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Down Memory Lane

Dol Utsab at Shantiniketan

Shantiniketan has been very close to our member Ms. S. Sen’s heart to as her mother was brought up there under the preaching of Guru Rabindranath Tagore. She shares her memories of Dol utsab celebrated there.
I was brought up in Kolkata, but since my Ma had strings attached to Shantiniketan and had known Rabindranath Thakur, I too was attached to that place. There was a time when I even looked forward to studying there. But ultimately that didn’t happen, yet my attachment to the place remained throughout my life.
Long after my marriage I was keen on visiting Shantiniketan along with my husband. My husband and I reached Howrah station. Our intention was to witness the dol utsab at Shantiniketan. Just before our train reached Bolpur, a group of 𝘉𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘴 arrived and with their songs transformed the atmosphere. It immediately made me feel the serenity and the difference that Shantiniketan creates. It made me feel that I had already reached Bolpur.
I stayed at my student’s house. My student and her husband were very good hosts. By the time we reached the station, they were already there to receive us and take us to Bolpur.
At Shantiniketan people used only abir, pure abir and that too pink and red colours only. All colours there were made out of herbal products. Holi was celebrated in a way that everyone enjoyed, as colours were smeared in a very decent manner. People took permission to put a tika on the forehead. People were never worried that they would be immersed in colour and make to look weird.
I have been always apprehensive about going out in the sun. I chose to stay indoors while telling my hosts to go ahead and enjoy outdoors. Thankfully the Holi utsav was telecast on the local channel. At Shantiniketan In the evening of Dol Purnima a 𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺𝘢 natya is hosted by the students of Biswa Bharati. The performance was amazing. I had never seen such wonderful dance movements. The synchronization of each performers movements was worth watching. Each dancer was swift footed and they seemed to be floating in air as they performed. I always feel that people who receive their training in performing arts from here learn the art to perfection.
Categories
Down Memory Lane

𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗜𝘀

Our member Ms M. Sen has shared an experience which has touched her heart.
Back in 2001 my family and I were visiting Paris. As dusk descended, we started walking along the riverbank. Eventually we got hungry. We spotted a Vietnamese restaurant and decided to have dinner. A charming Vietnamese lady ushered us in with a beaming smile, but she spoke in French, leaving us a bit confused. She then called a young waiter who took us to our table. Although a bit shy, he spoke in an impromptu blend of French and English. My husband asked him his name. He responded in a soft voice: 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘒𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘳. We were intrigued. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮? He hesitated and responded: 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘩. I seized the opportunity and asked him: 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘪? It was as if he had been awakened from a dream. Yes, he replied. In that instant Paris became a global village. It had been ages since Humayun had left Bangladesh and hearing Bengali after such a long time moved him to tears. He helped us select dishes that seemed closer to our Bengali palate. He even took it upon himself to bring us assorted delectable pastries, just to make our experience more memorable. Humayun may have moved away from home, but he hadn’t forgotten his roots.
In 2006, we met Pa-Peter in Bali, Indonesia. He managed the resort 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢. Pa-Peter had left Germany 30 years ago and had settled in Bali after marrying a local girl. After his wife had passed away, he stayed on. He was now 82 and Bali meant everything to him. I asked him: 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦? Pa-Peter looked up to the sky, searching for an answer and responded with a lump in his throat: 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘦. I still wonder: 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘗𝘢-𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦?