En el camino de la vida, la fe es el alimento. Los actos virtuosos, son el refugio. La sabiduría, es la luz del día. Y la atención plena, es la protección por la noche. Buddha.
On life's journey faith is nourishment, virtuous deeds are a shelter, wisdom is the light by day and right mindfulness is the protection by night. Buddha.
The only way we can change a situation is to completely master our own reaction to it. Self Control gives us power. La única manera que podemos cambiar una situación completamente, es dominar nuestra propia reacción a ella. Control de uno mismo nos da el poder.
La esencia del Camino es el desapego. Y el objetivo de quienes practican es liberarse de las apariencias. The essence of the Way is detachment. And the goal of those who practice is freedom from appearances
La gente siempre piensa que lo más doloroso de la vida es perder lo que valoras. La verdad es que lo más doloroso es perderse en el proceso de valorar demasiado a alguien y olvidar que tú también eres especial.
People always think that the most painful thing in life is losing the one you value. The truth is, the most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of valuing someone too much and forgetting that you are special too.
Pathamanibbanapatisamyutta Sutta – Primer discurso conectado con el Nibbana Introducción: El Buda describe el Nibbana.
He aquí lo que yo he oído decir. Cierta vez el bhagavant se encontraba en la ciudad de Savatthi, en el Bosque del Prín cipe Jeta, en el parque de Anathapindika. En aquella ocasión el bhagavant instruyó, incitó, entusiasmó, llenó de gozo a losbhikkhus con una conversación sobre la doctrina relativa al nirvana. Y aquellos bhikkhus oían la doctrina, haciendo de ella el objeto de su atención, captándola en su mente en toda su integridad, concentrados, escuchando cuidadosamente.
El bhagavant, comprendiendo el sentido, dijo en aquella ocasión este udana:
Existe, oh bhikkhus, aquel dominio en que no se dan ni la tierra ni las aguas ni el fuego ni el aire ni el dominio de la infinitud del espacio, ni el dominio de la infinitud de la conciencia, ni el dominio de la nada, ni el dominio del cono cimiento y del no-conocimiento, ni este mundo ni el otro ni el sol ni la luna. Yo os digo, oh bhikkhus, que ahí no se entra, que de ahí no se sale, que ahí no se permanece, que de ahí no se decae y que de ahí no se renace. Carece de fundamento, carece de actividad, no puede ser objeto del pensamiento. Es el fin del sufrimiento.
Written by Parul |Updated: February 23, 2019 12:50:53 am
Life in Pictures
Painter Gurdeep Dhiman on winning the amateur photographer of the year award at the seventh National Photography Awards.
Gurdeep Dhiman
It is black and white that remains painter and photographer Gurdeep Dhiman’s favourite medium to express the emotions of his subjects. But it’s the vibrant colours of Holi of Barsana and Nandgaon in Uttar Pradesh that Chandigarh-based Dhiman has captured as a project for over three years, one that has won him the Amateur Photographer of the Year Award at the seventh National Photography Awards. A post graduate in drawing and painting from the Department of Fine Arts, Kurukshetra University, Dhiman uses social themes, everyday life, elements of vaastu in his work. In 2007, Dhiman got an opportunity to see the works of Chandigarh-based photographers Diwan Manna and Vijay Ozo, inspiring him to pursue photography, learning its techniques, intricacies and studying and viewing the works of photographers from across the world. “The creative work of photographers like Henri Cartier, Jimmy Nelson, Raghu Rai, and Steve McCurry has impacted my vision of creativity. A quote by Sebastiao Salgado, on how expressing emotions in a composition is paramount, had a profound effect on my vision regarding photography and this award is a validation of my work and passion,” says Dhiman. The techniques of painting — contrast, composition, rhythm, colours, control of lines, adds Dhiman, give his pictures a distinct identity and meaning.
Gurdeep Dhiman’s work.
Dhiman says all of his photography projects are long and many times ongoing. He believes time is needed for the photographer and people in front of the camera to understand and connect with each other and also know the place and what is happening there. “When you spend more time on a project, you learn to know your subjects. There comes a time when it is not you who is taking the pictures. Something special happens between the photographer and the people he is photographing. He realises that they are giving the pictures to him,” says Dhiman.
For the last three years, Dhiman has travelled every year on Holi to Barsana and Nand Gaon, said to be the village of Krishna and Radha. Dhiman says that in the first year he just kept looking for the bylanes from which the groups would emerge with buckets of water and colours. There were age-old rituals, groups from both places getting him to celebrate the festival with songs, dances and colours, and the typical clothing among others, “You have to navigate the slush, the crowd, to capture the movements, revelry and the magical experience and there’s something new every time I go,” says Dhiman.
Gurdeep Dhiman’s work.
The constant endeavour and effort, says the artist, is to look at places, people, objects with new eyes and find a new grammar to express feelings. As part of a series on Leh and Ladakh, Dhiman, apart from the majestic landscape, is capturing the natives here, whose children have left for greener pastures. Their loneliness, life in the harsh environment, stories of love and loss, are what he focuses on, with black and white dominating the palette.
Dhiman’s series on Delhi’s iconic Chandni Chowk, which he had exhibited recently and received great appreciation for, looks at life in the bazaar from dawn to dusk. The shutters with different posters, shopkeepers, customers, old traditions and customs, the textures the sunlight creates, the hustle and bustle is what Dhiman views with his camera. “Photography is like a vast ocean in which I don’t only want to swim on the surface. I intend to measure the depth of the ocean and this can be possible if one is able to assimilate the magnanimity with creative thinking and impartiality. The effort is to capture a moment with vision, replete with expression and emotions, as experienced and felt while viewing the moment,” says Dhiman, who recently returned from the Kumbh Mela, where he photographed akharas and the people who live there. Right now, the old shops of Punjab, the doors, shutters, textures are what Dhiman has his eyes set on.
Written by Parul |Updated: February 23, 2019 12:30:20 am
Stories of the Soil
Artists Jiten Thukral and Sumir Tagra come closer home, to Punjab, with their exhibition to express the complex economic, social, political and personal crises faced by the farmers.
Thukral (right) and Tagra at the exhibition. (Express photo: Jaipal Singh)
Why are the farmers protesting? Are our policies to be blamed for the agrarian crisis faced by farmers in India today? What is the criteria of satisfying hunger? What will happen when we have no soil to sow? Are we all illustrated differently? Do we live in the surreal? Can an artwork change your life? These are some of the 250 rapid-fire questions that artists Jiten Thukral and Sumir Tagra posed to the audience as a prelude to the opening of their exhibition ‘Farmer is a Wrestler’ in Chandigarh, at the Punjab Lalit Kala Akademi.
For both Thukral and Tagra, whose show opened this week, it is a sort of a homecoming. Thukral was a former student at the Government College of Art, Chandigarh. It is here, outside the principal’s office that he met Tagra, who was seeking admission in the same college. Tagra eventually joined College of Art, Delhi, which later Thukral joined for his Masters in Fine Arts. “There are mysterious ways in which life works and gets people together. We met in the late ’90s, kept in touch, informally shared many artistic ideas and our work over the internet, communicated and connected and eventually began working together in 2001, and the rest as they say is history. We work collaboratively with a range of media, be it painting, sculpture, video, design, interactive games, each material resonating our concerns, issues of today, the times we live in and the change we are experiencing,” shares Thukral. Their work, adds Tagra, attempts to be an immersive experience, with new formats of engagement constantly created to widen the scope of art and making it real and approachable for common people to feel, touch, interact with, and most importantly, question and think.
One of their works.
Consumer culture, migration, memories, AIDS, Indian mythology, education, urban design and architecture — the grammar, philosophy, approach and treatment of their practice is constantly shifting and evolving with research and observation resulting in varied expressions. The language is diverse, playful, abstract, using wit, humour, colour, to comment and draw attention to concerns, all a process of evolving, and as Tagra describes, the core of the practice is being conscious and humble. “As artists, we cannot work in isolation. Our work has to reflect social change and as part of our artistic journey, negotiate ideas daily to trigger questions and also ask ourselves as to what force we are with,” says Tagra.
‘Farmer is a Wrestler’ has emerged from a project titled, ‘Escape for A Dreamland’, which was based on the issue of people leaving their homes to move abroad — a desire to ‘escape’ via migration and changing middle-class aspirations. The sprawling old houses of Punjab, vacant and desolate, became their contexts, as the artists wanted to look at migration from a sociopolitical point of view. A research done at Punjab Agricultural University said that water will get over in Punjab in a few years. Their association with the Akal Academy Baru Sahib and farmer suicides started research work for a project that could draw attention to the urgency of the agrarian crisis faced by farmers in India today. The artists travelled to Sangrur and many villages in Punjab to meet the families of farmers who had committed suicide, to photograph them, with a researcher ready with a list of questions and video equipment. “The first home we went to, the farmer’s wife came and sat with the photograph of her dead husband in her lap. We could not speak a word, take a single picture or do anything. We visited many homes across Punjab and Haryana, where so many farmers had killed themselves because of debts, with money-lenders adding another dimension to the tragedy. We became part of farmer protests to come closer to their lives, and the biggest protest by as many as one lakh farmers in Delhi was largely ignored by the media. It reported only about the number of police personnel present there. We spoke to scientists about soil, seeds, climate change and also studied the divisions of land, people selling their land to go abroad and knew that this was an issue that concerned all and there was an urgency to create awareness through art and also for people to understand this crisis. We order food online, eat in our air-conditioned rooms, oblivious of what is happening outside and how the lives and livelihood of farmers are in danger,” explains Tagra.
Connecting the two projects with an akhara, the title of the exhibition draws parallels with kushti — a form of traditional Indian wrestling that is popular among rural communities. Thukral’s father maintains an akhara in Jalandhar and the two artists use the metaphor of the game which is about physical and mental struggle and relate it to the farmer’s fight and struggle for survival. “Soil, land, labour and muscle, these are some of the many symbols here. And the irony is that the top prize in a kushti match is a tractor,” reflects Thukral.
Drawings on Swaminathan Commission Report — Serving Farmers and Saving Farming, form a large panel in the exhibition hall, with the copies of the report for people to read. There’s also a documentary titled Kisan Mukti March, which plays opposite this panel. Then there’s an oil on canvas titled Distress Mathematics and an acrylic on canvas titled Distress Equation — both pose many questions on the economics of farming. Other works include an installation titled Bubble Under The Table, using fibre glass, nylon sheet and books, a short fictional film set in the akhara, a sculpture Swantantur Singh, which depicts the trying conditions farmers have to work under. The exhibition has a multitude of layers and meanings. “Our work has a lot to do with colour, but for this exhibition we dropped colour from some paintings, for we wanted people to fill in the colour this time in their mind. In the bold strokes, you will see hope, strength, determination and decisions. The artistic process is about being more aware, raise an issue and questions. Being fearless yet fragile, we are aware of the failures and force,” sums up Tagra.
The exhibition is on till March 5, at Punjab Kala Bhawan, Sector 16, Chandigarh
Written by Anjali Jha |New Delhi |Updated: February 22, 2019 12:52:30 pm
Zia Nath: The master of whirling on the art of sacred dance and spirituality
In her performances, you would see a lot of whirling done with utmost grace and subtlety. She addresses whirling as an active movement meditation and says that it’s not possible to whirl without the meditative element.
Zia Nath studied Gurdjieff sacred dances for several years and was introduced to Sufi whirling.
Back in 1993, when Zia Nath saw a performance of Sufi and Gurdjieff sacred dance in Pune at the Osho International Meditation Resort (OIMR) she was spellbound. Over the years, she mastered the art, and today, finds grace not just in dance forms, but also in every aspect of life – a habit she developed after practising sacred dance for several years.
“I started my journey in Sacred Dances as an exploration and practice of my spiritual path. I studied Gurdjieff Sacred Dances intensively for several years and was introduced to Sufi Whirling. After practising for about eight years, I started teaching the work in Mumbai and at OIMR, Pune. Soon I got inquiries to give performances, and also felt the need to learn different forms of sacred dances so I studied Odissi too, which is a temple dance”, Nath, who performs on live or recorded poetry, told indianexpress.com.
Zia Nath also felt the urge to learn different forms of sacred dances, so she studied Odissi.
Nath’s performances, which include a lot of whirling, stand out for their grace. After years of practice, she can whirl for nearly 15 minutes at a stretch – an act that leaves her audience spellbound. She describes whirling as an active movement meditation, saying it’s not possible to whirl without the meditative element. “As we get into the practice of whirling, the stable turning motion of the body starts to create an organised force around itself. All organised forces of motion have a centre – like that of a tornado or a cyclone where the centre is always still. This stillness sustains the motion and the momentum which keeps the whirling going. As our body whirls on the outside, a still centre starts to form on the inside. This polarity of forces creates a new dimension – it brings us into meditation”, she said.
Nath also started a sacred whirling community along with Pinky Daga, CEO of Thriive Art & Soul to create a community of whirlers that meet regularly to share this beautiful spiritual practice of dance. They gather to share poetry, music, whirling, meditation and dance.
It’s not possible to whirl without the meditative element, says Zia Nath.
Nath balances many acts – being a single parent of a teenager and also a Craniosacral Therapist and Nutritionist. But being a sacred dancer comes naturally to her. ” George Gurdjieff said, ‘from stillness, the dance arises’. Sacred dances can be a bridge to our higher consciousness. As the body frees up in movement, the energy within also starts to flow and circulate freely – this opens deeper dimensions of awareness within. Grace comes through. Surrender happens. Devotion opens the heart. This is sacred movement or sacred dance. You see this quality among people who have integrated meditation into their daily life, as opposed to sitting in meditation for one hour”, she says.
An essential factor to curate this form of dance requires a disciplined life and a deep understanding of the body-mind dynamics. Understanding the design of the body – the relationship between its form and function facilitates good mobility and health. But there is a deeper inquiry that we are involved with – what moves us, what breathes us, what sustains us, she says.
“As a dancer, I understand the dynamics of the body as well as its relation to emotions and mentality. There are two ways of addressing the body – from the outer with movement, form and function or from the inner – through energy work, psychology, emotionally, meditation, etc. Either way, we reach wholeness, the meeting of inner and outer. Being sincere and dedicated to practice in this work is imperative. It helps to keep the body healthy, and maintain daily fitness”, she said.
Written by Ektaa Malik |Updated: February 22, 2019 10:48:55 am
Veteran Australian photographer John Gollings on capturing architecture marvels, the frailty of modern design and his love for India
The exhibit is a sort of a time capsule of architecture, beginning at least 20,000 years ago with the rock paintings of Nawarla Gabarnmang in Northern Territory, Australia, to the more modern Burj Khalifa, Dubai.
Hanuman Temple, Hampi, India (2006); John Gollilngs
Angkor Vat, Cambodia; Pushkarni Kund, India; Kabaw Berber Granary, Libya; Holocaust Tower, Germany; Sydney Opera House, Australia — this may look like the beginning of a well-thought out travel bucket list. For veteran Australian photographer, John Gollings, these are memories of a lifetime — images captured in a career spanning more than five decades. These works and more constitute ‘The History of the Built World’, a travelling exhibition from Monash Gallery of Art, which is currently being showcased at India Habitat Centre’s biennial photo festival, Habitat Photosphere.
The exhibit is a sort of a time capsule of architecture, beginning at least 20,000 years ago with the rock paintings of Nawarla Gabarnmang in Northern Territory, Australia, to the more modern Burj Khalifa, Dubai. He was photographing some cathedral rock art, when he found a lingam in the ceremonial ground. “It confirmed my notion that the Australian Aboriginal is the Dravidian Indian, who came to Australia 60,000 years ago. It’s the first confirmation, as there wouldn’t have been a linga without some influence of Hinduism. That’s been carbon dated at 30,000 years. It’s the only instance of the Aboriginals building things by taking out columns and manipulating the structure, obviously using their Indian stone making skills,” says Gollings, as he elaborates on the rock art photos on display and his initial association with India. “I visited in 1980 to photograph Hampi, and I have come back every year. I fell in love with the place. Though curiously, ever since it’s become a world heritage sight, it’s been more and more difficult to work there. There are fences in place, and it shuts at five,” says Gollings.
India and Hampi feature prominently in the exhibition which has 67 photos. His recent project is about photographing all the step wells of India. So far, he has documented 125 of them. “My effort has always been to make a building stand out. I wish to take the single most iconic picture of the said monument. Early on, when you photographed Indian temples, on black and white film, the colours of the stone and the blue sky would all be of the same density. You got this muddy look, so I started photographing at night, to make the colours stand out. I used my work in India to photograph modern architecture,” he says.
Gollings is a self-taught photographer, who fell in love with photography when he was only nine. He progressed to the dark room at 11. Post learning the ropes of the artform, he straddled the world of glamour and tried his hand on fashion and advertising photography before embarking on this anthropological study and documentation of architecture. “I studied architecture at Melbourne University. Advertising was a chance thing. I was asked to assist Norman Parkinson’s assistant, the famous London photographer. I picked up some very big accounts, but as my contemporaries from architectural school were making buildings, I became their go-to photographer,” says Gollings. By the mid-70s, he was doing equal amounts of fashion and architectural photography. “I realised that no one wants a 12-month-old fashion photo, as it’s out of date, but they want pictures of buildings. And that’s when an epiphany occurred. My hobby of photographing dead cities had a link to my whole career, which was to photograph everything that had ever been built in the world,” says Gollings.
Having seen the world grow and expand from rock cut caves to plate-glass facades, Gollings is full of caution, especially where the new glitzy, bold buildings are concerned. “We create one structure, and then we get bored of it. So we decorate. From the Roman style, we got to Baroque, then we moved to Modernism, where we had white boxes. And now we are looking at curvaceous architecture, which is only possible with computers. I think it’s all a bit silly. One is a stylistic development, and the other is a mechanical one. And at the same time, the buildings are more fragile. A modern office building is designed to last 25 years, compared to the great monuments of India, which have been here for centuries. They are stone buildings. Even concrete corrodes and collapses. There won’t be anything left of modern civilisation. It’s a fascinating conundrum,” adds Gollings.
The sombre tone and words of caution continue as he stresses on the photos of the Kabaw Berber Granary, Libya, and Angkor Wat. The majestic temple complex (Angkor Wat) is now a pale shadow of what it once was. “While photographing these ‘dead cities’ — I have been told to not call them that — or ‘lost civilisations’, I have realised that one way or the other, we are all heading there. Various big civilisations were run aground because of climate/political/catastrophic reasons. Climate change is a reality. It’s the one solitary lesson from history that people like Donald Trump are not ready to take. Nothing lasts forever, except the remnants of architecture built from stone. All this modern stuff, it’s going to fall,” concludes Gollings.
Written by Arnab Mitra |Updated: February 21, 2019 11:43:00 am
International Mother Language Day: Remembering Dhirendranath Dutta and others who died for Bengali language
On February 25, 1948, Dhirendranath Dutta had urged the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan (CAP) to recognise Bengali as one of the official languages. Dutta till his last breath fought for the independence of his country and was tortured to death in the Mainamati Cantonment in 1971.
March 21, 1948. ‘Quaid-I-Azam’ Muhammad Ali Jinnah declares that Urdu will be the only official language of Pakistan besides English. From Dhaka’s Race Course Maidan, he says, “Let me make it very clear to you, it is no doubt that the state language of Pakistan is going to be Urdu and no other language. Anyone who tries to mislead you is really the enemy of Pakistan.”
Jinnah’s declaration hurt the sentiments of Bengali dominated East Pakistan. On February 25, 1948, Dhirendranath Dutta had urged the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan (CAP) to recognise Bengali as one of the official languages. Dutta till his last breath fought for the independence of his country and was tortured to death in the Mainamati Cantonment in 1971.
Born on November 2, 1886, Dutta did his elementary education in Bangladesh, and secured higher degrees from the Calcutta Ripon College in 1908 and 1910. His father Jagabandhu Dutta was a serestedar in the Munsif Court. As a student, Dutta was very much motivated into the nationalist movement and took an active part for the annulment of the Partition of Bengal.
Completing his education, he took the job of teacher at Bangura Umalochan High English School, Muradnagar as an Assistant Headmaster. During this time, he got motivated by Gandhi, and established a social welfare organisation, ‘the Mukti Sangha’. During the 1943 famine, he was actively engaged in the relief mission.
In 1946, Dutta was elected a member of the Bengal Legislative Council on a Congress ticket. After Independence, Dhirendranath participated in Pakistan politics as a non-communal politician. In June 1954, Dutta moved an adjournment motion against the promulgation of Governor’s rule in East Pakistan. He was the Health and Social Welfare Minister in the cabinet led by Ataur Rahman Khan from September 19, 1956 to October 7, 1958.
During the 1965 Indo-Pak war, the Pakistan government put Dutta under house arrest, but his struggle for independent Bengali continued. Just a few months before, the country got its independence, Dutta and his son Dilipkumar Dutta was tortured to death in the Mainamati Cantonment in 1971. In remembrance of the martyr, the Bangladesh government named the road in front of his house after him.
Martyrs of Bengali language movement on February 21, 1952
International Mother Language Day: Remembering the martyrs
Abul Barkat (1927-1952)
Abul Barkat was born on June 13, 1927, at Babla village of Murshidabad district to father Shamsuzzoha and mother Hasina Bibi. Barkat, a student of Bahrampur Krishnanath College completed his schooling in India, before he came to Dhaka after partition in 1948. He obtained BA (Hons) in Political Science from Dhaka University in 1951 and got admitted into MA final year.
In the morning of February 21, 1952, Barkat was in the procession that students took out from Dhaka Medical College hostel violating Section 144 that was clamped to contain student agitation. The police suddenly fired on the gathering. Barkat was hit and taken to Dhaka Medical College Hospital where he died later that day. He was buried in Azimpur graveyard. The Bangladesh government awarded him with Ekushey Padak (posthumously) in 2000 AD.
Rafiq Uddin Ahmed (1926-1952)
Rafiq Uddin Ahmed was born on October 30, 1926, at Paril village, Manikganj district. After completing his matriculation from Baira School in 1949, he discontinued his studies to work in his father’s commercial printing business in Dhaka. Rafiq Uddin joined the February 21 demonstration and was shot on the premises of Dhaka Medical College Hostel. He was laid to rest in Azimpur graveyard under an army guard. Rafiq Uddin was awarded Ekushey Padak posthumously in February 2000 for his supreme sacrifice for the Bengali language.
Abdus Salam (1925-1952)
Born on November 27, 1925, in the village Laxmanpur in Feni district to Munshi Abdul Fazel Miah and mother Daulater Nesa, Salam had to discontinue education after matriculation due to financial problem. He did his schooling from Matubhuiyan Kalimullah Minor School and Daganbhuiyan Kamal Ataturk High School. He moved to Kolkata to work in Kolkata port, but after Independence came back to Dhaka and started working as a record keeper in the department of industries.
On February 21, 1952, when police fired on the protesting students, Salam was badly injured and taken to Dhaka Medical College for treatment. He succumbed to the bullet wounds on April 7, 1952. He was laid to rest in Azimpur graveyard.
The Bangladesh government awarded him with ‘Ekushey Padak’ in February 2000. Soon after this recognition, Rasa initiated an effort to make a portrait of Abdus Salam with a group of artists and sculptors Abdul Mannan, Alokesh Ghosh, Ahamed Shamsuddoha, Shajahan Ahamed Bikash, Sheikh Afzal and sculptor Rajeeb Siddiqee. He named this initiative as ‘’Astitver Shekade Alo’.
In 2000, Mohammad Shahadat Hossain, editor and staff reporter, the weekly Alokita Feni and Nayadiganta, founded ‘Bhasha-Shahid Abdus Salam Smriti Parishad’ in remembrance of Abdus Salam. The Bangladesh government founded ‘Language Martyr Abdus Salam Library and Memorial Museum’ in 2008, adjacent to the primary school of Salam Nagar. In memoir of Salam, the local people of Laxmanpur village named it as ‘Salam Nagar’.
Abdul Jabbar (1919-52)
Abdul Jabbar was born in 1919 in Panchua village of Mymensingh district. Due to financial problem, after completing his elementary education he joined in his father’s agricultural work. To make his fortune, at the age of 15, he moved to Burma with the help of an Englishman. On the eventful day of 1952, Jabbar came to Dhaka for the medical treatment of his mother-in-law, a cancer patient. After getting his mother-in-law admitted to Dhaka Medical College Hospital, Jabbar joined the assembly at Dhaka Medical College Hostel. As police started heavy firing, Jabbar was badly injured and admitted to Medical College Hospital where he breathed his last. In recognition of his sacrifice, the Bangladesh government awarded Abdul Jabbar with Ekushey Padak in 2000 AD.
Shafiur Rahman (1918- 1952)
Rahman was born in Konnagar, Hooghly on January 24, 1918. After completing his education in Kolkata, he moved to Dhaka after Independence and got a job at accounts section of the Dhaka High Court. On February 22, 1952, a day after the massacre at Dhaka, Rahman was killed in police firing at Nawabpur Road on his way to work. He breathed his last at Dhaka Medical College and was laid to rest at Azimpur graveyard along with other martyrs. Two days after the incident, his father Hakim Mahbubur Rahman inaugurated the first Shaheed Minar with the protesting students of Dhaka University.
Excerpts from Dhirendranath Dutta’s speech in Parliament on February 25, 1948
Sir, in moving this– the motion that stands in my name– I can assure the House that I do so not in a spirit of narrow Provincialism, but, Sir, in the spirit that this motion receives the fullest consideration at the hands of the members. I know, Sir, that Bangla is a provincial language, but so far our state is concerned, it is the language of the majority of the People of the state.
So although it is a provincial language, as it is a language of the majority of the people of the state and it stands on a different footing, therefore. Out of six crores and ninety lakhs of people inhabiting this State, 4 crores and 40 lakhs of people speak the Bangla language. So, Sir, what should be the State language of the State? The State language of the state should be the language which is used by the majority of the people of the State, and for that, Sir, I consider that Bangla language is a lingua franca of our State.
It may be contended with a certain amount of force that even in our sister dominion the provincial language has not got the status of a lingua franca because in her sister dominion of India the proceedings of the Constituent Assembly is conducted in Hindustani, Hindi or Urdu or English.
It is not conducted in the Bangla language but so far as the Bangla is concerned out of 30 crores of people inhabiting that sister dominion two and a half crores speak the Bangla language. Hindustani, Hindi or Urdu has been given an honoured place in the sister dominion because the majority of the people of the Indian Dominion speak that language. So we are to consider that in our state it is found that the majority of the People of the state do speak the Bangla language than Bangla should have an honoured place even in the Central Government.
I know, Sir, I voice the sentiments of the vast millions of our State. In the meantime I want to let the House know the feelings of the vastest millions of our State. Even, Sir, in the Eastern Pakistan where the People numbering four crores and forty lakhs speak the Bangla language the common man even if he goes to a Post Office and wants to have a money order form finds that the money order is printed in Urdu language and is not printed in Bangla language or it is printed in English.
A poor cultivator, who has got his son, Sir, as a student in the Dhaka University and who wants to send money to him, goes to a village Post Office and he asked for a money order form, finds that the money order form is printed in Urdu language. He can not send the money order but shall have to rush to a distant town and have this money order form translated for him and then the money order, Sir, that is necessary for his boy can be sent.
The poor cultivator, Sir, sells a certain plot of land and goes to the Stamp vendor and pays him money but cannot say whether he has received the value of the money is Stamps. The value of the Stamp, Sir, is written not in Bangla but is written in Urdu and English. But he cannot say, Sir, whether he has got the real value of the Stamp.
These are the difficulties experienced by the Common man of our State. The language of the state should be such which can be understood by all. The common man numbering four crores and forty million feels that the proceedings of this Assembly which is their mother of parliaments is being conducted in an alien language.
I am aware that English has got an honoured place because of its International Character. But, Sir, if English can have an honoured place in Rule 29 then the proceedings of the Assembly should be conducted in Urdu or English instead of Bangla, which is spoken by four crores forty lakhs of people. It should not have an honoured place in Rule 29 of the Procedure Rules. So, Sir, I know I am voicing the sentiments of the vast millions of our State and therefore, Bangla should not be treated as a Provincial Language.
It should be treated as the language of the State. And therefore, Sir, I suggest that after the word ‘English’, the words ‘Bangla’ be inserted in Rule 29. I do not wish to detain the House but I wish that the Members present here should give a consideration to the sentiments of the vast millions of over State, Sir, and should accept the amendment that has been moved by me.
Written by Dipti Nagpaul |Updated: February 21, 2019 8:47:25 am
One of Varanasi’s own, Namvar Singh was a mentor to many budding writers in the city
Winner of the Sahitya Akademi Award and author of Kavita Ke Naye Pratiman, a seminal book of critical writing on poetry, Namwar Singh was known for his communist views, reinventing Hindi literature through his contemporary writing and his literary critique.
The Kedar tea stall in Varanasi where Namvar Singh would preside over addas
Prakhar, mukhar, shikhar (sharp, articulate, intellectual) — this is how Hindi writer Gaya Singh remembers Namvar Singh. And most people from across literary circles would agree. The noted author, who died on Tuesday of prolonged illness at 92, for decades remained a prominent figure in Hindi literature. Winner of the Sahitya Akademi Award and author of Kavita Ke Naye Pratiman, a seminal book of critical writing on poetry, Singh was known for his communist views, reinventing Hindi literature through his contemporary writing and his literary critique.
Varanasi-based Gaya Singh remembers him as a mentor to several generations of literary names that emerged from the city. “Even as Namvar Singh rose to fame, he would buy, read and support the works of young writers. He would critique their writings and also guide them. It’s a role he played as much off work as he did as a professor at universities like the Banaras Hindu University and laterJawaharlal NehruUniversity,” says Gaya.
Among the many noted writers that Namvar mentored before he moved to Delhi from his hometown Varanasi, was also his younger brother Kashinath Singh. The 82-year-old often reminisces his elder brother’s relationship with the city, its vibrant tea stalls and the culture of political and intellectual debates that shaped his own writing. “These tea stalls once doubled up as addas for poets, writers and artists. For instance, the Kedar Tea Stall was frequented by some of the biggest names in Hindi literature in the ’60s, such as Kedarnath Singh, Vijay Mohan (Sethi), Vidyasagar Nautiyal and Vishwanath Tripathi Dehlavi. These gatherings would be presided over by bhai saab, along with Trilochan. The gatherings would often conclude with a trip to Tulsi Pustakalay, the book shop that stood around the corner,” said Kashinath in an earlier interview to The Indian Express.
While he mentored many writers, Namvar is also remembered for not sparing anyone, be it a dear friend or family, when he critiqued their works. Gaya remembers that once, late author Bachchan Singh was to be felicitated at an event that Namvar was also invited to. “The two were related — Namvar Singh’s daughter was married to Bachchan Singh’s son. However, the former didn’t mince his words when he told the organisers that Bachchan Singh’s works are not significant enough for the honour,” says Gaya.
His critical commentary was sharp but never bereft of humour and wit. Elaborating, Gaya says, “Writers would consider it an honour if Namvar Singh critiqued and approved of their work. But those he didn’t consider worthy of mentioning would hope for a negative review from him in the hope that the wit with which Namvar Singh critiques them will alone be enough to immortalise them in the annals of Hindi literature.”
Written by Khalid Alvi |Updated: February 21, 2019 12:56:24 am
The people’s writer
Remembering one of Independent India’s best-known Hindi author and literary critic, Namvar Singh, who passed away yesterday
Author Namvar Singh
Namvar Singh was a famous writer, literary historian, essayist, progressive activist and stalwart of Marxist criticism. If I am not wrong, he had a premonition of his death. Some months ago, when I met him, he told me that he wanted to visit Varanasi for the last time. There are very few literary figures in free India who lived and died for their ideology, and Singh suffered because of his principles and commitments.
One of the best-known leftists of Banaras Hindu University (BHU) during his student days, Singh was a much-admired student of literature. He was guided by Hazari Prasad Dwivedi, who was in the department of Hindi. Acharya Narendra Deva, the vice chancellor, insisted on his appointment as a lecturer in BHU despite opposition from socialist groups due to his political views. Eventually, Singh had to leave the university when he contested in the parliamentary election on aCommunist Party of Indiaticket.
Many lawyers advised him to file a legal case against BHU, but he felt it was unethical to file a case against his own alma mater. Later he joined Sagar University, followed by Jodhpur University andJawaharlal NehruUniversity, where he started the Centre of Indian Languages. It was the first common department for Hindi and Urdu in any university.
Criticised for an article Basi Bhat Khuda Ka Sajh (Charity in leftovers) published in the monthly magazine Hans – where he criticised the government in Kashmir for making Urdu the second language — he remained unperturbed and felt it was important to teach Urdu at primary and junior level in north India. He also recommended Ali Sardar Jafri’s name for the Jnanpith Award when he was a member of the jury. He was very happy when I dedicated my Urdu book Hindi Shayari to him.
An avid reader of Ghalib, Singh delivered many lectures on Ghalib’s poetry and often cited his couplets. He not only has many books to his credit — including Kavita Ke Naye Pratiman, Chhayawad, Wad Vivad Samwad, Doosari Parampra Ki Khoj, Prithveeraj Raso: Bhasha Aur Sahitya, Hindi Ke Vikas Mein Apbhransh Ka Yog and Baklam Khud — but also edited a reputed Hindi magazine Aalochna.
In it, he emphasised that the social and economic conditions of authors reflect in their writings. He was never apologetic about Hindi language and is a rare literary figure who was not only awarded but also widely admired. In his book Ghar Ka Jogi Jogda, author Kashinath (his brother) shares many untold stories of his childhood. He writes that Singh gave his piece of land to his relatives to avoid any disharmony, though he was also in need of money.
I don’t think any other Namvar will come again to bridge the gap between Urdu and Hindi.
