At times, I just feel like sitting and listening to Sumaner gaan. And as the tunes flow, I feel as if, all these years, from my childhood to date, is being enacted in front of my eyes.
Suman's songs mean to me, the first realization ever in life, of preference, of choice. I like his voice. I like his music. I simply love the words. I was born past the age of men (and women) who loved poetry. And of course, Tagore's songs were a thing of a far more long lost age. Suman was identity to us, the book fairs that would end with his songs, the walk along a long road, and amidst the traffic, crowd and noise, with the walkman playing his songs, the sheer joy and pride of possession, on buying his new cassette. The moments of discovering myself...and obviously Suman brings back the memories of my lost friendships...my once upon a time best friend, writing to me...tomaar tulona ami khunji na kakhono...bohu byabohar kara kono upomay...
I don't know what has happened to me. I really don't know. Bindhu is a magic girl. I can tell her anything and everything. And she takes it just at face value. Not a penny more or less. But even speaking out my mind doesn't heal the pain.
How will be the next August? Five years back, I experienced the worst kind of torturous hell. And four years back...the most wonderfully blissful heaven. Since then, life has been pretty much the same. Blows that I received, didn't have any long lasting impact. Happiness, if it came at all, didn't care to make a mark. I am tired now. Come what may, I want some extreme. This optimum living is killing me...
Chena dukkho chena sukh...chena chena hasi mukh...
Chena alo...chena andhokaar...
Aah Suman, someone called you a hypocrite, in some comment in you tube. I, who know hypocrisy to its ultimate extent, couldn't pity him enough. Suman, to people like me, you are a savior.
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