Joie de vivre
বেঁচে থাকার আনন্দ
I can make no claim to have known how matters stood or what happened during my birth. But I knew it was hard days of summer. The sun was scorching all over and my mother was unwell. Despite all the calamities both in the outer world and in my resting place, at mother’s womb, I finally managed to see the light of this world.
I was told that I was born on a Sunday in summer. As per Bengali Calendar, It was the 25th day of Baisakh in the sub-divisional town, Raghunathganj in Jangipur sub-division. It is a famous day so far Bengal and Bengali people are concerned. It’s a very eventful day. The Schools and Colleges, clubs, offices are all out with this annual ritual to prove their cultural background or heritage. Given the political scenario of Bengal today and the continuous backwardness of this state, it would be hard to make one believe that Bengali People are cultured with the intellectual bend of mind, so on and so forth. And for this reason, we have to take the refuge of a poet who was born 157 years ago and was in fact, the Indian Renaissance man and was prolific in his creation. Did he succeed in educating Bengali people? The answer is certainly a big No. Barring a few, the average Bengali people are dwarf in all respects. There is nothing to be proud of except the past. So, Bengali is a community who live in past and never ventured to come out in the outer world.
Sometimes, I pity myself that although I may share the birthday of Tagore, the cult figure and so did hundreds and thousands of people. I do not think any of them has become famous for being born on 25th Baisakh. Actually, I knoweth, not a single person except me and Rabindranath who was born on that day. However, I do not find any advantage in taking birth on such a famous day. Neither I can write nor can I sing, the genius of Tagore was never bestowed on me to its furthest fraction.
I was destined to enter into service life at a very early age of 20 only, though I was not mentally prepared for that. I remember the day very fondly when I first entered the premises of State Bank of India not as a customer but as an employee. It was long ago. But the day is very clear in my vision. I was nervous and hesitant to enter into the Chamber of the Branch Manager to whom I had to report with my appointment letter. At that time, State Bank of India was very glamorous and people envy those who worked in that institution.
My first day in the Bank went peacefully. My initial nervousness did gradually meltdown. My first branch was a small one, there was not much work and at that time Bank was not required to do varieties of work. It was simple deposits accounts and a little bit of advance and general banking. So life was not that hard like today’s’ banker. But entering into the service life so early made me rebellious within a few weeks. I started missing my friends who were used to gossip on the stairs of Hazarduary discussing various topics every evening. At that time we were very much inclined to Che Guevara, Communism, Syed Muztuba Ali and ‘Charulata”, all were the core issues of our discussions and of course, the beautiful girls of Lalbagh too who had no parallel at least in beauty and fairness all over the world. I was terribly upset with my new confinement at a terrible place. It was Nimitita. I can now reclaim that place as a lovely place with the Padma in front, lots of Hilsa and the fresh fishes from the river were sheer delights to relish. The famous Zaminder Chowdhury of Nimitita Rajbari was a personal friend of my father and was very affectionate to me. You might remember Ray’s ‘Jalshaghar’. It was shot in their palace though it is now totally dilapidated. The BSF personnel and its Commander were very friendly with us and whenever they came to Bank, they came with various gifts specially with a bottle of Rum for us. And it was a must to join them in their Barakhana every month. Here, in Nimtita, I met my first Yoga guru, Late Anil Sanyal, the Head Master of Nimtita High School and he was a direct disciple of famous Yogi Baradacharan Lahiri. On the later part, I did enjoy a lot of that place, Nimtita. It was delightful really.
But at the early stage, it was altogether boring for me to spend 24 hours a day there. I had plenty of time. I used to wake up early in the morning. I rose before the sun could rise. And my mind started working instantly on what next, what next? I got out of my home. There was hardly any person on the streets and I did start my walk rather a long march. I walked from one street to another. I walked in different directions. But there was hardly any destination for me, nowhere to reach.
Now, I understand how painful, it is for a man who has started his journey long ago, could not find any destination throughout his life. Do we really have any destination? Or am I not inclined to reach to any particular station? Possibly, the second one is right. I never intended and still intend to reach anywhere where I can end my journey and possibly rest in peace. But rest in peace is for the dead men when they will have no need to walk further and to be very honest, nobody wants to rest in peace as also me.
So, চরৈবতি, চরৈবতি।If you have not the physical ability to walk, do walk in fantasy. It is a fantasy world you can cope it with fantasy even from your bed. This is my small realisation.
Did I envy those people who appear to be fully composed with their day to day mundane activities and not complaining about anything? They possibly are resting in peace. Did they really exist? I doubt after seeing all those people who are well placed and doing all the worldly activities with the doors and windows of their minds totally shut down. But I cannot blame them. They are organized in that way. And perhaps this is the way; most of us usually are accustomed to surviving.
