Dhaka Thursday April 14, 2011, Baishakh 1, 1418


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Day One in all its glory

Tulip Chowdhury

 

Photo: Zahedul I Khan

Esho he baishakh, esho esho
taposho nishshao baye, mumurshero dao uraye
botshorer aborjona dur hoye jak
jak puraton sriti, jak bhule jaowa giti…

We sit under the blue sky singing together in unity, the melodious song seeming to reach the infinity of the sky. As our song penetrates through the coolness of the early morn, the new year of Bangla calendar, Baishakh, 1418 enters the time wheel to gladden the hearts. When a new year comes we are filled with feelings that seem to hang momentarily on the buffer zone. The thought wheel swings back to nostalgia for the year that we have crossed and at the same time we are filled with anticipations for the New Year. This feeling of not wanting to let go of the old and yet yearning to reach into the future is a remarkable feature of welcoming a new year. And indeed, as the song says we want to let go of the old memories, let go of the songs not yet sung. At the same time we welcome the new hopes and aspirations for the new year when we sing, “ehso esho esho… he Baishakh…”

Not a year passes by without my going to the Ramna botomul to observe the New Year. It seems as though I wait for the whole year for this morning. There is ecstasy in getting the white and red sari and the flowers for the hair. Throughout the year we dress up for many occasions but dressing up in the red and white for Pahela Baishakh seems to take the heart to the zenith. There is joy in heart as I get ready to welcome the New Year. The flowers that I put on the hair seem to have bloomed just for that day. When I take my children and join the hundreds of others under the “botomul” we become the waves of a pounding sea, we are like the rushing waves flowing to greet the year together. This unity, this blending in for the celebration fills the heart with gladness. We seem to wake up anew to our culture, to realise that we are the proud Bengali endowed with a rich heritage of our own. Pahela Baishakh following March 26 at close heel seems to reunite us once again as a proud nation. When I hum along the songs of the new year with the artists singing in different groups I feel like holding on to each and every song, to hold on to the joyful moments. The dancers are like the flaming krishnochuras dancing on the trees all around.

As I sit, I watch the rising sun filtering in through the thick foliage of the trees. The new sun on this day holds a new meaning. I am glad to be alive, to be witnessing the dawn of another new year. I realise that each and every day is a blessing. The joy that fills the heart makes me think of the price we have paid to reach this freedom to sit with unity and sing in praise or our new year. Thoughts run down the memory lane to the liberation war in 1971. Our valiant freedom fighters had laid down their lives to achieve our freedom from the dictators of Pakistan. I pay my respect to them on this day. And I am sure that hundreds of other hearts too thank our martyrs as they sing with joy. We thrive as Bengalis because we are citizens of a proud nation. Our culture and our heritage flourish under the open sky. There is no obstacle to taking our place in the world as Bangladeshis. And so on this auspicious day of the Pahela Baishakh we sing,

Oi bhuji kalbaishakhi
shondha akash dey dhaki
bhoy ki re, tor bhoy kare
dar khule dish char dhare…

As the song urges us to open all the doors, we indeed welcome the New Year with open arms. Life is not all about roses all the way. There are throngs with the flowers. Life will come with joy and sorrow. However, that does not keep us from reaching out to the outside world. We cannot be intimated by unknown fears. As we welcome the New Year we are aware that we do not know all that is coming in the package. There will be lights of happiness and there will be dark moments of failure. Dreams will be fulfilled and hopes will be lost. The New Year seems to be like Pandora's box, waiting to be opened. Whatever comes, no matter how difficult life might become we pray to the Almighty for courage to hold on to that eternal flame that keeps us going; we cling to hope.

On this remarkable crossing of time we are reminded of the limited time allotted to us. I remember that life comes with that inevitable ending. Perhaps I should make haste for the hundreds of things that are pending to be done. Maybe it is time to sing the unsung songs. As I sit under the botomul watching the birds flying overhead I feel like asking them,

“Birds, will I be here when the next Pahela Baishakh comes?”

My heart soars high with the flying birds and the when I hear the chorus songs of the Baishakh I come down to the earth and realise that life is precious for what it holds in its passing moments. I am with hundreds of other people, we sit together celebrating our new year, our unity complete with each with every line of the songs being sung. Come Baishakh, come with all your glory, come with immeasurable joys to all the hearts singing and dancing to welcome you.

Tulip Chowdhury writes fiction and poetry.


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