31st July, 2013
Mother and father went out for a while this evening, brother was in tuition. Me, finding nothing yet to do, decided to read 'Ribhur Srabon' by Buddhadeb Guha. A small book in bangla, hardly 70-80 pages, nothing "intellectual". A story about a little boy.
It had stopped raining moments ago, now only the drizzle and fragrance remained.The wet fragrance of cement and asphalt and rain drops.Ironic! Srabon in bangla means rain. Although the book's backdrop is a Bengal village in monsoon, nonetheless,city rain was doing just fine.
While reading this book,i came across a paragraph.This particular para was said by the secondary protagonist,an eccentric village girl named Bulbuli.Eccentric and poor. Ribhu,who is the primary protagonist asked her what she wants as gift on her marriage. She answered-
"On the day of my marriage,if you can,fold this monsoon sky;scent the sky with fresh torn leaves of a lemon tree and pomelo tree and send me that sky..If you can,send me some sunshine,the sunshine after a thunderstorm,a sunshine that makes gold pure,the sunshine,where dragonflies dance.Will you do this for me?" Ribhu answers,bewildered, yet answers, ‘YES’!
Bulbuli continues, ‘Bring me the snakes made of light which plays with us when we swim underwater. I will keep them as pets,they will keep the darkness away. Darkness is very painful Ribhu!!’
Ribhu answers- ‘you really don’t want anything ..nothing for real.’ Bulbuli says-‘stupid Ribhu, who would marry a mad,witch like me? These gifts are for the marriage in my dreams..dreams which will not be real!!’
After this,the story continues a little and ends disruptively. We will never know if Bulbuli was married. We will never know if Ribhu gave her what she asked. The story finishes where it actually starts.
For almost 20 minutes, my mind was blank,only playing the lines what Bulbuli said. Her unsaid wants,untold desires seemed bizarre! Monsoon sky? Sunshine? What kind of person actually wants these? A babble of crazy.. then I realized, don’t we all have a same desire? When it rains or a flower blooms,don’t we all wish something strange? To have a sky of our own? A sky of happiness? Somewhere, however deep it maybe,there are some stories,some lines left unsaid. The pure emotions of desires and wishes which we hardly let out for we fear to be laughed on or getting rejected.. the cloud forms,it gets dark,but it never rains,and our dreams are strangled to death..Bulbuli was labeled deranged. But perhaps for me, for Ribhu and for them who have a slightest iota of emotions, she had a perfect sense..maybe her desires and dreams seemed bizarre,a mock to those who were normal, but sometimes,bizarre things has all the answers.
A knock on the door..mom & dad returned,the drizzling has stopped.The petrichor is fading away…
Ribhu has left a share of his Srabon for me..Did I heard Bulbuli laughing??
Mother and father went out for a while this evening, brother was in tuition. Me, finding nothing yet to do, decided to read 'Ribhur Srabon' by Buddhadeb Guha. A small book in bangla, hardly 70-80 pages, nothing "intellectual". A story about a little boy.
It had stopped raining moments ago, now only the drizzle and fragrance remained.The wet fragrance of cement and asphalt and rain drops.Ironic! Srabon in bangla means rain. Although the book's backdrop is a Bengal village in monsoon, nonetheless,city rain was doing just fine.
While reading this book,i came across a paragraph.This particular para was said by the secondary protagonist,an eccentric village girl named Bulbuli.Eccentric and poor. Ribhu,who is the primary protagonist asked her what she wants as gift on her marriage. She answered-
"On the day of my marriage,if you can,fold this monsoon sky;scent the sky with fresh torn leaves of a lemon tree and pomelo tree and send me that sky..If you can,send me some sunshine,the sunshine after a thunderstorm,a sunshine that makes gold pure,the sunshine,where dragonflies dance.Will you do this for me?" Ribhu answers,bewildered, yet answers, ‘YES’!
Bulbuli continues, ‘Bring me the snakes made of light which plays with us when we swim underwater. I will keep them as pets,they will keep the darkness away. Darkness is very painful Ribhu!!’
Ribhu answers- ‘you really don’t want anything ..nothing for real.’ Bulbuli says-‘stupid Ribhu, who would marry a mad,witch like me? These gifts are for the marriage in my dreams..dreams which will not be real!!’
After this,the story continues a little and ends disruptively. We will never know if Bulbuli was married. We will never know if Ribhu gave her what she asked. The story finishes where it actually starts.
For almost 20 minutes, my mind was blank,only playing the lines what Bulbuli said. Her unsaid wants,untold desires seemed bizarre! Monsoon sky? Sunshine? What kind of person actually wants these? A babble of crazy.. then I realized, don’t we all have a same desire? When it rains or a flower blooms,don’t we all wish something strange? To have a sky of our own? A sky of happiness? Somewhere, however deep it maybe,there are some stories,some lines left unsaid. The pure emotions of desires and wishes which we hardly let out for we fear to be laughed on or getting rejected.. the cloud forms,it gets dark,but it never rains,and our dreams are strangled to death..Bulbuli was labeled deranged. But perhaps for me, for Ribhu and for them who have a slightest iota of emotions, she had a perfect sense..maybe her desires and dreams seemed bizarre,a mock to those who were normal, but sometimes,bizarre things has all the answers.
A knock on the door..mom & dad returned,the drizzling has stopped.The petrichor is fading away…
Ribhu has left a share of his Srabon for me..Did I heard Bulbuli laughing??
