One Off
Back into my Cocoon
Photo: Star File
People have preference for seasons. Some like it hot and therefore, excel in the season of summer, some winter and quite a number of others, monsoon. To the best of my knowledge, Rabindranath loved summer. My acquired knowledge about Rabindranath's preference was validated by the famous singer and an avid Tagore lover Rezwana Chowdhury Banna. She even asked me to read between the lines of the poet's summer songs to take a closer look at his penchant. I did.
Some people say that this notion of six seasons of Bengal is rather rhetorical. Actually we have the monsoon, summer and a bit of winter. To me, nothing could be further than the truth. I have always been a nature-watcher from my adolescence and it would not be an exaggeration if I say that I can feel the advent of all six seasons. Even the very quick and un-noticeable transition from our autumn to late autumn, from Sharat to Hemanta, is distinctly perceptible. Hemanta is one of my two favourite seasons. The other being monsoon or Borsha. However, this transition from monsoon to autumn, from Sraban to Bhadro can bring distinctly different feelings. You might wonder as to why I have used the word 'feeling' here. This is very personal. I can 'feel' every season as it starts to unfold. Therefore, come Autumn, I venture out to feel the emerging blue sky, fluffy white could, the warmth and of course blossoming of a new bunch of wild flowers unless the Monsoon decides to extend its sojourn.
I was at my village home last week when the receding Monsoon was giving way to bright sunshine in the morning. I naturally felt elated and was thinking about the possibilities of doing a lot of fun-filled stuff. Before I went outdoors I made the mistake of switching on the television and was confronted with the news of a Vice-Chancellor of one of our Universities being held hostage by a few faculty members of the same University. I thought that it was a temporary standoff and therefore decided to check on it with a friend of mine in Dhaka. What he said seemed to have classified this incident as grave and detrimental. These teachers had some issues against the university administration, which the Vice-Chancellor was not willing to pay heed to. Therefore, they decided to imprison him within his office.
I am, generally, not given to depression. But this incident depressed me. A further enquiry revealed that the students of that university had precious little to do with this incident. They were, therefore, subjected to a state of animated suspension. I decided to regret the invitation of nature and stay indoors. This standoff between the teachers and the VC rolled into days until the Minister responsible for education had to intervene to ease the situation.
Anwar Hossain, Vice-Chancellor, JU.Photo: Star File
In the mean time I came back to Dhaka and was greeted by an impromptu stoppage of traffic on the much vaunted VIP road by some factory workers. They wanted the owners of that factory to address their demands. In this action, a few thousand vehicles were held hostage on that road for a few hours. Many of these were stoned or staved to shambles. It depressed me even further. The students of the university that I was talking about and the commuters on the VIP road had precious little to do with these incidents but they were subjected to the worse possible suffering for some people's indiscretion. Such incidents are no more isolated in our motherland. In fact they are rampant. If I have to travel on the road, I am always wary of the fact that my journey may be unnecessarily intimidated. Indeed, I may not be able to arrive at my destination in one piece.
We have learnt to thrive on lawlessness. Wherever there is a law in our country, people take it that it is meant to be broken. Therefore, we see that the footpaths for walkers have been usurped by the motorcycle drivers, people are crossing busy roads by climbing across the road dividers where foot over bridges have been built for the purpose, passenger buses stop right in the middle of the roads to drop and collect passengers etc. Recently the press has reported about a strike called by the truck-drivers because they were asked to weigh their contents before crossing the Bangabandhu Bridge. This was very natural. Because usually a truck meant to carry 5 tons of goods, I am told, quite easily carries 15 tons. Ours is a worst case scenario of anarchy and it is encouraged by the culture of impunity. Anybody could do whatever they wanted and still get away with it.
Our political leaders are busy with their personal chores without the slightest consideration of their constituencies. Our civil society is busy nit-picking the lives of the public figures. They do not care whether the fundamental issues of governance are in order or not.
All these force me to take my eyes and heart away from the seasons of golden sun, autumn mist, torrential monsoon or Spring-time wild flowers. I, in a state of suspended animation, decide to go back into my cocoon.
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