Dr. Rashid Askari
Things that Kushtia is famous for must include the Lalon Mazaar (Shrine) at Cheuria. Its attraction grows unsurpassable, especially during the Lalon festivals held twice a year.
Hundreds of thousands of bauls and devotees of Lalon from across and outside of the country flock to his mazaar, and observe the festivals amid day-long and night-long rendering of songs. That does not necessarily mean that the off-festival times are devoid of the rendition of songs. In reality, hardly a day passes when the bauls, either in twos and threes or in larger numbers do not sit round somewhere at the shrine premises, and go on singing and playing music on different local instruments. They feel heartened when visitors listen to them with overwhelming fascination.
I have been almost a regular visitor to the Lalon mazaar since 1990 when I joined the Islamic University as a lecturer in English. After leaving the 'sound and fury' of the capital, I took refuge in the cool lap of a nearly country-town of Kushtia, and I was left with the feeling of being quite literally 'far from the madding crowd'. Although there is little distraction in this small town, I preferred Kushtia primarily because of my fascination for this greatest baul- emperor Fakir Lalon Shah. Oblivious of my social and professional status, I used to go to the mazaar during the festivals, by the man-propelled wooden vehicle locally called van. My van-mates and I would sit on the van, and swing our heads to various rhythms of the songs either sung by the van-puller or floating up from the mazaar as we would approach it. In fact, the whole town assumes a festive mood, and a feeling of joy and merriment among the people becomes evident during the festivals.
There are of course, subtle differences between Lalon songs sung by the genuine bauls of the Akhra (monastery) school, and those sung on stage by the professional singers with orchestra. The differences lie in pronunciation, intonation, articulation and projection of the words and sounds of the song. Playing a one-stringed musical instrument called ektara, the bouls render Lalon songs with spontaneous fluctuations of pitch. The melodies of the songs in tune with the ektara or dotara make us dance with joy. The bauls are musical by nature, and hence their songs make us musical. The beautiful melody and the arcane message of the songs leave us with an ecstatic pleasure. I grab at every opportunity to visit the centra1 p1ace of baul music, and enjoy the amazingly beautiful melodies of Fakir Lalon. I am afraid, I may sound dogmatic chiefly to the connoisseurs of music who may disagree with me over my plain views on baul-songs. Given the art and aesthetics of song-composing and tune-setting, they may sure dwarf my emotion as sheer nonsense.
But I don't care much about it. I know I cannot help it. As one of the teeming masses of Bengali folks, my heart is swayed by the magnificent songs of the Baul-king. The stunningly beautiful lyrics and melodies like barir pashe arshi nagar (the glass-town by the home) or jaat gaelo jaat gaelo bole (saying caste is lost) or pare loye jaao amaey (take me to the shore) have been an eternal source for our spiritual pleasure. Tired and sick of the monotony of the humdrum life, and chagrined in the heartless society, we may sigh with relief, maybe, momentarily, and feel lost in ecstasy if we sit by the shabby and unkempt bauls, and listen to their melodies. We cannot say we are doing trash.
Things that Kushtia is famous for must include the Lalon Mazaar (Shrine) at Cheuria. Its attraction grows unsurpassable, especially during the Lalon festivals held twice a year.
Hundreds of thousands of bauls and devotees of Lalon from across and outside of the country flock to his mazaar, and observe the festivals amid day-long and night-long rendering of songs. That does not necessarily mean that the off-festival times are devoid of the rendition of songs. In reality, hardly a day passes when the bauls, either in twos and threes or in larger numbers do not sit round somewhere at the shrine premises, and go on singing and playing music on different local instruments. They feel heartened when visitors listen to them with overwhelming fascination.
I have been almost a regular visitor to the Lalon mazaar since 1990 when I joined the Islamic University as a lecturer in English. After leaving the 'sound and fury' of the capital, I took refuge in the cool lap of a nearly country-town of Kushtia, and I was left with the feeling of being quite literally 'far from the madding crowd'. Although there is little distraction in this small town, I preferred Kushtia primarily because of my fascination for this greatest baul- emperor Fakir Lalon Shah. Oblivious of my social and professional status, I used to go to the mazaar during the festivals, by the man-propelled wooden vehicle locally called van. My van-mates and I would sit on the van, and swing our heads to various rhythms of the songs either sung by the van-puller or floating up from the mazaar as we would approach it. In fact, the whole town assumes a festive mood, and a feeling of joy and merriment among the people becomes evident during the festivals.
There are of course, subtle differences between Lalon songs sung by the genuine bauls of the Akhra (monastery) school, and those sung on stage by the professional singers with orchestra. The differences lie in pronunciation, intonation, articulation and projection of the words and sounds of the song. Playing a one-stringed musical instrument called ektara, the bouls render Lalon songs with spontaneous fluctuations of pitch. The melodies of the songs in tune with the ektara or dotara make us dance with joy. The bauls are musical by nature, and hence their songs make us musical. The beautiful melody and the arcane message of the songs leave us with an ecstatic pleasure. I grab at every opportunity to visit the centra1 p1ace of baul music, and enjoy the amazingly beautiful melodies of Fakir Lalon. I am afraid, I may sound dogmatic chiefly to the connoisseurs of music who may disagree with me over my plain views on baul-songs. Given the art and aesthetics of song-composing and tune-setting, they may sure dwarf my emotion as sheer nonsense.
But I don't care much about it. I know I cannot help it. As one of the teeming masses of Bengali folks, my heart is swayed by the magnificent songs of the Baul-king. The stunningly beautiful lyrics and melodies like barir pashe arshi nagar (the glass-town by the home) or jaat gaelo jaat gaelo bole (saying caste is lost) or pare loye jaao amaey (take me to the shore) have been an eternal source for our spiritual pleasure. Tired and sick of the monotony of the humdrum life, and chagrined in the heartless society, we may sigh with relief, maybe, momentarily, and feel lost in ecstasy if we sit by the shabby and unkempt bauls, and listen to their melodies. We cannot say we are doing trash.
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