Esho hey Baishakh

Later, this concept of the Bengali year quickly spread throughout the Mughal Empire, particularly in the rural areas of Bengal. A special significance was also attached to this computation of the year. It acquired an agricultural connotation. The beginning of the year at the end of the Bengali month Chaitra, was also by royal decree, made the starting point in the time frame for collecting taxes from farmers. Bengali peasants also used Baishakh as the month to start their next cultivation and fields were generally ploughed during the period mid-April to mid-May. This coincided with the arrival of rain after the relatively dry months of December to end of March.

Baishakh is a month I have always greatly enjoyed. It is a period of the year, which heralds the arrival of summer, of severe dust storms, dark skies in the northwest and violent nor-westers. I have always admired this period as a symbol of re-awakening.

It is as if Nature takes her broom and cleans all dirt and filth out of her environment. One feels the change in the air. There is heat, hot and humid conditions, fierce storms, rain and then freshness all around us. Rabindranath Tagore was quite right when he wrote-

“Come, come, O Baishakh, come!
With your severe hot breath
blow away all that is frail”.

The first of Baishakh (Pahela Baishakh) has now evolved its own cultural connotations. On that date, businessmen, particularly in the rural areas, and most importantly within the Hindu community, open a special ledger book bound in red cloth for maintaining accounts. The whole process is called initiating the 'hal khata'. The customers on that day are treated to sweets and families in general exchange traditional food items.

This first day of the Bengali Year is also associated with 'melas' (fairs), filled with local agricultural products, handicrafts, masks made with papier-mache, kites, preserves, achars (pickles), balloons of all kinds, and rides of all descriptions. Observing this day becomes a festival for the children.

A survey carried out recently indicated that nearly two hundred fairs are organised throughout Bangladesh on this occasion, either on the first day of Baishakh or in its first week. This in its own way, has a huge impact on the grassroots economy. In addition, in many urban centres, including the city of Dhaka, the holding of book fairs and the exchange of books, particularly books of poetry as gifts, mark the day. This reflects the sentimental aspect of the Bangalee psyche. In the last few years, younger people, particularly students, have also initiated the vogue of exchanging greeting cards, gifts, flowers and sweets. What a lovely way to start the year!

In recent times, there has also been the revival of fun-parades, more on the lines of what is normally done in cases of carnivals abroad. This parade is normally organised by students of the Institute of Fine Arts of the Dhaka University and representatives of different cultural bodies. Large papier-mache masks and figures are created in vibrant colours along with representations of birds and animals. Professor M. Mamoon has described the ambience very well -- "The parade is led by the mask-wearing participants while thousands of people, some carrying small children on their shoulders, join in. Most women put on red and white sarees, which have become a kind of New Year symbol, and wear garlands of flowers. Many have their faces painted. Men wear panjabis or kurtas which also has become a universal New Year dress for men. The parade progresses to the beating of drums and cymbals. People also sing and dance."

The advent of Baishakh is also celebrated through varied functions in different regions. Chittagong has become famous for its Bali khela, an indigenous form of wrestling competition. It is strange that this form of sport should take place in that region, so far from its regular habitat in the western provinces of India. Rajshahi celebrates Baishakh with Gambhira, a special form of folk poetic drama. Bullock races mark the occasion in Munshiganj of Dhaka district.

For me, the gradual evolution of Pahela Baishakh as a national institution has been the liberation of my soul as a Bangalee. I still remember the great caution with which we undertook cultural programmes in the early 1960s. Any university student desiring to participate in an evening of Rabindra Sangeet or wanting to commemorate the Bangla New Year was immediately fodder for the misguided intelligence authorities that saw in such events the influence of India, subversion and the destruction of Pakistani values and ideals. However such restrictions also had its brand of sick humour. The most favourite joke referred to the then Pakistani President Ayub Khan rebuking his loyal Governor Monem Khan in East Pakistan (Bangladesh) and asking him why he was unable to write or produce Rabindra Sangeet.

Consequently, it was seen as a great sign of courage, when Chhayanaut, a cultural body composed of some progressive intellectuals and lovers of art and music, decided to organise a programme of Rabindra Sangeet on the first of Baishakh in the Ramna Park in Dhaka. This bold step in more ways than one, was the second success in the struggle to establish our cultural identity as a Bangalee nation. Subsequently, it became the focal point in Dhaka's cultural calendar. Those associated with the event, became icons, and celebrating the Bengali New Year evolved into an expression of indirect protest against the ideology of exploitation that identified the ruling Pakistani administration and what it stood for.

With the emergence of Bangladesh came official recognition of Pahela Baishakh which was declared a public holiday. This transformed the secular event into a national festival.

Baishakh conjures up for me many things. It is not only music or songs. It also encapsulates the glorious world of cuisine, of sherbets, of fruits, of spices and colours. Pahela Baishakh in my imagination is the magic of different kinds of 'bhartas', 'bhajis, several kinds of 'dal' and 'shobjis', yogurt and sweets and 'kasundi'. Baishakh opens the door for Joishtya, and prepares us for the feast of fruits -- leechies, mangoes, guavas, 'kalojam', 'jamrul' and jackfruit. Baishakh for me is also continuation of what started in Falgun and Chaitra. It is a period when most people touch the colour palette and cover themselves with radiant reds, oranges, canary yellow, burgundy, emerald, parrot green, mystic blue and pristine white. Earth tones also surface in block prints and in the use of embroidery in clothes. Baishakh in more ways than one becomes a metaphor for rejuvenation and rebirth.

There are no political overtones in the celebration of Baishakh except in the minds of some sick individuals, who because of their twisted understanding of religion, frown on the gaiety and spirit associated with this date.

I have dedicated this column to Baishakh because the eternal child in me believes in fairy tales, in the power of good over evil. Every time Baishakh comes around, it reminds me of the Bangalee ethos and the unity we displayed during the dark days of 1971.

Let us, in the beginning of this New Year, promise to embark on the path of constructive engagement in the political process. Let us try to share happiness and help our neighbour. It might sound naive but it would be worthwhile to seriously consider the dictates of Nelson Mandela. That great man, in his quest for understanding, did not hesitate to follow the path of justice and reconciliation. Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman also did the same. He forgave those who had opposed the emergence of Bangladesh and sought their rehabilitation within the unified matrix of our beloved country. Let us similarly, in the eventful and crucial year ahead, try to come together and find least common denominators. Let us overcome our greed for achieving power without consideration of its possible effect on the people at large.

Muhammad Zamir is a former Secretary and Ambassador who can be reached at mzamir@dhaka.net.