Culture

Civilisational studies are quite complex as each one is quite unique or else it would not qualify for the term. Basically, cultures represent natural responses of a people to the requirements of their ecosystem, both organic and inorganic. In India, for instance, we really do not wish “good morning” and “good evening”, except to a Westernised clientele or (in recent times) to colleagues.

২০১৬ তে যখন ডোনাল্ড ট্রাম্প মার্কিন যুক্তরাষ্ট্রের রাষ্ট্রপতি নির্বাচনের প্রচারে তাঁর সেই কুখ্যাত, কুৎসিততম ভাষা ব্যবহার করছিলেন, ঠিক তখন স্ট্যানফোর্ড বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের অধ্যাপক কীথ জে বাইবি (Keith J. Bybee) তাঁর 'How Civility Works' (সৌজন্যতা কী করে সফল হয়) বইতে বেশ কয়েকটি মৌলিক প্রশ্ন তুলেছিলেন। তিনি তাঁর দেশ কি করে ধাপে ধাপে এক অসভ্য বর্বর রাষ্ট্রে পরিণত হচ্ছে বোঝার চেষ্টা করেছিলেন। সাধারণ মানুষের উগ্র ব্যবহার থেকে শুরু করে তিনি সামাজিক ও রাজনৈতিক জীবনের বেশ কয়েকটি দিক তুলে ধরেছিলেন। তিনি অন্যান্য বিষয়ের সাথে সামাজিক মিডিয়ার ভূমিকা ও অশালীন ভাষার ব্যবহার নিয়ে আলোচনা করেছেন কিন্তু তিনি গবেষক, তাই নৈতিকতা নিয়ে প্রশ্ন করেন নি বা ইতিবাচক প্রস্তাবও দেন নি।

What the British found quite disgusting during their long uninvited stay in India was that Indians defecated in open fields, squatting. The Western world picked up and echoed this narrative and these toilet practices were painted as decisively inferior. A massive Swachh Bharat mission has now been launched on a war footing and by this year its target is to make India free of this archaic custom of open defecation—which has to go, as it is anachronistic.

জানি না প্রধানমন্ত্রী নরেন্দ্র মোদী জুলিয়াস সিজ়ারের সেই বিখ্যাত তিনটি কথা ‘ভেনি ভিডি ভিচি’, যার অর্থ ‘আমি এলাম, আমি দেখলাম, আমি জয় করলাম!’ শুনেছেন কি না। তাঁর কলকাতার ঝাঁকিদর্শনের শেষে মনে হয় মাথায় এই উক্তিটিই ঘুরছিল। যদিও গণতন্ত্রে জয়-পরাজয়ের ব্যাপারটা সিজ়ারদের হাত থেকে সম্পূর্ণ ভাবে নিয়ে নিয়েছেন ভোটাররা। নির্বাচনের আগে কলকাতা এসে নেতাজির ১২৫তম জন্মবার্ষিকীর উদ্‌যাপন উদ্বোধন করে বাংলার মানুষের হৃদয়ে পৌঁছবার এই গরম গরম তৎকালের টিকিট তিনি ছাড়বার পাত্র নন।

We know that as soon as the clock strikes midnight on the 31st of December, we step on a brand new year — with a bang and a lot of hope. But, strangely, we never stop to ask why do we celebrate this particular date and time? Why not, say, the first of March or the 25th of March or even on the 25th of December? This is, incidentally, not idle prattle, for all these dates have had the historic honour of actually being observed as ‘New Year’s Day’. Yes. So let’s get into the story of how we went past all these dates to arrive at the first of January.

Irvin and Sunquist have mentioned in their very well-researched book, History of the World Christian Movementthat “prior to the year 300 AD there had been no consensus among Christians concerning the date on which to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Some argued for a spring date, but others suggested December 25...the day celebrated in honour of the ‘Invincible Sun’. Most Christians came to accept December 25, as the birthday of Jesus, integrating thereby elements of the solar monotheism of Solstice and Roman festival of Saturnalia with Christianity”.

To appreciate a meteoric writer like Michael Madhusudan Dutt and estimate his contribution to Indian literature and culture, we need to first take him from the confines of Bengal, where he is stuck, quite unwittingly. In his home ‘province’, he is remembered forever for introducing lasting innovations that enriched a language that was struggling to move out of its archaic mould.

If we are to select one festival that every Hindu in every corner of India celebrates in some form or the other, we would invariably mention ‘Diwali’. It epitomises the operational plurality of Hinduism that has thrived for millennia without a high command, headquarters or one designated holy book.

As many of us admit, one of the major mistakes committed by a secular India was to assume that religious tolerance and amity would last forever. The secular state’s duty was over by declaring public holidays on the major festivals of all religions, but it never seriously considered explaining to the people what and why these celebrations were observed.

Many have often wondered how ancient Indic religions like Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism (Sikhism is not that ‘ancient’) survived and prospered for millennia without a designated holy book like the Bible or the Koran and with no Mecca, Vatican or Jerusalem to guide people. With a little introspection, we come to realise that it is actually this absence of a ‘central command’ and non-uniform format that account for this.

People often wonder why Bengalis worship Durga on the grandest scale possible during Navaratri and why they do not observe the mandatory fasts or rituals — instead gorging on non-vegetarian food. And, this propensity is not limited to any class or caste because Brahmans and so-called upper castes lead the way to celebrate with the best of fish and mutton dishes. The other question is why is it that only Bengal’s image of Ma Durga is so completely different from the rest of India?

In the performing and the visual arts, there are larger numbers who achieved iconic positions but in the domain of cultural popularisation, theorisation and management, we can recall only very few. Dr Kapila Vatsyayan was the last in the unforgettable trio of Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay and Pupul Jayakar as her predecessors. Each of them embarked upon separate missions within the vast space of culture.

The annual festive worship of Durgā is so comfortably settled in the Bengali imagination that her apparent anomalies and contradictions are hardly examined. The first issue is that popular demand in Bengal mandates that she has to be seen with her four 'children' — which is most unlike other parts of India. The second is derived from this as these four `children' appear quite disinterested in Durgā's ferocious battle with Mahiṣāsura, nor do they play any role in it. The third anomaly lies in the fact that Durgā in Bengal appears resplendent in her best dress with a lot of jewellery, even as she is engaged in a mortal combat.

Onam, which bids farewell, is much more than a festival of joy, for it represents the core of the great reconciliatory heart of Hinduism. Most such celebrations recall the victory of a great God or Goddess over dark forces, personified usually by a demonic Asura. The Ramayana marks the destruction of a Rakshasa while the Durga Puja emphasises Devi’s triumph over Mahishasura.

The atmosphere is so charged after the ceremony for the Ram Mandir at Ayodhya that it seems well nigh impossible to discuss positive aspects of this epic in the life of India without flare-ups. But we are not here to debate whether it is myth or history, or even bits of both, nor condone or condemn the destruction of another place of worship. Here, our focus is on the historic unifying role of an epic that is viewed by some as a sharply divisive text.

“You see” said the Red Queen to little Alice in Lewis Caroll’’s Through The Looking Glass, “it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place”.

She was referring to fast moving developments and how the world under our feet moves so rapidly that we all need to keep running all the time — just to stay in the same place. The Red Queen also gave a corollary “If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”

It is only after the recent ravages of the coronavirus that much of the world suddenly realised the virtues of the Indian cultural trademark called ‘namaste’. In the past, foreigners were often surprised or upset when they extended their hand to Indians for a friendly shake, only to be greeted by two palms of the hands joined together, fingers pointing upwards.

Despite considerable material progress, the world still views India as an ancient land steeped in spirituality, with a culture that stretches back to a hoary, unfathomable past. Indians, too, subscribe to this glorification of its timelessness and have been encouraged, especially in the last few years, to take an obsessive pride in this tryst with eternity. Thus, we can hardly be faulted in subscribing to very marketable propositions, like the one that claims our classical dance forms represent an unbroken tradition for several millennia and all of them go back to the venerable sage, Bharata Muni, who composed Natyashastra.

It was only late last night when the hospital sent me a short report on Hari Vasudevan’s precarious condition that I realised he had a middle name as well, Sankar. Caught between a more placid Vishnu and a temperamental Shiva, Hari must have opted quite early for the tranquil deity, for everything about him was so unflappably cool, soothing and gentle.

সম্প্রতি প্রধানমন্ত্রী নরেন্দ্র মোদী যখন শ্যামাপ্রসাদ মুখোপাধ্যায়ের নামে কলকাতা বন্দরের নাম বদলানোর প্রস্তাব দেন, নিঃসন্দেহে সেই বিতর্কিত আইকনকে বাজি ধরতে চেয়েছিলেন তিনি। নাম বদলের ক্ষেত্রে এত মহান দেশনায়কদের ছেড়ে শ্যামাপ্রসাদের মতো সাম্প্রদায়িক নেতার নির্বাচন নিয়ে বাংলার দিকে দিকে জোরালো প্রতিবাদও হয়েছে।