Poet Nirendranath Chakraborty, the creator of ‘Calcutta’s Jesus’ passed away on the day of Jesus – December 25.
A recipient of Sahitya Akademi award in 1974 for his poem ‘Ulongo Raja (The King is Naked)’, he emerged as one of the leading poetic voices in the 1950s, along with Sunil Gangopadhyay, Sankha Ghosh, Sakti Chattopadhyay, Manindra Ray, Samar Sen and many others, and became one of the stalwarts of Bengali poetry.
An interesting aside – he was also the translator of Tintin to Bengali, the first translation of the popular comics in an Indian language. In doing so, he renamed Snowy “Kuttush”, and the name stuck. He also penned close to 50 children’s books, and a dozen novels. But it is poetry that has earned him a place forever in Bengali literature.
Barely teenagers, we were introduced to his poetry and thinking by one of our iconic teachers. I feel privileged to have been introduced to the poet at that wondrous age – with poems like ‘Kolkatar Jishu (Jesus of Calcutta)’, ‘Ulongo Raja (The King is Naked)’ and ‘Amalkanti (The Sunbeam)’ becoming an integral part of my growing up. So perhaps I can be pardoned, if my mind travels to those diminutive wooden benches of St Lawrence High School when such poetry stirred something in us. Today, those school benches look ridiculously tiny. Perhaps, it is us who are not fit for those benches anymore. Perhaps it is us who have lost the sense of wonderment.
There is an amazing simplicity in Chakraborty’s writing: everything is so familiar, yet its incongruity so stark, the human element so touching.
Re-narrating the familiar tale of the ‘Emperor’s New Clothes‘, ‘Ulongo Raja’ not only made one think anew, but was a lyrical call to action. ‘Kolkatar Jishu’ (a poem about a naked kid crossing a busy intersection, and bringing the city to a halt) questioned the development delusion with its disdain for the human factor. And ‘Amalkanti’ (a poem about a worker who dreamt of being a ray of sunlight, but was forced to slog away in the darkness of a printing press) took on the theme of marginalisation that has become so ingrained in the modern-day polity. Chakraborty’s brilliance was that he dealt with such weighty issues without ever being didactic.
Also read: The Unfinished Poem: Memories of a Child Bride
Chakraborty was a poet of humanity and humaneness, both elements that have gone conspicuously missing from today’s world of decadent capitalism – be it of the liberal, neoliberal or illiberal type. Its disregard for humankind is only matched by that of political leaders all around the world who vie with each other in rejecting everything enlightened. At a time when the authorities try to stifle dissent and criticism; when they create division, diversion and disinformation to prevent independent and progressive thinking, Nirendranth’s poem, ‘The King is Naked’, seems even more a metaphor for today’s world, even more relevant today than when it was first composed. More than ever before, we need that kid to confront the king and shout fearlessly: O King, where are your clothes?
Yes, this world could do with more poets like Nirendranath Chakraborty.
If only to awaken the child in us – fearless, authentic, and forthright.
If only to warn us of an obsession with a development that is deeply anti-human.
If only to give meaning to Amalkanti’s innocent dream – of being a beam of sunlight – so pure and so energising that it tears apart the cloak of darkness, decadence and decay that envelopes the world today.
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‘Ulongo Raja’ by Nirendranath Chakaraborty
সবাই দেখছে যে, রাজা উলঙ্গ, তবুও
সবাই হাততালি দিচ্ছে।
সবাই চেঁচিয়ে বলছে; শাবাশ, শাবাশ!
কারও মনে সংস্কার, কারও ভয়;
কেউ–বা নিজের বুদ্ধি অন্য মানুষের কাছে বন্ধক দিয়েছে;
কেউ–বা পরান্নভোজী, কেউ
কৃপাপ্রার্থী, উমেদার, প্রবঞ্চক;
কেউ ভাবছে, রাজবস্ত্র সত্যিই অতীব সূক্ষ্ম , চোখে
পড়ছে না যদিও, তবু আছে,
অন্তত থাকাটা কিছু অসম্ভব নয়।
গল্পটা সবাই জানে।
কিন্তু সেই গল্পের ভিতরে
শুধুই প্রশস্তিবাক্য–উচ্চারক কিছু
আপাদমস্তক ভিতু, ফন্দিবাজ অথবা নির্বোধ
স্তাবক ছিল না।
একটি শিশুও ছিল।
সত্যবাদী, সরল, সাহসী একটি শিশু।
নেমেছে গল্পের রাজা বাস্তবের প্রকাশ্য রাস্তায়।
আবার হাততালি উঠছে মুহুর্মুহু;
জমে উঠছে
স্তাবকবৃন্দের ভিড়।
কিন্তু সেই শিশুটিকে আমি
ভিড়ের ভিতরে আজ কোথাও দেখছি না।
শিশুটি কোথায় গেল? কেউ কি কোথাও তাকে কোনো
পাহাড়ের গোপন গুহায়
লুকিয়ে রেখেছে?
নাকি সে পাথর–ঘাস–মাটি নিয়ে খেলতে খেলতে
ঘুমিয়ে পড়েছে
কোনো দূর
নির্জন নদীর ধারে, কিংবা কোনো প্রান্তরের গাছের ছায়ায়?
যাও, তাকে যেমন করেই হোক
খুঁজে আনো।
সে এসে একবার এই উলঙ্গ রাজার সামনে
নির্ভয়ে দাঁড়াক।
সে এসে একবার এই হাততালির ঊর্ধ্বে গলা তুলে
জিজ্ঞাসা করুক:
রাজা, তোর কাপড় কোথায়?
Everybody can see that the king is naked
but everybody keeps clapping away.
Everybody shouts: bravo, bravo.
some are trapped in misbeliefs, some in fear
yet others have mortgaged their brains
some are parasites, some deceitful
yet others are hoping to benefit from nepotism
some even think that the regal gown is so ethereal
that it escapes our eyes,
but it’s there alright
why, that’s certainly possible, isn’t it?
The story is quite familiar
but that story didn’t only feature
sycophants and bootlickers
ignoramus and cowards
swindlers and con-men
there was a child there too
yes a child – authentic, honest and daring.
The king is out on the streets again
and people burst into applause
lackeys and toadies flock around him.
But in this crowd of grovellers
the child is nowhere to be found.
Where is the child?
Is he being held hostage
in a secret mountain cave?
Or is it that while playing with
soil and grass and stones
he has fallen asleep
at a river-bank – distant and silent
or perhaps under the shadow of a tree?
Go find him
any which way you can!
Let him confront the king
let him stand fearlessly in front of him
let his voice drown the din of the crowd
and ring out
Hey king, Where are Your Clothes?
(Copyright: Ananda Publishers, Kolkata, 1971)
English translation by Bedabrata Pain
Bedabrata Pain is an ex-NASA scientist and filmmaker. His film Chittagong won a National Award.