For a group of people to become a community, it requires a value system that extends beyond the bounds of love and family. Common interest, a sense of responsibility, religious beliefs, geographical rooting, ethnicity, are some of the basic tenets that bind individuals together. Their collective expression usually takes the form of culture, that showcases a way of life, that is unique, distinct and permeates through each constituent unit as indomitable pride.
The sustenance and celebration of this pride is detrimental to the survival of the whole community. Folklore, festivals, songs, dances, poetry, art and other modes of expression becomes the medium through which this shared pledge is renewed and relived. This is why communities have their own myths, stories and heroes.
The statue of LachitBarphukan, rising from the folds of the mighty Brahmaputra, the hengdangpoised in the air, bodies bent forward in war charge and the fearless resolve of their movement narrate a tale of unmatched valour. Set in the backdrop of the Saraighat bridge and the wide expanse of the restless river, the sight of the statue fills every Assamese with pride and a sense of belonging. History of Assam is full of instances where LachitBarphukan's name has been invoked, for reasons ranging from political compulsions to that of a mystical celebration. The great warrior is without doubt the strongest bond that holds Assam together.
In a few days, November 24 to be precise, Assam will celebrate the four hundredth birth anniversary of LachitBarphukan. The core celebration will take place in New Delhi's Vigyan Bhavan. It is perhaps for the first time that an event of such magnitude has been planned as a tribute to the great warrior. It is imperative that the programme is a grand success. But the impact of the celebration, cannot be judged on the basis of a professionally managed event. Rather what remains of it after everything is over is of utmost importance.
It was in 1999, that a medal in the name of Lachit was instituted in the National Defense Academy. Till then only a minuscule few had heard about him beyond the borders of Assam. He is not in our history books, nor does his name figure alongside the great heroes of this land. The way we remember our past, in a way defines who we really are. If our endeavour was to make a Shivaji of LachitBarphukan, we are painfully behind.
On May 2nd last year, cinematic maestro Satyajit Ray turned hundred. But with the pandemic playing spoilsport, the event was celebrated a year later. It saw an unprecedented outpouring of tribute and festivities both in the physical and the virtual world. Many commented that Ray's birthday can be now added to the long list of Bengal's festivals. Merchandise from cups, diaries to posters, bearing Ray and his creation, flooded the e-commerce web portals.
The heart of Assam beats with Bhupen Hazarika. In a year's time, he too will step into the centenary year of his birth. One can only imagine, the grandeur of the celebration. For Hazarika is more than just a singer or a composer. He is like the Brahmaputra, which eternally floods in the cultural landscape of the state, nurturing boundless fertile thoughts. His persona went beyond the dexterity of his music and is the rallying point for all sections of Assamese.
As the silken cloth slipped off his statue at Dighalipukhuri, Sagar Sangame (I have swum in the confluence of oceans), began to play in the background. Bhupen Hazarika took the microphone, and said, "This statue speaks only one language…the language of humanity". On his death, every nook and corner of Assam saw his statue being erected. No doubt this was an expression of love for him, but in the process aren't we all going against the very essence of the man?
Bhupen Hazarika never got tired of narrating an incident relating to the African American singer and civil rights activist Paul Robeson. He once held up his guitar and asked the audience "Can anyone tell me what is this?", everyone said "It's a guitar" Paul Robson replied,"Wrong…it's an instrument of social change". Bhupen Hazarika's every composition, his every stage performance, was steeped in an intense desire for societal revolution. For him, more than the nuances of his composition it was the message that was important.
It is this aspect of his persona that needs to be celebrated and propagated. Installing statues are fine, but along with it if his songs are written on a plaque and placed nearby it will be easier to get a glimpse of his great mind. The idea is to find ways that would make his work more accessible,or else we are condemning him to become a God and once that happens he would transform into a faraway being, who is to be worshipped but never understood. This is not something Hazarika would want. He longed to live in the hearts, not within the confines of bronze or clay.
The sensibilities of the world now are ripe for a man like Bhupen Hazarika. His art displayed the rare ability to unify elements of sub-nationalism, class consciousness, the challenge of casteboundaries, ethnolinguistic divides and a new political perception with the thread of unbroken humanism. Sometimes he sang of youthful vigour, sometimes he was the harbinger of ethnic harmony and at times a burning voice of protest. His "rule of breaking the rule" adds a new dimension to the philosophical discourse of human existence.
When the debate rages on as to "who is an Assamese?" Bhupen Hazarika tells us what it means to be a world citizen. His expansive vision and nuanced observation, support the formation of identity "from below", rather than "from above". It is about time that the world knows about his fiery protest as expressed in XeetoreXeemeka Rati, his humanism in " ManuheManuhorBabbe", and the power of assimilation in "Mahabahu Brahmaputra". It is not enough to call him Sudhakantha , one has to know to whom he wanted to lend his voice. There is no dearth of heroes in the epic Mahabharata, then why does he invoke the Bura Luit to raise a thousand Bhishmas? This is the message we have to send to the world…If not, we will not only fail him but also ourselves.
By: Emon NC
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