Death
is very natural. Immortality is literally absurdity. It is an axiomatic truth.
None can deny this inevitability. Yet few of the deaths are not acceptable to
us because they are the contributors to the society which is on the verge of
total decadence. They are the continuous source of fresh thinking and ideas in
striking contrast to the decomposing thinking dragging the society to the point
of no return zone of absolute despicableness. They are averse to
self-canvassing. They don’t have any demand to the society or to the life. They
are silent worker. They always work silently for the well being of all
especially for the havenots. They seek neither anything in return nor are they
interested in recognition even a bit. They hardly tax their brain in question
of identity. They always want to remain in a very low profile. They are
reluctant to reconcile the balance-sheet of their life. They want to exit this
living world unwept and unnoticed. Thus they want to be glorified in the rear
stall of life.
“BULUDA”
(actual name withheld) is no more. Sometimes a moment appears in the walk of
life when we want to remain speechless. That moment is full of pathos,
heartrending and very much painful too. In the suddenness of the incident we
are struck with endless grief and shock. We are absolutely mute at the
bereavement of our kin. To pay tribute and love in endless silence and
showering tears is perhaps the best way. Yet time and situation demand to say
something in commemoration to his life, failing which we will be guilty
conscious for the rest of our life. He was the man very much down to earth. We
want to recollect his memory standing on the road. General mass did never see
him on the stage. So such a decision is.
Long
25 years is not a matter of joke. That very deep connection for a silver
jubilee period is disconnected now. In every tug of war of life he stood by us
like a pivot. There is no room for frustration in his life. He used to say that
frustration is the ornament of those who do not want to struggle in life in
continuity. A life full of struggle in series dreams to exist in this world
with full vivacity and liveliness. He was the nucleus of our thinking and
consciousness. He was the shadow companion of ours in joy and sorrow, love and
languishment, sentiment and passion. He was the burning flame in our heart
without any allowance to be upset facing a crisis.
He
was a personality of amiable disposition. We did never see him busy in
self-canvassing. In question of principle he was uncompromising. He hardly
hesitated to go for vehement criticism at the sight of any injustice and
illegality. This does not mean that he was merciless. He had very soft corner
in his heart. Apparently he was hard nut to crack, but he used to weep
unsighted at the plight of others. He was the brightest icon of burning human
and moral values. He could have led a calm and undisturbed life with all
easiness. But under the attraction of what philosophy he came down on the road
to fight for the working class force and havenots. Ever reliable and ever
trusted BULUDA was always
a beloved comrade to the toiling mass. If we remain mute and show passiveness
to his contribution it will be a crime.
Today’s
world is grossly decaying out of the attack of commodity concept world. The
society of today is the victim of bottomless decadence. There reigns a deep
darkness in unlimited sunlight. Most of us are bit confused subject to
determine our way of thinking. But BULUDA was
as if the LIVING STATUE of FIRMNESS in
the burning deck of the society. He was alive with all his soft feelings and
noble instincts. He didn’t allow his brain to decompose. He used to say,” if
brain gets decomposed nothing is left to glorify our life. Keep your brain not
be contaminated with evil and trash thinking. Take the necessary safeguard.” We
understood how far he was vigilant in every of our movement. Avoiding the dreadful
grip of decaying society he jumped in to the rolling waves of turbulent society
for rendering best services for the well being of all, especially those who are
downtrodden.
He
was all along a lion heart personality in ultimate excellence. We don’t find
the requisite opportunity to go for the hair-splitting analysis of his social
and political activities. The reason is very simple. He always wanted to be
captivated in the oyster shell. He often said,” Your work is your identity. If
you can establish your identity in the parlour of common mass there stands no
need to display your identity.” There was nothing excess in his life. He was
the true canvasser of need base want. He did never indulge meanness and
narrowness in his life. He tried all along to remain alive holding the truth
carefully with an intricate bonding and he never compromised in this context
under the attraction of any allurement. BULUDA was
the living embodiment of truth and love. He was a confirmed bachelor. But he
was not at all a bohemian. He was always absorbed in deep thinking how to
translate the dreams of others in reality. He was the true architect of dream
converter into reality.
The
earth is now covered in deep darkness. Those who are blind are the vision
makers with perfect focusing. The earth is static of their counseling who don’t
have any love in their heart. They are in full command to dominate this
loveless world. A frank mind look endorses that this world is thickly congested
with selfish and self-seeking people. Buluda was
the standing exception in the unending rally of greed and lust. He used to hate
them who always discuss of their self- benefit. When the air and sky of India
is filled with foul odour of charred flesh he did never search for famine. He
wanted to move with all irrespective of cast or creed till he breathed last.
His mind was always liberal and responding to feelings. He was the dedicated
worshiper of collective interest. At the last visit he unveiled himself
saying,” I have got enough in this life. I can’t think of such endless love from all
corners. I don’t have any demand to my life. Now it is better to go.” When
insatiateness is the only disease of the society buluda passed away silently paying of all the debts to
the society. This death is a mark of glory.
Shakti Chottopadyay, the living legend poet, has composed,”JETE PARI,
KINTU KANO JABO. (I can go, but why should I). Let the line be transformed in
this way. “JETE DITE HAI, TABU KANO JETE DITE HAI.” (We are to accept the
permanent departure, but why?” He tried to be a part of the history after
assuring the world habitable for the new comers. This society is not habitable
for the Kolkatan Jishues (JESUS OF KOLKATA}. Red signals are found almost all
the roads. The premature death of buluda is
an irrepairable loss to us. He finished his journey of life only at 63 years.
But he is still alive among all of us as a bright exceptional soul. Despite we
don’t have any language to pay the last tribute he is our burning pride with
all his versatility.
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