Here is the link for those who love to have a journey in silence through images of Bengali Villages.The smell and nostalgia of a village life - the hardship and the joy of community life dance hand in hand.Those away from village wonder how it is to live in a village. We have so much love for the rural land where all our ancestors came from, but we find it hard to connect with it - the medium to connect miss out in the hectic chaotic daily routines of city life. The crowd and the noise slowly but steadily take us inch by inch away from the land where we are destined to connect if the human race on earth wish to live a peaceful existence. Here is a link to discover the people in their own attire doing their daily chores. Here the road is not spread with gold, life is often faced with crisis for survival.But I discover the spirit of life and of hope in the innocent neglected faces of rural Bengal - we need to connect to them and embrace them to higher order of happiness and well being. Here is the link to discover Bangla village and through the mirror of Bengal, discover and protect the beauty and sanctity of village life.
The images in the link are not compiled with a distinct order and make you feel the randomness of living - the joy and sudden hardship chasing you. Certain characters find place here to magnify the feel that these great men of Bengal wanted for the humanity especially the toiling masses of rural hinterland.
Aasche Bachar Aabar Hobe ! Hip Hip Hurray!!! It's Dasami - Vijaya Dasami - the tenth day we children of Ma Durga take her on a farewell journey, after nine days of fun and frolic. As if the smell of the air changes in the October. The roads , the banal roads we travel every day , looks new with excitement. People's usual faces look brighten up. we Bengalis exalt, seeing our mental happiness reflect in the faces of passersby. The roads to Mandaps dress up with lighting and with Welcome Gates. Oh Ma! If there would have been such gaiety for the whole year, the earth would have been such a nicer place to live. Today is Vijaya Dasami - Ma Durga and Her family leaving the children of earth to return to Her Sasural in Himalayas. We are sad. Mother is carried by camel-cart with devotees following her to the Sabarmati River - the place of immersion. Today I don't know why, that dhaki is drumming a melodious tune - perhaps ...perhaps this sojourn might be his last darshan on earth with eternal mother ! Millions of Minds go blank! Dhaki beats the drum for the last hour! A few days of carefree loving attachment with mother and the puja mandap is over ! The fresh air and cheer in the air getting dampened with the dark curtains of evening shadows ....Ma Darga is slowly moving out in a procession away into the street ....the devotees are dancing and following her! The video taken by emerging photographer SM captures that special moment - the nostalgic journey of mother from Puja Mandap to immersion ghat, devotees shouting with sudden hope among all round despair on Ma's leaving us - Aasche Bachar Aabar Hobe! Ma! we will see You Again in the coming Sarat Kal( season of Autumn) ! Aabar Kassh Phool Phutbe Mathe! Aabar Siuli phhol bheja rastai aasbe tumi notun aagomoni gaan niye!![ Again the rural field would get filled with Kash flowers! Again you will return with new Agamani songs on the due soaked rural roads filled with fallen siuli petals]
Devotees line up and touches Ma 's feet before Her family's sojourn to her In-laws home.
The nostalgic moment - the eternal family of ours take Adieu! That's life's cycle - that we devotes would perhaps don't like to repeat. But one day we have to adieu all our near and dear ones !
A prayer with incense burning before the Durga Idol, priest's chanting of Vedic hymns, the beats of Dkak ( drum) and Kasor-ghonta. And the devotees offer prayer to Goddess Durga throuch an intricate dance holding dhunuchi ( an earthen pot with a holder) - with half-burnt hot red dried coconut strips. As the dance in trance, other devotes surround the dancers and get immersed in the sea of emotion and love for their eternal Ma, Mother Durga - the Durgatinashini - the slayer of the evil forces from the society.
The beats of Dhang-Kur-Kur. Listen to the Dhak( the drums), folk instrumental music of Bengal which goes deep down into the ritualistic tradition of Durga Puja. This decaying clan of dhakis ( the drummers are often called) are on the decline due to economic reason. But a puja is incomplete without Ma Durga listening to the jugol-bandhi beats of dhak and kasor. These dhakis here, came from far flung Bengal, from the district of Medinipore, travelling 3 days on the road to reach the venue. Dhak for Dhaki is an occupation carried through generations but those who carry the tradition carry the passion for the folk music which is clearly evident in this video - coming from the lens of promising emerging photographer SM.
Ahmedabad Durga Puja - six days festivity to celebrate the win of the Goddess Durga against Mahisasur , the Devil. The video try to capture an early evening panoromic view of the venue - taken just before the flood of people swarm the place. It slowly turn into a little Bengal where migrant Bengali work force find peace in the comfort of cultural theme based evening programs and the lip sucking veg and non-veg menus that they chance upon.
A slice of life is captured by Siddharth Maitra who captured the essence of durga puja how celebrated in India away from Bengal. Please click the you tube link below
When we see a spate of fasting and feasting happening around India - we wonder in humor, perhaps our FMs at centre and states would be happy with Indian youth imbibing fasting as a fad and a health route to slimming while demand side of food falling to match shortage in supply. There are many families who fast as a routine with one meal a day as they can't afford. The number is large. But how large is not the matter we are dealing here. What the moot point is, in a country of millions of hungry bellies, if a healthy well fed man declares fast for a couple of days or even for a fortnight, can it become such a big issue ? Putting aside the cause what so ever noble that may be, will those millions of families sway and burst in anger if a man or a group spend lakhs to fast? Would it not strike their mind that the same money could have been better spent by feeding those families who cant afford a square meal! Here comes the media. Media picks up whom to promote and whom not. That's the tragedy of media failing often to meet its fourth pillar role of a democracy.Media promote not always events as per national need but project chaos more often than the silent goodness seen in the backyard. Its business for media to catch eye ball at the cost of nation.. Had it been, we would have Pataudis, Amirs, Aruna Roys, Sunita Narains covering the noise space of idiot box , rather than by the Ravi shahstris, Lalit Modis, Rekha Sawants and the Advanis.Reader is justifiable what make these two group distinct and why India eveloping as a federal composite culture needs more followers of the firsts in bracket than the later.There would be enough time in future to deal with each one separately. Today I am here after a long gap, to record my homage of one of the finest soul of India - one of the brightest stars that Indians will dearly keep in the heart - yes, I am talking about Tiger Pataudi - Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi.
Tiger Pataudi turned into follklore hero in my teens. In the early seventies, when I was in my school in Kolkata, there were days when my grand dad would begin telling about his sports heroes - there were Hazares, Mankads, Merchants... there was this one-eyed Nawab of the field who caught my fantasy. In those days there was no TV at home. No net. No telephones. Radio was only point of contact with the distant world beyond your locality. Grandad would get excited as he would explain how after losing his eye, scored a double century. Oh what a lightning run he used to run to cover the entire cover and let not pass a single enemy ball. Grand dad used to tell his cricketing heroics on foreign soil. His grace on and off the field.
I remember Pataudi of the 74-75. I was reeling with chicken pox and bed ridden and listening to Eden's famous Bangla cricket commentary of "Kamalda" - explaining over radio with poetic verb how Pataudi struck three consecutive 4s. India won that match against an all time best west Indies team. That was long back. 4 decades after that Pataudi lived in India. We never looked upon Pataudi as a muslim mascot but a vintage Indian that spreads fragrance of good hope . .That's the image Pataudi left behind.A legacy to live with grace and dignity. I hope Gujarat's Modi's team would have a difficult game at hand if Pataudi wanted to attend Sadbhavana Fast without a head cap. The point that comes out clearly here is - there are two Indias - one where visioners are Amirs and Pataudis who set for the Indian community a path to composite culture where all religions co-exist and not challenge each other, and there is another India of votes and fasts and rath-yatras where the true love and belief in co-existence is a publicity gimmick for economic convenience and for becoming a bigger vote catcher on a larger Indian hinterland.
Even the moon has its dark spots. In the emotive heat of eulogizing Pataudi, the media has gone blind to the fact that one court case is running where MAK Pataudi is accused of killing a life protected under Wild Life Act. With the death, curtain to the case will be drawn by the court.
We will miss Mansur Pataudi on his expert comments on many critical issues that Indian cricket faced. That crisp one liners Pataudii was famous for, will remain with us as a treasure. And the future generations of India would show better respect PAT's soul by showing and guarding Indianness than regionalism in all walks of life and placing heart and the head above religion..
Before you Pray - Believe; Before you Criticise - Wait; Before you Speak - Listen; Before you Spend - Earn; Before you Write - Think; Before you Quit - Try; Before you Die - Live.
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Marriage ceremony in a village
Mothers toiling to collect drinking water 
A village fair
