“Muthhee bandh key aanewale,
Tu hath pasarey jayega
Dhan daulat jagir se tune
Kya paya, kya payega?

Chadhta suraj dhire dhire
Dhalta hain dhal jayega”

You, who are born in this world with your fists clenched (symbolizing wanting to hold on to your belongings)
Will die with your palms open (symbolizing you will have to give up everything when you die)
With all your money, property and belongings
What have you got? What are you going to get?

The shining rising run … will slowly but surely be setting on you!!

Sharmila and the kids are at the Demi Lovato show. I got the whole house and evening to myself! So I decided to kick up my own cacophony at home 🙂

This being the World Mother Language day [the origin goes back to a very unfortunate incident. When the British, in their infinite wisdom, divided India along religious lines before they left in 1947, Pakistan was born as two large noncontiguous landmasses – one is what is today known as Pakistan and the other one is what is today known as Bangladesh. It was originally called East Bengal – because the dividing line broke apart a state that had Bengali speaking guys like me into East Bengal (as part of Pakistan) and West Bengal (as part of contiguous India – where I was born)].

Later East Bengal was renamed East Pakistan and then after its war of independence (Pakistan has a different view on this), it became Bangladesh. In between, there was a move by Pakistan to have a common language – Urdu as the national language. East Pakistan revolted against this – as they wished to keep their language Bengali as their official language – and the protest turned deadly with four students being shot dead.

Much later, UN recognized this day as the World Mother Language day to celebrate diversity in this world.

To celebrate that, spent a couple of hours listening to Bengali songs by singers from Bangladesh – some really young and upcoming talent like Dina, Saju, Liza, Shadhona… My absolute favorites are Chanchal Chowdhury and Momotaj!

Speaking of cacophony, I experimented with a combination of tabla and cajon to those tunes. I had a very faithful and appreciative listener as you can see in the picture 🙂

Also, I do not think UN sanctioned wine as part of the World Mother Language day, but I threw that in for free 🙂

Gar yunhi ghar mein baitha raha
Maar daalengi tanhaiyaan
Chal zara maikade chalein
Ae Fana dil bahal jaayegaa…

And that is all the excuse I needed to open up a bottle of wine this evening, thanks to the poet Fana..

Oh! How the times change with our lives
Oh! How our lives change with our relationships
But! Our relationships never change with our loved ones
Except…
Oh! How our loved ones change with the times!!!

(Inspired by a Bengali poster shared by my friend Shibapriya Dasgupta)

This one is a simple light-hearted funny one by Ogden Nash.

The Pig

“The pig, if I am not mistaken,
Supplies us sausage, ham and bacon,
Let others say his heart is big–
I call it stupid of the pig. ”

This one is a much deeper one (about letting circumstances define you or you take charge to define circumstances) although worded in a very innocuous way by Roald Dahl

The Pig

“In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn’t read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn’t puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, ‘By gum, I’ve got the answer! ‘
‘They want my bacon slice by slice
‘To sell at a tremendous price!
‘They want my tender juicy chops
‘To put in all the butcher’s shops!
‘They want my pork to make a roast
‘And that’s the part’ll cost the most!
‘They want my sausages in strings!
‘They even want my chitterlings!
‘The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!
‘That is the reason for my life! ‘
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great peace of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grisly bit
So let’s not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
‘I had a fairly powerful hunch
‘That he might have me for his lunch.
‘And so, because I feared the worst,
‘I thought I’d better eat him first.’ “

Some incredible poetry…

“Jo puchha ke kis tarah hoti hai baarish / Jabeen se paseene ki boondein gira di,

Jo puchha ke kis tarah girti hai bijli / Nigahein milaaein – mila kar jhuka di

Jo puchha shab-o-roz milte hain kaise / To bhehre pe apne wo zulfein hata di

Jo puchha ke naghmon mein jaadu hai kaisa / To meethe takallum mein baatein suna di

Jo apni tamannon ka haal puchha / To jalti hui chand shamein bhujha di

Main kehta reh gaya khata-e-mohabbat ki achhi saaza di”

Need help from somebody who is more knowledgeable in Urdu than me but roughly I think it is…

When I asked her how does the rain fall / She let a few beads of sweat fall from her forehead

When I asked her how does the lightning strike / She looked at me, and then lowered her eyes

When I asked her how does the night and day come together / She slowly moved her hair away from her face

When I asked her about the magic in music / She whispered a sweet things in my ear

But when I asked her about my own wishes / She quickly snuffed out a few candles

And all I was left saying was, what a punishment this is, for the sin of loving!!

Couple of hours of tabla with Bengali songs. Now I have unwinded well. Better get to bed and sleep before I wind up again…

And these few precepts in thy memory
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear ’t that th’ opposèd may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear but few thy voice.
Take each man’s censure but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy—rich, not gaudy,
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.