Moira bhyatkaiya roise pachhaye porse jochhona.

"Madan khaborer kagojta khulte khulte mridu heshe bole, mrityur ekta romantic dik ache, tai aajkal majhe majhe bhabi morle kemon hoye?







Kichu hoye na he. Manish matha nare, morar modhye romantic kichu nei. Ekebare mota dager ekta byapar. Amader deshe goba pagla bole ekta lok chilo. Se gaito, monu re, baper khobor rakhla na, hyaye je moira bhyatkaiya roise pachhaye porse jochhona.







Ashlil! ashlil! (Madan)







Motei ashlil noye. Manish matha nare, ekdom ashlil noye. Pachhaye jochhona porar byaparta borong boroi korun. Mora torar kotha holei amar ei gantar kotha mone pore.















Neelu Hajrar hotya rohshyo, Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay.















Monish says "byaparta boroi korun" but i think the picture of moonlight bathing a dead man's bum goes quite a few steps towards romanticizing death. Why ,Shirshendu does that at the very beginning of the novel :















Nirjon ek nodi saradin elochule pa choriye boshe mrityurkorun gan gaye. Charidike nistobdho ek upotyoka, du dhare kalo paharer deyal uthe geche akashe. Ei birole shudhu majhe majke deergho swasher moto hu-hu batash boye jaye. Ajosro shada choto boro nuri pathor onor hoye pore ache. Khub shada, neerob, heem,oshar shob pathorer majhkhan diye nodi - uthsho nei, mohona nei. Saradin ekhane shudhu tar korun gan, mridu bilaper moto. Kichu nei keu nei. Shudhu harer moto shada pathor thake nithor hoye. Upotyoka jure ek mrityur sommohan. Elochule pa choriye boshe nodi obirol gan geye jaye.




"Sommohan" or hypnosis draws Baishampayan towards death. The very words korun, obirol, heem, elochul and above all nodi and neerjon bring the smell of the ultimate lonely and unknown aspect that sometimes or the other knocks at a somewhat fearfully neglected door of each and every person's mind. Monish who says he doesen't think the idea of death to be romantic at all himself cannot avoid mrityuchinta:



Aaj rate jodi more jayi.......... aaj rate tar khoob more jete ichha korche.



The Sommohan is not of death but the thought of death (mrityuchinta). The hypnotic charm thus continues it's work, leading Madan, Manish ,Baishampayan and me to think of that endless chasm, the mysterious woman with her heem nodiness who sings a song.

Ami khoob bhool korechhi. Maratmak, asojhyo aar joghonyo bhool. Nijer ei obimrishyakaritar jonyo nijer gale thash thash kore chor marte ichha korchhe. Kintu kichhu korar nei. Once done cannot be undone. Aamar bichokhonota lop peyechilo, ami churanto arbachinotar kaaj korechhi. Nijeke er jonyo konodin kshama korte parbona.

Dreamwater.

I had a dream last night. I stood on the banks of a river. It was very wide. The water was greyish brown. There were gentle ripples. They were calling me. Then out of nowhere came a man. He was very tall and thin. He was bald, had small grey eyes and a long pointed nose. He had a friendly smile on his face. He told me, "Jao, egiye jao, jolta khub bhalo. Jolta hate niye dekho, gaye makho, jao na." I, at once started moving forward as if i had been waiting for his consent. Strangely ,as soon as i started moving the water slowly started coming forward. It created puddles in hollow places. The puddles grew larger. The waters sprang up vertically, created more and more puddles. At a point of time there was water on both my left and right sides. The space above my head and the space below my feet were enveloped with the greyish-brown sheet within moments. i didn't feel frightened. i felt madly happy! I started slapping my body against the water with a fierce glee. Then i felt an excruciating pain....... a metallic, cold and salty pain. It was very real. I am still feeling it while i type. i wish it would leave me.