Giving“sorrow words”

Bipul Bhattacharya. Photo: Star Archive

RECENTLY, when our amiable and helpful Irish-American neighbours lost their eldest daughter my husband and I wanted to pay them a visit, to offer our sympathies. But a friend advised that we send a hand-written condolence note and some flowers instead -- which we did. My instincts, however, were against this detached and distant form of communication. What I really wanted to do was cook a meal, take it to them personally, and give them a warm hug.
Unfortunately, when you live in a culture that you adopt ... rather than inherit ... you are often compelled to act against your instincts. In Bangladeshi tradition a certain period of time is dedicated to mourning when friends and relatives visit the family to condole. Such visitations are therapeutic for the bereaved, who use these occasions to revisit their emotional connections with the loved one they have lost.
In the West there is rarely any demonstration of emotions apart from a formal funeral ceremony and/or a memorial service. These events are meant to celebrate the life of the person who passed away. As a norm, people are reluctant to mourn in public and want to keep their grief private. The perception seems to be that exercising restraint is an indication of will power and maturity. The logic is clear: why dwell in the past and make matters worse by allowing your pain to take over the present?
This approach may appear rationally sound. But can sorrow be rationalised? I recall vividly when my mother passed away a little over a year ago; it was very difficult for me to cope with her loss without my family near me. Once in a while I did lose my equilibrium in public. I was embarrassed about these outward demonstrations of grief until I realised that there was no shame in expressing pain for the loss of someone who was such an intimate part of my life. The opportunity to ventilate my sorrow with a few friends, and the tearful recall of my mother's memories helped me heal.
Through the process I learnt an important lesson. I consciously decided that whenever my heart overflows with emotion for a departed friend or family member, I would "give sorrow words" rather than keep churning my grief inside. This is why, today, I want to express my sentiments about friend and singer Bipul Bhattacharya who passed away earlier this month. Bipul was a core member of our singing squad Shadhin Bangla Mukti Shangrami Shilpi Shangstha in Kolkata in 1971. During the trying months of the Liberation War our group toured numerous refugee camps in remote parts of West Bengal. Bipul was by far the most popular singer in the squad. When he sang his famous refrain"Bolo bolo bolo shobe, bolore Bangalir joy" in his beautiful tenor voice, the audience would erupt with emotion, singing along with arms raised in excitement and eyes burning with hope. In many ways he kindled the spirit of freedom through his inspiring renditions of "Gono Shangeet"! Like many of us, Bipul also believed that we could sing our way into a free country. It was a belief that we all held close to our hearts -- with the kind of naiveté and fervour that only the young and inspired can possess at a time when history demands great things of them.
Last year my friend Shaheen Samad and I visited an ailing Bipul in his Dhaka apartment. We spent a memorable afternoon singing, reminiscing, while Bipul's wife, Kumkum, treated us to the best shorshe ilish that I have ever tasted. In the midst of the fun and laughter we shed a few tears. Not only for Bipul's failing health, but also for the state of affairs in the country. "What happened to the Bangladesh that we sang for?" we asked.
Today as I remember Bipul and his contribution to Bangladesh's independence, I wonder …What happened to our utopian dream of a "free" and egalitarian country? A country where workers do not die due to the greed of rich factory owners and the callousness of the government, where innocent boys are not hacked to death in the city streets by politically protected goons, where minority worship places are not desecrated by bigots, where millions of landless women are not victimised because of some inexplicable agenda of the establishment. And above all, a country where religion is not used to perpetrate hate and divisiveness!
Perhaps it's time to sing our songs of freedom once again to revive the spirit of muktijudhdho. But we need you, Bipul, for who else can sing the song of victory, "Bangalir Joy", with so much passion and conviction?

The writer is a renowned Rabindra Sangeet Exponent and a former Employee of the World Bank.