I was introduced to Rabindra Sangeet by Sohini. All my workshops with her are memorable because their memories vividly float on the canvas of Rabindra Sangeet looped by her during our sessions. It was overwhelming to be in Kolkata, seated in a bare, sparsely furnished room, dancing and engaging in discussions on personal power and somatic healing while it got dark, foggy and pleasantly cold at 5 in the evening, Rabindra Sangeet floating around all day, accompanying us into twilight! It was all so soulful. Well it had to be, it was Bangla. I guess the unsubstantiated belief that I must have been Bangla in some century, some life, living in Kolkata stems from my otherwise inexplicably intense love (and longing) for all things Bengali.
I am discovering new melodies each day. For a music lover to discover a new genre of music is like embarking on a melodious voyage of discovering harmony newly, sometimes in an unknown and yet soothing language that feels "one's own" and spending time looped in its beauty in myriad moments of deeply private joy that I, through this blog, painfully and inadequately undertake to share! I am looped and I fail to convey how...
Sukher Lagi Chahe Prem, Prem Mele Na (used in the end credits of Chokher Bali):
I do not remember him as someone with a shock of black hair. By the time I was born he was already 44. By the time I started recognizing him, he was older. The moments from which I have a conscious memory of him, he was maybe 54! I remember him as old, since I remember! At 71, I still know him as old but still not old enough...
His proficiency in the "sciences" and mathematics intimidated us children... because at least one of us, somebody, anybody was expected (implicitly and eagerly) to match up and nobody could.
I owe to him my understanding and gradual liking of those horrid Science I and II sums of speed, velocity, current electricity, heat and the chemical equations that were a part of the curriculum of my Xth year at school. Where I thought I was going to miserably fail and according to Baba spend my life selling उत्बत्त्या or अगरबत्ती door to door for the rest of my life, his visit one evening restored my faith that I was meant for other things (not using the word "better things" because I do not believe selling incense sticks is menial)! It must have taken a few minutes in his manner of explaining, for me to solve that which I had shed tears over and trembled at the mention of, for almost a year! After that evening I realized science sums fell into the category of things whose ass could be kicked out of this orbit!
He had a tiger cub as a pet in his youth and he sneaked to the Everest Base Camp in his mid 60s without the knowledge of family and friends! He clearly did not want words of caution and a reminding that he is a diabetic His record (which I need to double check because it might be more) is roughly 24 मोदक, the maharashtrian dumpling delicacy stuffed with jaggery and coconut which I must stress he started eating, "after" a "complete" dinner.
Over this weekend, we walked to Atya's house together. Clad in a smart striped Tshirt, well fitted pants, floaters and with his sparse silver hair neatly combed, he asked me if I can manage a kilometer's walk! I did not bother myself with a repartee because I lack the पुणेरी sarcasm just as I lack proficiency in science and math and just as he has both these proficiencies by the bountiful!!
He descended the flight of steps from his house cautiously. I noticed few things near the neighbor's wall which I swiftly pointed out, which he refrained from looking at while descending. He was cautious! He stopped a few feet away from a reversing car preferring to wait while it reversed and sped off while I extended my hand, my palm facing the car as if to stop it and skirted across without waiting. I saw numerous sights on the road I wanted to know about, point them out to him, show him a particular signboard or a structure (had to be the charming पुणेरी वाड़ा). Each time I had it on the tip of my tongue to say, "see this, look there, see that" I realized he could not turn as swiftly while walking in order to look around as he used to. It was getting tough to maintain balance and orientation. I deliberately slowed down lagging behind at times to watch him walk ahead. At times I deliberately walked ahead and turned around to see him walk towards me.
He is my dad's eldest brother, my uncle and the only family member who reads my blogs!
He also thinks they are utter utter rubbish! Yet he never denies my request for a read and graciously comments too...
It is one thing to know someone as "young" and watch them age. It is something else altogether to get to know someone as "old", see them only growing older by the day and yet never see them get old enough...ever!
He is comfortably nestled himself in the "old people who will just not be old enough" category... Rather I realized there can be a category like that because of him.
