by Shamsi Ara Huda
These days we celebrate a very glossy, multihued and extravagant Pahela Baishakh. We arrange everything meticulously and the least mistake makes us terribly upset. We need exclusive saree and panjabi matching jewelry, food, transport, concert everything according to individual choice. And it has no other way to be anything but fulfilling our utmost satisfaction. Although Pahela Baishakh is supposed to be an occasion for all classes of people, still the lower class can’t enjoy it with full relish. However, it is encouraging to note that there are a lot of arrangements like open air concert, Baishakhi mela and so on which can be enjoyed without any cost (if only you can avoid the luxury of buying anything from mela). Dhaka residents never miss the celebration of Pahela Baishakh. Their not leaving Dhaka during the occasion no doubt contributes to more traffic jam but we face it with the true spirit of Baishakh.
Some religious fundamentalists define the celebration of Baishakh as a part of Hinduism with which Islam has no connection at all. But culture is something which cannot be hemmed in any bondage. Culture is the existence of a nation itself on which its own national tradition is established. Those who are continuously active in creating a conflict between religion and culture are in fact behind all sorts of unlawful activities in the name of religion.
When I was a student there was no fear of such extremist elements. The places of Baishakh celebration were also limited. Dhaka University campus, Charukola Institute and Ramna Botomul were the only places for me. But now even with the terror of fundamentalists, Baishakhi programmes take place in a number of places like Rabindra Shorobor, Boshundhara Shopping Mall, different academic institutions, different clubs, different cultural academy premises, different theme parks, different restaurants and so on. The increasing rate of participation is also apparently a manifestation of Bangali’s cultured mentality. For enjoying this day they buy clothes, decorate homes, cook special food and join cultural programmes. Many of them are seen to indulge into a lot of extravagance that they never had before. However, I am not here to preach to people that a penny saved is a penny earned. The question which bothers me is that should we keep the flow of capitalism in the name of promoting Bangali fashion on some special occasions only? Aren’t we playing games with our own cultural self-respect? How many of us think of promoting a local product all through the year? How many of us know the significance of celebrating Pahela Baishakh itself? It seems, to have Panta for one day in 365 days is better than not to have tasted Panta ever. It is good that at least people have the taste of Panta putting on traditional dress for the sake of Baishakh celebration, wouldn’t it be better if they did something for the regular Panta eaters so that they could also have the flavor of enjoying Panta on the first day of Baishakh?
I have no intention to hamper the enjoyment and merrymaking to the least pondering over the significance but I think it is our national duty to notify our new generation that Pahela Baishakh is something to feel with your heart, something to be absorbed and infused in, something to be proud of, something which will give you courage to dream and revolt against all sorts of ugliness. Whenever I hear my students saying that they do not know what is Mongol Shovajatra, or what is the significance of ‘Esho hey Baishakh esho esho’, I just feel dejected. Still I can’t blame them as it is our responsibility to enlighten them about it. It is positive that we are heading for internationalism but at the same time we not only have to protect but also have to promote our own cultural, our own traditional dedication. When I join a Baishakhi Mela with someone from the new generation, I am sorry to say, although I find everything here as like as a super-shop, I miss the tenderness, the profundity, and the hospitality-the very basics on which my Bangali identity hinges.
I would like to end my write-up with an anecdote: the day I first wanted to join Mongol Shovajatra launched by Charukola Institute on Pahela Baishakh, I did not have a white saree with a red border which I was supposed to wear. As my mother was a sincere government service holder, she could not manage time to buy a saree for me. It is tough to express in words how upset I was. Just the day before the big occasion she however managed to fetch a sareewala from whom she bought a saree for me. But unfortunately there was no blouse to wear with it. My heart was broken. I could not sleep. After a lot of trying, I don’t remember when I slept but I do still remember the interruption of my sleep caused by a terrible (?) sound of an old sewing machine with which my mother was sewing my blouse in the middle of the night.
