Probashi Bangali by Arup Ganguly & Sumit Mazumdar

Lost to myself as I walk by
A question dawned upon me, who am I?
Shahana tells me though a Bengali Probashi you are
I know that is a definite part of me
Feel connected to all that is bengali, near and far
With all the hilsas and chingris that we devour
Durga Puja, Poush Mela, Kali Puja, Poila Boisakh
I couldn't have probably asked for more
With a barren piece of rocky land
Broken with loud sounds of dynamite
To give shape to what we call C.R. park
With no traces of Arravalli ranges at sight
My father chose this place to make his permanent home
With blessings of Goddess Kali at Shiv Mandir
Safely ensconced under the terracotta temple dome
The songs, the dramas, the books in the libraries
Notwithstanding the busy city life
Finding time for these luxuries
Luxury..is it or is it the DNA
The existential compulsion that has defined my life to this day

And what about tomorrow, you ask?
I know it’s a tall task
To say what the winds of change
Will bring forth, where the cultural exchange
Will lead my probashi bengaliness to, which ground yet unchartered
Which transaction hitherto un-bartered
Will deal to evolve a sweeter word for the tongue to utter,
A fairer note for the ear to hear!
But I see a tomb stone for sure,
With words engraved deep and pure!
Here lived the Bengalee Probashi
Though eluded him his share of shabashee
He did the impossible like growing mango
In desert, like doing a tango
With the the devil in presence of the gods
Like keeping a flickering candle flame alit against all odds
And breathing and living the Bengali emotions
Here at CR park, here in Delhi amidst the commotions!

Poem: Arup Ganguly & Sumit Mazumdar
Artwork: Arup Ganguly