From “khol dwar khol” to “rangiye diye jao” is a short but significant journey to the carnival of Santiniketan. For us, who have some association with the abode of peace set up by Tagore, cannot help but wait eagerly for the moon-lit night of the spring; for the fun-filled morning of a warm winter; for the colourful joyous ceremony of Vasantotsav.
This year when I chose not to venture into the Holi hues at Santiniketan, but to keep glued to Star Ananda — a Bengali news channel which telecast live of the morning’s proceedings at Ashram Matth to my drawing room — I felt just nostalgic. Nostalgia not only of the colours of Vasantotsav, but remembering those with whom I enjoyed the day for six successive years.
For a so-called uninitiated student of Visva-Bharati, I could have felt uneasy eight springs ago, but did not. The nature of Santiniketan is such that even an alien from the moon can mingle with the environment in no time. It gives the space for one’s self to grow and fit into the things that bind us together: amra jethay mori ghurey, se je jayna kobhu durey, moder moner majhey premer setar badha je tar surey (Wherever we go, it does not move away from us; its tune unites our hearts with love and affection). This is Santiniketan: where people come from places rarely heard of, it’s the melting pot of cultures. In 2000, I remember, our French teacher Samuel riding a cycle smeared in colour. The next year, he was joined with his French friend Thebo — white kurtas turned pink-red-green-yellow!
While we, students of Deomel, used to form small groups in front of Sri Sadan and Chaitya, “botu”s [Botu – boka (stupid) tourists] thronged Amrakunja and Kalobari. Some were clueless about the weird celebrations — of abir, no gulal — started by the grand old bearded man of lal-mati. Some of those who travelled night-long from Calcutta, Siliguri, Ranchi among many other places just to be there on that morning at Gourprangan — the place where the fest used to start before it moved to Ashram Matth this year — became impatient and began playing abir and gulal instantly. But we are not “others”!
For us, after the initial get-together in front of Sri Sadan — the Plus Two and undergrad girls’ hostel — some of us moved to Chhatrabas — the Patha Bhavan boys’ hostel — where ex-students stage an informal programme for the next one hour. The rendezvous with rong (colour) did not end there, but took us all the way to another end of the Ashram Matth — Kala Bhavan. There, the giant stage where usually would-be Husains and Tyeb Mehtas had their morning-afternoon-evening rounds of coffee culture, played Holi host to a whole gamut of fine arts students — present and former all in the same mood. I was never a student of either Patha Bhavan or Kala Bhavan, but I had good rapport with friends and teachers of the two most internationally known places of learning. Hence, no question of feeling outcast, but one of their very own!
I hardly know a Bengali who has never spent a single day of their life amid abir in Santiniketan. Those who are yet to get a taste what Santiniketan can offer on a day when the rest of India play gulal and grease, must visit the place once, but with the right frame in mind.
Friday 21 March 2008
Birthday Gift
What are the birthday gifts you got this year? Or the year past? Or since your childhood? We hardly remember all of them. I cannot recall every precise one too.
But some of the gifts — like a book or a pen or a memento — I can remember. In 2005, I got a surprise gift from one Devdan Mitra. It was March 3, my birthday-eve and one of my close friends was planning to celebrate it in our way — hitting Bhalo-Mondo, a mud-walled thatch-roofed restaurant at Santiniketan. Suddenly, about 3 in the afternoon, this Mitra — Mitra in Bengali stands for friend too — called me up on my Reliance cellphone. I met this 40-something only twice — once on January 3 and another on January 20 that year. So I was a bit taken aback. How on the earth he could know my birthday the next day? Why should he wish me greetings — like my other friends? Anyway I took the call. Came that surprise gift: a voice quite cool, yet serious. Stern. “You have been selected to work with my desk at The Telegraph.” Precise was the message. I stood stunned. I was taking a short nap at that time; I thought it must be daydream! But it was not.
Once I got a toy guitar from two angry young men — one was my elder sister’s Hindustani classical teacher and another my table pundit! This was in 1987. In 1992, a year after I was admitted to one of the prestigious institutions — Ramakrishna Mission Vidyalaya, Narendrapur — in Class V, I got Ramakrishna Kathamrita (the sayings of Ramakrishna) as my gift from my parents. Books and pens I used to get from my elder sister on most of the birthdays. In 2001, I managed to get a Parker from her too. She is quite nice with gifts and never ever missed a single birthday to send her greetings through a letter or over the phone or sending an SMS.
Well, this year another surprise was in store for me. The desk at where I am working since the call made by Devdan, is so energetic and youthful that a separate file is saved in our archive noting birthdays of each and every member of the team. We don’t miss the birthdays; we celebrate the days with a midnight cake party; followed by an evening one when the b’day boy/girl becomes kalpataru — a mythological creature who gives away whatever one wishes. Usually, the evening party is full of biryani or chowmein or momos or what not! I was also scared that this March, I’ll end up with my salary before the 10th day of the month. However, I was lucky. Nobody, yes none of them, wished me “Happy Birthday” that day giving me the best surprise gift I ever got! And that too from people with whom I spend at least nine hours everyday! Probably we are becoming too busy, with ourselves.
But some of the gifts — like a book or a pen or a memento — I can remember. In 2005, I got a surprise gift from one Devdan Mitra. It was March 3, my birthday-eve and one of my close friends was planning to celebrate it in our way — hitting Bhalo-Mondo, a mud-walled thatch-roofed restaurant at Santiniketan. Suddenly, about 3 in the afternoon, this Mitra — Mitra in Bengali stands for friend too — called me up on my Reliance cellphone. I met this 40-something only twice — once on January 3 and another on January 20 that year. So I was a bit taken aback. How on the earth he could know my birthday the next day? Why should he wish me greetings — like my other friends? Anyway I took the call. Came that surprise gift: a voice quite cool, yet serious. Stern. “You have been selected to work with my desk at The Telegraph.” Precise was the message. I stood stunned. I was taking a short nap at that time; I thought it must be daydream! But it was not.
Once I got a toy guitar from two angry young men — one was my elder sister’s Hindustani classical teacher and another my table pundit! This was in 1987. In 1992, a year after I was admitted to one of the prestigious institutions — Ramakrishna Mission Vidyalaya, Narendrapur — in Class V, I got Ramakrishna Kathamrita (the sayings of Ramakrishna) as my gift from my parents. Books and pens I used to get from my elder sister on most of the birthdays. In 2001, I managed to get a Parker from her too. She is quite nice with gifts and never ever missed a single birthday to send her greetings through a letter or over the phone or sending an SMS.
Well, this year another surprise was in store for me. The desk at where I am working since the call made by Devdan, is so energetic and youthful that a separate file is saved in our archive noting birthdays of each and every member of the team. We don’t miss the birthdays; we celebrate the days with a midnight cake party; followed by an evening one when the b’day boy/girl becomes kalpataru — a mythological creature who gives away whatever one wishes. Usually, the evening party is full of biryani or chowmein or momos or what not! I was also scared that this March, I’ll end up with my salary before the 10th day of the month. However, I was lucky. Nobody, yes none of them, wished me “Happy Birthday” that day giving me the best surprise gift I ever got! And that too from people with whom I spend at least nine hours everyday! Probably we are becoming too busy, with ourselves.
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