Fresh Flames...

I have got the Jasmines and the chrysanthemums

And the white roses and Lilies for your bosom

That now rests silently in the grave, covered in brown.

And the dust gathered over the woods!

You have seen the tumultuous waves of endless torture

Of your body being maligned by men – they claim to have the right

To measure your worth over your physique!

The night was brutal and each moment was painful;

Yet you survived the grim and gory hour!

Canons of waters splashed in the streets

As a Nation awoke from its slumbers

From the dead and deafening doze

Of nightmares and solitude!

Tears flowed and met others on the way

Who dared to share your dream!

Who moved from pillar to poles!

Throwing colours of change on the streets

That halted only at passing smart vehicles

With red beams!

Each candle lit for a new dawn

Each flame lit with a hope

Every voice was an outcry against

The system that gives birth and

Space to such hideous act…

Over the macabre of dust and wax

Over the grave of hope and fear

Rested a word – awake!

Your flight to a new life,

Your flight to freedom,

Your dream of a new journey

Began --- and halted?

Who are you --- a voice, a shape, a shadow?

Of delight, of pain, of remembrances, of sorrow

Of fear, of distress, of joy and ecstasy, of regret ---

To be born as a women among men?

To be thankful to let to live in peace,

Really; and shyly, in the stillness and quietness of

Mournful silence!

The early hour of the day break was dark, and bright,

As you met your creator in flames, dead, still and yet

Shaking each conscience that boasted of

Freedom at midnight; and as the rays of the sun

Carried the ashes, piercing each heart and soul ---

A thousand flames rose into the widening sky ---

Jolting in the fear and predicament of hope and fury;

A thousand rays split the waves of stillness and silence!

Each candle blazed in the flames!

My jasmines and roses and chrysanthemums are still fresh

Sky Fall

The day of the lullaby is behind;

New dawn brings in fresh fragrance

Filled with marigold and emerald green;

Life blossoms!

Each movement comes within a moment

Of sparkles and sweet delight;

As the sun glaringly flashes beams of happiness;

Life journeys!

The night is dreary, yet dreamy.

The tiring stretches of crowded buses

And small corridors, do not stress the soul –

Life awaits!

The embracing warmth of the night sky

And the gathered thoughts of the tiring day,

Adds a new look to the dawn –

Life Shines!

The moving train halts at the subway

Defining further the route to trod,

As she walks through… and her folding arms

Checks each careful steps…

Life strengthens!

She knows the danger of times,

Of forceful eyes and alarming ties,

Of naked vision and wild cord,

Of being abandoned and deprived… 

‘Careful’, she murmurs as she walks –

The night follows….

Quietly, carefully, disturbingly, her

Fear grips her, her pride gives up

The hope of the loneliness around,

As she strangely looks at the wide

Lamppost and the beaming clouded light –

Drowned with fear, floating on hope,

She moves…

Reflections, her shadow torments her,

Yet she steadies her path,

Following her steps, counting each word,

Numbering her pace!

Is she free from the bondage of fear?

Is the freedom of birth so painful?

Is the world mute to her solitude…?

Rajdeep Pathak

Strings, Attached…

 I know not the joyous music of the strings

And the notes that your soul springs forth…

The silence of the strings makes me yearn

For words that could match the cold touch!

I see you sprint your thoughts as you

Create the ode into a riot of designs

Springing to and fro to transform the cold,

Into a more hopeful incredible sound!

Can you find me in the crowd of stillness

In the strings that echo an assurance?

Can you define the parallels of calmness?

The white and black shades of styled frames,

That fashion your possessed beauty?

The musical sound of the strings plays

With the perfumes sprayed around…

It’s a world of romanticism, of love and different shades

Of sounds and voices and chiming bells!

In that stillness of the night

The dedicated lovers cross streams of notes,

As flames cross decades of silence ---

The night plays on…!

Give me your word not to depart

For I have journeyed my soul with yours,

For I have sung with those strings…

Notes that not many dared to sing!

My tears of hope scroll down deep,

My eyes meet yours in solitude;

Wait, oh! Night, let it be, let it be…

For I know the strings by now –

Let it be, oh! Night…!

           

  Rajdeep Pathak

                                                                                                               November 16, 2013

The Music at the Coffee House falls silent

As I write these lines – to be frank at heart and outspoken – I am not mourning the death of Manna Dey. I am a little bereft of words and expressions and recall the lines of one of his immortal songs phool gendua na maro  from the movie Dooj Ka Chand 1964… that caught my attention at a very early age when I did not understand a bit of classical music – not that I do it even today. Being very young, I could not understand the nuances of the ragas, yet Manna Dey’s tonal expressions left an indelible mark on me. I would say, my journey with Manna Dey sahab’s meticulous music and unique style had begun. 

As news spread over the legendary singer’s demise, both social and entertainment media were flooded with the music of this genius. From the news channels to the broadcasters also, Manna Dey’s songs were all across. For a moment, I thought the golden era of music had revisited us once again. And songs such as Puchho Na Kaise Maine Rain Bitai (Meri Surat, Teri Ankhen 1963), Aye Mere Pyare Watan from Kabuliwala (1961), Laga Chunari Mein Daag from Dil Hi Toh Hai (1963), Sur Na Saje from Basant Bahar (1956), Ae Meri Zohra Jabeen from Waqt (1965), refreshed our taste of listening to good music, which has recently eluded us. 

My memories of listening to his songs from the HMV collections of Manna Dey’s classical music, in the small Philips tape recorder – which we still have, but seldom play – sent me back to the time, when during concerts as part of the Durga Puja celebrations – or any other social get together, we would specifically request the artistes on stage to sing laga chunari mein daag or lapak jhapak tu aa re badarwa or Coffee Houser Sei Adda Ta. And the audience would go crazy. I still remember, none would dare to disturb anybody else. The silence was broken with the soulful rendition of the songs, but the artistes never forgot to seek forgiveness from the audience, before attempting such immortal songs.

Such was his magnanimity, that in a career spanning over five decades, Manna Dey’s songs could never be challenged by other legendary singers like Mohd Rafi, or Kishore Kumar. His training in classical music from his uncle, the famous Krishna Chandra Dey helped him at ease with various ragas, so much so that renowned music directors of the time, from Sachin Dev Barman to Vasant Desai, Anil Biswas, Shakar Jaikishan to Salil Choudhury and later R D Burman, Laxmikant-Pyarelal had made their choice for Manna Dey for complicated classical songs based on different ragas. 

Even in songs that proved his versatility through his renditions of Ek chatoor nar (Padosan) or Masti bhari hai sama (Parvarish), or for that matter Dil Ki Girah (Raat Aur Din), his grief that reflected in Aye Mere Payere Watan once again proved beyond doubt, that he could embellish some of the most difficult songs with ease. 

Very few singers could take the credit of singing duets with singers like Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle, Mohd Rafi, Kishore Kumar, Mukesh, Mahendra Kapoor, Talat Mahmood, Amit Kumar, Shailendra Singh, Krishna Kalle, Shardha Rajan Iyengar, Aarthi Mukherjee, Chandrani Mukherjee, Anuradha Pudwal, Hemlata, Minu Purushottom, Bhupinder Singh, K.J.Yesudas, Suresh Wadkar, Kavita Krishnamoorty Subramaniam, Alka Yagnik, Antara Chowdhury, Preeti Sagar, Dilraj Kaur, Yunus Fazmi, Jaspal Singh, Anwar, Manhar Udhas, Joginder and Mubarak Begum. 

Manna Dey was one of them. He sang with singers of every generation in Indian films from 1940-2005. He worked with more than 102 music directors in Hindi film industry from working with Krishna Chandra Dey in Tamanna in 1942 to music composer Shamir Tandon in 2006, giving his voice to over 3500 songs. 

While his contributions to the world of Hindi Film Music, is beyond any words, Bengal and other parts of the country too had their share from this musical wizard. A person who has oft said that he never considered himself a singer, the world of music can surely vouch for this singer who had it all – the range, the voice, the soul, and most importantly the humility. He loved his music and loved musicians. His versatility was his strength and he was able to capture the essence of any song – whether classical, fusion, bhajans or folk. 

Some of his songs in Bengali such as Baje Go Beena; Shundori Go, Duhai, Duhai; Obhimane Chole Jeona; Ami Jamini, Tumi Soshi He; Sobai to Sukhi Hote Chaye; Oi Kule Aami, Aar Oi Kule Tumi; Ami Jey Jolsha Ghorey; and the immortal Coffee Houser Sei Adda Ta;  including many others, have been sung innumerable times and on different occasions by professional artistes, at musical programs, and at different musical social gatherings. And these songs remain forever young and fresh. 

Whether it was Rabindra Sangeet, Nazrul Geeti, Shyama Sangeet, Geeti Natya or non-film songs, Manna Dey had sung all genres of songs and created his own unique identity. 

Multiple National Award winner, Padma Bhushan and Dadasaheb Phalke awardee Manna Dey Sahab, died on October 24, 2013 in Bengaluru, following a renal failure and respiratory illness. He was 94. 

As I conclude, I recall my interactions with one of the leading classical singers of the country, Pandit Ajoy Chakraborty, who had the honour of presenting the life time achievement award to Manna Dey on August 2012 at his residence. Like all others, Pt. Ajoy Chakraborty was in awe of Manna Dey’s singing and recounted how humble and childlike a person he was. His music showed his simplicity and love towards humankind, Panditji had said about the legendary singer. 

I also recall these lines from the movie Anand – Zindagi, kaisi hai paheli, haae/kabhi to hasaaye/kabhi ye rulaaye … and goes on to say… Jinhone sajaae yahaan mele/sukh-dukh sang-sang jhele/vahi chunakar khaamoshi/yun chale jaae akele kahaan/zindagi… and Manna Dey’s soulful humming sings in the background.

The musical adda of Coffee House may be gone, but the timelessness that has evolved in this house over coffee and music of Manna Dey will continue to enthrall us and our future generation. For, good music never dies. And that is exactly the reason, why I wouldn’t mourn. I nevertheless feel a pain in some corner of my heart that this stylish singer will not be seen around.

The silence over the coffee table is a reminder that good music needs to be nurtured and cultivated. This is what Manna Dey did all his life and the responsibility will be to carry on this legacy with sincerity and commitment.

Manna Dey sahab, as I borrow these lines from your song – Jodi kagoje lekho nam, kagoj chhire jabe/pathore lekho nam, pathor khoye jabe/hridaye lekho nam se nam roye jabe… (if you write on paper, the paper will tear/if you write on rock, the rock will decay/if you write the name on the heart, the name will be etched forever), I must say, you have imprinted your name in our hearts, and that will remain forever.

Farewell to this musical wizard, Manna Dey (May 1, 1919 – October 24, 2013).

My blissful ride

From inside the blanket

Your eyes glittered and beamed so bright

Your looks so divine, your grip so tight!

I walked slowly, carefully, counting my steps

One, two, three and many more, as each

Corridor and its doors stared me…!

Nothing deterred me in my journey

Into this new world of dreams, of laughter

Of moments of silence, of joy and of caress…!

Slowly, steadily, in a fine balancing act –

The first child in me smiled back, as tears

Flowed down, carelessly, as I held you;

And as the doors opened and shut before me.

Moments of joy and fear accompanied

My thoughts, now vulnerable – tears of joy

Still rolled on, as you smiled again for a while!

Unknown into this world, in my arms,

From your mother’s womb, as you join

Me in the blissful ride through the paths and alleys ---

Nine months you nurtured yourself

In her sheltered womb, away from the light and the dust!

She danced, she sang, you heard, you moved;

She felt, you sensed, she cried, you comforted;

She embraced, you cuddled, she secured, you sealed!

The bond has just begun….!

Rajdeep Pathak

June 26, 2013

For my daughter, Sharanya, who is now two-and-a half-years old. The above written lines are those that I felt as a father, when I held her in my arms for the first time on October 11, 2010.

Walking in the Rain…

Have you seen those majestic drops,
In the blue ocean, as they
Danced in the still waters…
While I watched them create waves
In between those stillness that surrounded the sky?

Misty, yet clear drops fell with a thumping sound
Thrashing, whistling; breaking the stillness of the night….

My dreams are over and I leap forth to the ground,
Humming merrily a tune of the rain as she walks into
My green land of lilies and roses and pomegranates;
Her feet wet with the waters she brings home!

I have now taken the strings of the veena
Setting it to a soulful music of the clouds
That coats the sky above with a disguised look,
Camouflaging the veil of the costume worn…!

My thoughts envelop in some distant flight,
And I trace the paths that the waters walked;
The strings of the veena trails behind, unmatched
With those notes, yet unsung!

Way forward, I have not asked her name,
Nor have I chased the shadowed lines
Of the rainbow, which I yearned from the mountains behind!

The rise and fall of the waves flows with the waters
Lifting each sound of the music and the soul to harmony!

My veena now sings in melody as notes match
With the flow of the drops, tinkling each vein,
Tuning my thoughts to her quick movements!

My feet touch her; feels her pitch; sets her to a song…
The veena plays on, breaking the slightest silence…
As I lay bare myself, before her…!

Rajdeep Pathak

June 22, 2013

Waiting Room

The chaos of people has rested

In the silence of the night; only

The screeching owl gives a call…

Even the siren hangs by the side of the wooden frame.

People, lying here and there in

The colourful bed sheets

That spread around few corners of the room

That shelters them temporarily!

Silence does not echo extending any notes;

As the signals too have been shut down!

Only a small yellow lamp beams through

The night into those distance uncovered paths…

The man with the toilet broom rests his head

Over a pillow after the toil – the broom still

Held under his grip, tight – also – relaxed!

His day ends with a piece of bread and tea,

And wakes with fresh falling stream of water

From the nearby water tank that overflows

At the break of dawn… the broom hangs by the shoulder now…

A child lay by his mother, as his sister comforts close by,

Their father holds on to the chained trunk, moving his hand to and fro,

While the mother covers her face from the flies that sing around!

Noises are at halt, only the puppy at crossroads cries,

As many from the nearby slum join the chorus!

Some lanterns and light bulbs gleam through the dark,

Flashing flickers of golden sparkle across.

A slight breeze spreads the beam to the outer space;

As night hosts multitude of shadows!

The striking clock paces and strikes

With each passing hour as movements

Begin to rise, fade, relapses and gain momentum!

The journey begins once more swiftly

Into the day, the noon, and the dusk!

Splashes of water flows across the ‘waiting room’;

Cleansed for new arrivals…!

                                                                                                     Rajdeep Pathak

Knitting Love



A view of the dolls created by Tara Gandhi Bhattacharjee



Faces covered, yet not hidden

From the naked eyes, as

Each strings of the eternal

Thread of love and care, bind one another!

Shades of laughter, of sadness, of gravity

Of silence – visible and remarkable;

 There’s different colour, living and sharing

With one another – playing with each strings of

The thread of life – of shades of grey, white, black, red and green!

Those hands that’ve woven each strings

With flowering thoughts, have filled

Many a lives, with colours, bright and blue!

The bangles making sweet chimes across the

Threads that weave magic with needles which

Swirl around the clothes – red, blue and black,

Old, yet fresh…

White cottons smile, as they watch and

Feel the thread that they yield, proudly,

Matching their little strings

With colours of love and hope!

As they stand, as they smile,

As they relax, they watch, as

Movements grow from rhythm to rhythm

Growing from sweet to somber, knitting love;

Finery, woven, as they evolve…!

My dolls, my shades, my likes,

My colours, my silence; woven, felt and nurtured!

(Rajdeep Pathak)

April 24, 2013

(A tribute to the Artist, Smt Tara Gandhi Bhattacharjee, as she weaves relations and feeling through her dolls).