Himalaya Calling - In Praise of a Silence...

"And if these mountains had eyes, they would wake to find two strangers in their fences, standing in admiration as a breathing red pours its tinge upon earth's shore.

These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man's weak praise should be given God's attention..."

- en route to Ukhimath, Uttarakhand.

Folk Tales.

You asked me once - Do I love talking to you ? Yes!I love to talk to you in my own silence and burn within, in an unknown purifying desire.

I keep listening to your deep warm raven like eyes. And as I immerse in your fairy tales, I go down deeper. Deeper from where there's no return.

A sort of Fantasy.Fantasy of being with you in silence and getting lost in your waves of touches....

I fear if I telephone you and listen to your voice, then I might be losing you and your fantasy and come back to a reality - a reality that you're lost and gone!

By the way do you remember the Folk Tales we used to read, during those wet, lusty rains?

Salaam Bombay - The Lonely Boat

Calcutta Chromosomes - The River Story

Hungry Tides - Kafka & the Shore ....

If you look at the war, closely, you would know the necessity of destruction of a Space within that moment is inimitable for Time to travel. Travel beyond the remotest darkness and reach towards a point of Absolution.

An Absolution of White!

And similarly the waves are a necessity for the Shore to empty it's wet chest for a brief moment and let the moment of stillness to arrive in an otherwise continuous circular motion of Time!

(Bay of Bengal, Sunderbans.)

Hungry Tides - Conservation, Fables & The Land of 18 Tides!

In the land of the Sunderbans, ruled by tigers, tides, and the uncertainties of nature, there is a unique tradition of conservation and communal harmony. It is based on the villagers’ unflinching faith in Maa Bonbibi (forest deity) who is believed to bestow them with strength and protection against Raja Dakshinrai (tiger god) as they struggle to eke out a living in the mangrove swamps.

In most parts of the country, ‘Maa’ invokes Goddess Shakti/Durga and her many forms. Here, strangely, Maa Bonbibi does not refer to a Hindu deity. On the contrary, she is a Muslim goddess who protects everyone irrespective of their community. Hers is the presiding “forest religion” in the mangrove delta, deeply embedded in the social and cultural mores of the villagers and passed down from generation to generation.

Thatched shrines bearing icons of the goddess, accompanied by her brother Shah Jongli and mounted on the Supreme Tiger God Raja Dakshinrai, dot villages along the rivers. Chants of “Maa Bonbibi Allah, Allah” mingle effortlessly with “Maa Bonodevi Durga, Durga” as woodcutters, honey collectors and fishermen pay obeisance before venturing out into tiger territory. Muslims tuck in their beards and sit arm-in-arm with the Hindus before the idols; Hindus, in turn, have no qualms about praying to a Muslim deity.

“The forest and the tiger bind us together. A Muslim may pray five times in a mosque, and Hindus perform aarti in the temple, but when it is time to go into the forest we are all together in our prayers to Maa Bonbibi and her mount Raja Dakshinrai. A night in the forest is enough to teach you that,” says Kanai Mondal, a honey collector from Shaterkona village on Bali Island, South 24 Parganas district.

The legend of Bonbibi that has become folklore here finds elaboration in the novel The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh. The forest goddess was sent from faraway Arabia to the Sunderbans, or Atharo Bhatir Desh (Land of 18 Tides), to save its people from the tyranny of Dakshinrai, the demon king of the jungle who stalked and killed humans in the guise of a tiger. In this land, where 18 tides come together, the mythologies of both Hindus and Muslims have blended to ward off a common threat. Bonbibi’s origins therefore are not the Himalayas or the Ganga. Her story begins in Islam’s second holiest city -- Medina.

Legend has it that a childless Sufi fakir Ibrahim was bestowed with the promise of fatherhood by the Archangel Gabriel. He was blessed with twins -- a daughter (Bonbibi) and a son (Shah Jongli). When they grew up, the Archangel Gabriel appeared before them saying that they had been chosen for a divine mission. Gabriel said they should leave their homeland and go to this part of India to save mankind from Raja Dakshinrai, a wicked Brahmin. They obeyed and started their journey as Sufi traders. Raja Dakshinrai, or the Supreme Lord of the Jungles, had a passion for human flesh. But Bonbibi and her brother quickly overpowered him. They did not kill the demon but made him promise to stop devouring humans.

The fable further tracks the underpinnings of people’s faith in the deity through the eyes of two honey collectors. Dhonai and Monai set out to collect honey wax, accompanied by their young nephew Dukhe. A despondent Dhonai, unable to find any beehives, returns to his boat and falls asleep. Raja Dakshinrai appears to him in a dream and demands the sacrifice of human flesh. He reminds him that they had not done puja to him prior to entering the forest.

Fearing the wrath of the tiger god, Dhonai decides to sacrifice Dukhe. He leaves him in the jungle to be killed and eaten by Dakshinrai. Just as the demon is about to pounce on Dukhe, in the guise of a tiger, Dukhe begins praying to Bonbibi. She appears before him, and saves him.

A bitter fight ensues between Shah Jongli and Dakshinrai, leading to the latter’s defeat. Bonbibi sends Dukhe home on the back of a crocodile and bestows him with enormous wealth. Dukhe then establishes a shrine dedicated to Bonbibi in his village, ushering in the tradition of puja to the forest deity.

“This tradition has deep roots in the principles of conservation,” says Pradeep Vyas, Director, Sunderbans Biosphere Reserve. “Known by many names and forms -- Bonbibi, Bonodurga or Byaghro Devi (tiger deity) -- she is a personification of the forest. The faith of the villagers in worshipping her and Raja Dakshinrai before entering the forest is a reaffirmation of their commitment to forest and tiger conservation.”

“There has been an attitudinal shift in the last 10 years,” Vyas adds. “Today the villagers do not kill a tiger if it strays into their village. They promptly intimate the forest department and our rescue teams rush to the spot to trap/tranquilise the animal and release it back into the forest. Often the tiger may walk back from the human landscape to the forest on its own, and the process is simpler when the animal is not provoked or harassed, compelling it to strike in self-defence.”

In a bid to spread awareness among local people about issues ranging from global warming and eco-tourism to rainwater harvesting and conservation of tiger habitat, the Sunderbans Development Authority periodically organises Bonbibi utsavs (festivals) dedicated to the forest deity. Primarily a state government effort, the objective is to reach out to local villagers and showcase achievements. Subhas Chandra Basu, Member Secretary, Sunderbans Development Authority, explains that free health camps, awareness camps on the right to education, conservation, etc, are organised. The event, which began in 2002, has since been organised on various islands between the months of December and March. It was last organised in 2009, before Cyclone Aila devastated the Sunderbans.

Local artistes perform Bonbibi jatras, or enactments of tales of valour by the forest goddess. Indeed, this has become an art form synonymous with the Sunderbans. “We take pride in bringing before the world our folk culture,” says Parbati Mondal. She plays the lead character of Bonbibi, in a 17-member theatre group from Gosaba Island. “My father-in-law lost his life in a tiger attack,” she says.

The local theatres are imbued with bucolic charm. The characters are loud, flashy and overstated; the performances melodramatic. Yet the climactic point of the plays and their underlying message is loud and clear: If the forest exists, then the tiger lives, and only then can we flourish.

“Call it their rustic tenet of faith or their pride in the age-old traditions, but eventually it is all interwoven with the same basic policy of conservation that we are so vehemently trying to spread,” Basu concludes.

Reference : Amitav Ghosh ( Bon Bibi Legend and 'Ethnic Cleansing' of India's Forests) & Kalpita Dutta (Infochange News & Features) and my personal travels and subsequent discussions with Fishermen, Local communities & Forest Officials. 

Hungry Tides - The White's Silence

I know nothing of this silence except that it lies outside the reach of my intelligence, beyond words - that is why this silence must win, must inevitably defeat me, because it is not a presence at all. 

I look at me.I do not find anything worth a story, other than a deep penetrative murmurs of the shores I have left behind.I see a huge swarm of whiteness, gathering my feet and the soils receding away furthermore...

I know the tides are hungry, now, for a sacrifice! 

(Frazerganj beach, Sunderbans, India.)

Hungry Tides,The Land of 7 Tides - A fisherman's story

"He always thought of the sea as 'la mar' which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman.

Some of the younger fishermen, those who used buoys as floats for their lines and had motorboats, bought when the shark livers had brought much money, spoke of her as 'el mar' which is masculine.

They spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy.

But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them.The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought."

- Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

Hungry Tides - The Last Try...

But in the dark now and no glow showing and no lights and only the wind and the silent harshness of the tide, he felt that perhaps he was already dead.

He put his two hands together and felt the palms. They were not dead and he could bring the pain of life by simply opening and closing them.He leaned his back against the tide and knew he was not dead.

He reached out for his aluminium bowl and was trying to feel the emptiness of the vessel, to remind him the hungry ones waiting in his muddy hut.Today like any other day he cannot go empty hand.

He is praying for the fishes to become good to him. At least, now. The hunger is too unbearable like the darkness and he is hoping to have a last fight with it. The future is uncertain.He is the last one from the folk lores of the land of 7 Tides and a fishermen's village.

The village is slowly vanishing with its people. And so would his family, sooner or later. It's the last ditch for him to hold on to the family and save the folk lores of the seas...

Calcutta Chromosomes - The Legend of Ivanhoe