Letter to Rantuda...wherever he is

Dear Rantuda,

            It's been such a long time that I do not know where to start, but it is only appropriate that I start by asking you about the general welbeing of your family and yourself. Hope you are doing well.
            I am a bit old fashioned when it comes to communication. I believe in writing long letters rather than communicating through emotionless, mechanical scraps on facebook !! Ideally I would have loved to send you a hand written letter by post..maybe someday I will ( it is a dying art you will agree). I am not against technology, just that I feel we dont use technolgy for the right reasons.

           I had desperately tried to get in touch with you over the last so many years but in vain. Looking back at the time we spent together in Konnagar, I am amazed at how ignorant and novice I was back then. I could not understand half the things you used to discuss with me. It was years later that I realised what a profound influence you had on my life and the way I today look at this world. Over the years I have come to appreciate and understand Suman Chatterjee, Pratul, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Pete Seger Bob marley, Che Guevara and others. In many ways you planted the seeds of my political, economic and social consciousness. I remember the free school you and Bappada used to run along with your other friends....  

          I want you to know that you taught me really well. Even though I went on to study Commerce, I fell in love with Maths and Physics and still today whenever I see a book on Physics I do pick it up. What is more important Rantuda, you taught me how to think logically and systematically.

          You will agree that we discussed much more than Physics and Maths. I would like to remember those days like that in ancient Greece, where education was imparted by philosophers to students through series of discussions. I am curious to know what your thoughts are in today's backdrop. Do you still believe in Marx and Lenin and the possibility and efficacy of a classless society? Do you still have faith in the wisdom of the common people to rise in revolt? Does your blood boil when you see injustice? Or have you compromised and given up on the dream as just a campus romance of an intellectually fertile mind?..... Do you still play bridge? Do you still write poetry Rantuda?   

           There are so many things that we need to catch up on. I will eagerly wait for your response and your mail. Till then...

Regards,

Neelav

Memories

I was not born when Mohiner Ghoraguli was formed. My first "Live" experience of MG was at the Calcutta Book Fair ground, listening to Gautamda sing, with just an acoustic guitar, surrounded by a group of young boys and girls all swaying to the rythm like some ancient ritual...it was mesmerizing!! Rupam was there too :) He sang unbridled and with no care in the world attitude and the guitar would pass from one hand to another... I have seen Nochiketa, Anindyo in the same group...somewhat unbelieveable today. But Gautamda brought everyone together on the grass (pun intended). For me it was Woodstock version 2.0!!

I remember when Gautamda passed away in June 1999, a memorial function was organised at the Calcutta University Hall on College street. It had been raining since morning and I remember taking the early morning local train from Rishra to attend the function, unwilling to miss even a fraction of a second of the event. All the old Ghora's were there including Ranjonda who was the Master of Ceremony for the day and Bulada who was overcome with emotion while playing the flute...Bishuda if I remember correctly was there too (apologies if I am mistaken). Gaur khepa was there too and Neel accompanied him with a guitar on a baul song. I was sitting alone in one corner of the hall, soaking up the events and emotions of the day...(a few drops of tears did manage to make its way through).

Just wanted to pen it down so that I dont forget where it had all started. 

Social evil and Mass media

Here’s my take on the concept of social evil and the role of mass media in general. Calling ourselves Human Beings as differentiated from animals is but an eyewash of astronomic proportions. We are nothing but animals – wild and Darwinian. Our upbringing and our education tempers and tames our animal instincts to a certain extent but left to ourselves we would eat each other up… which is nothing but our base instincts coming to the fore in all its darwininian ‘survival of the fittest’ glory and hence is not always a bad thing. So evil as we define it is nothing but our animal nature coming through our so called polished exterior. To cut a long argument short we are all ‘evil’.

Interestingly and  importantly social evil when seen through the prism of time and location varies dramatically. So the biggest evil of the modern history – Hitler would have been treated like Alexander the great had he been born in another time period and Ghengiz Khan would not look so great as he is made out to be in our history books.

Coming to the topic at hand, Amir Khan and his initiative, someone should have advised him that mass media has never had the slightest impact on human base social behaviour anywhere in the world, let alone India. Evil is ingrained in our very existence. No radio programme, movie, art has changed anything. Nothing will change with this show either. The role of mass media is very different and changing behaviour or making an intellectual discussion is not the role of mass media. Mass media, art, music can at best be a mirror in the face of society and hope that people will get the message, which needless to mention rarely happens.

So does that mean that there is no way to change human behaviour and make it less animal like? The answer is yes through education and education alone. But the truth is that the two socio-political  formats that exist in the world will never let this happen.  Socialism controls education and actually denies education so that the mass never thinks for itself. Capitalism is worse and creates barriers in the route of education of the masses by putting a price tag which only a few can afford. This brings us back to the fact that evil can never be curbed and certainly not through a TV programme.

To Lyric...when i'm gone

Before my time is done
Before I’ve had my fair share of fun under the summer sun,
Before my blood dries up and refuses to run
I’ll write a few lines for you, hold up a light for you, pick up a fight for you,
Introduce a few friends of mine to you
Che, Marx, Gautam, Dylan, Hendrix, Water, Rimbaud, Morrison, Shakespeare,
Have no fear, my dear, I’ll always be there, somewhere near,
I’ll make my last stand next to you, right over here.

And when you grow up,
Hope you choose right and open the doors of perception, understand the implication,
Dig deep for salvation,
Raise your clenched fist for liberty, truth and revolution.

Stand tall for all that you will learn to believe in,
Never give up, never give in,
Make the lyric ring true whenever you sing.
Dream, imagine, destroy, create now for we will not live for ever
So do me a favour
At times just let it be,
Coz you will realize that anger does not pay even though it comes for free.

But over and above
I hope you return every night to true love.
And when I’m gone, shed no tear, have no fear, my dear,
I’ll always be there, somewhere near.

Little Insane

Hope I got u listening coz I got something to say
Hope u got a little space coz I have got nowhere to stay
Standing here all drenched outside in this midsummer rain
Trying the best I can to hide this shame

Hey I’m sorry now...was a little insane
Hey forgive me now…can we start again?

Sitting here with a cup of sadness held in my hand
Trying to blow this candle out but somehow I can’t
Wondering all this while, can I make a last stand?
But time seems to slip away like grains of sand.

Hey I’m sorry now..was a little insane
Hey forgive me now…can we start again?

The song

Here's to the misfits

Gut wrenching vocals, twenty mile long guitar shreds, a hundred head bangs, a thousand fist pumps, a gallon of beer, whiskey on the rocks, hash none of it can sum up what transpired last night. Over three hours the Devil was paid his due! Over three hours we gathered like ancient believers and paid homage to the ancient pagan god Dionysius. Over three hours we showed a middle finger to the purists and did what has been recommended by Morrison – threw caution and inhibition to the wind, and danced like children in a fairground.
If Music is Religion and Performance is Worship then the few of us who have “exchanged a walk on path in the war for a lead role in a cage” bore witness to something spiritual. Something that is possible only through music, something that Marley, Morrison and the likes have cried themselves hoarse trying to explain -that they have seen something or someone who cannot be explained. And if you “listened very hard” and carefully you would have heard Voodoo Child whispering faintly into your ears – “We told you so !!”.

My Song

I will sing you my song, my love, to the symphony of the enemies Kalashnikov

My song smells not of flower, but of burnt flesh and gunpowder,
My song is red with the blood of my father,
My song is somber at the death of my brother.

My song has no words, just the silence of a landmine,
If you can hold on through this night, I promise you tomorrow will be fine.
Till then, let me sing you my song, my love, to the symphony of the enemies Kalashnikov