Suvadip Bhattacharjee Writes

Saraswati painted by Raja Ravi Verma, c 1930 Five thousand years back, a large group of horsemen appeared in India. They were a warrior tribe and travelled a long way from the plateau of central Asia. They crossed the Hindu Kush Mountains and the River Sindhu (Indus) to enter the plains of India. The journey continued further south until they settled in a fertile land watered by the mighty river Saraswati and its tributary Drishadwati. The serenity of this green land surrounded by blue water gradually made a big impact on their nature. Many of them gave up their fighter identity and devoted their energy in creation. Some from their group came out as writers who composed beautiful poetic verses dedicated to the gods and goddesses they worshipped. The land where they dwelled in came to be known as the Vedic state of Brahmavarta. They considered the River Saraswati an inspiration to their literary advancements. Like a mother, the river nourished them with food, drinking water and fres...

Her name was the gift of her father. When his eldest daughter was born, the gentleman was ecstatic. The relatives who came to see the newborn heard from him, "My imagination ( Kalpana ) has now obtained a shape ( Roop/ Rup ) in my daughter. She will be known by the name Rupa.” This Rupa is neither a piece of silver, nor a reflection of beauty on flesh and blood, but the poetic expression of a father who was fond of literature. I got to know Mrs Rupa Gupta in the later part of her mortal phase, as a publishing professional. The first informal meeting took place on 2nd January 2018 which was my first day in the office of Amity University Press. I was sitting a bit nervous in the ply-laden conference room when she appeared in a silk saree with a large cup of tea and a wide smile that she used as her trademark. Within a few minutes of speaking with the charming lady, I felt a level of comfort in my voice and posture. She studied in Jadavpur University, and I was in Presidency ‒ this ...

The Bengali narrative of Goddess Durga  significantly   differs from the ancient mythological legend. The second one is of course more popular and more widely taken by the Hindu population that worships Devi Durga during the nine days of Navratri. The ten-handed Goddess is evoked on the days of Navratri to praise her victory over the buffalo-headed demon Mahishasura. It is to be noted that Devi Durga, who is also called  Mahishasura Mardini as slayed  Mahishasura ,  is a female deity, but she symbolises power and authority to the largely patriarchal Hindu society. In spite of that recognition, she accepts a remarkable transformation in the rain drenched soil of Bengal. Here the Warrior Goddess puts off her robe and killer weapons. The village folks of Bengal make her a familiar maiden who is married off at a young age to an old clueless man. This Shiva, the husband who is disdained as a drunkard vagabond, roams in the company of troublemakers ostracised by the s...

Far away from the lap of earth, there is a very old, wrinkly woman living in the moon. Her name is Buri. She is tall and toothless, feeble and beautiful. In the moon there is no water to drink, no air to breathe in, and no food to eat. But the moon woman doesn't bother about that. She neither feels thirst, nor hunger. Do you know what she does all night? She runs a spinning wheel and weaves fine white clouds that spread quickly on the dark sky. When she runs her spinning wheel, it roars, "GRR....GRR....". Those on the earth think it is the sound of clouds. On a cold silvery night, a young bride on the earth stares sadly at the moon. She is very unhappy as she doesn’t have a child of her own. Someone told her that the god of dark sky fulfils one’s sincere wishes. She prays to the moon, “I want a baby girl who will be my own. Can you please grant me a boon?” The old Buri sitting near a crater in the moon hears her prayer. She feels pity for the young woman and wants to help...

There was a huge green python living in the dense corner of a rainforest. Her name was Piri. She used to coil herself to the branch of a hollow Banyan tree. Piri was smart, shiny, and lonely. In the junglee language spoken by other animals Piri meant ‘dangerous’. But Piri was a harmless snake. She never thought of disturbing or attacking anyone. She never spit venom, but she had love for others inside her heart. She wanted to talk to other animals and make them friends, but she couldn’t. All other animals in the forest were frightened by her appearance. They thought Piri would easily gulp them down if they came closer to her. One day a white rabbit was hopping near Piri’s home, the hollow banyan tree. It was looking for good quality hay and grass for breakfast. Piri was hanging from an upper branch of the Banyan tree and enjoying the fresh morning breeze. She noticed the rabbit and called him, “Brother Rabbit, can we be friends? I want to play with you.” The rabbit looked up at the lar...