Parting shot
Sir — More than 40 years ago, I had to make a momentous choice — to change my Bengali surname to a north Indian one. I was loath to surrender the identity I was justifiably proud of. I wanted everyone to know that I belonged to that elite group known as “Bengali”. Today, living in a Bengal that is taking one regressive step after another, I am not sorry for what I did. I no longer wish to be counted among members of a society that creates Frankensteins, such as the Communist Party of India (Marxist) and the Trinamul Congress, that manipulate an ignorant electorate for petty political gains.
I am ashamed that we continue to tolerate, support, and even encourage, mindless political exploitation which seems to go on for years; that our educated, talented young men and women have to migrate to other cities — Bangalore, Hyderabad, Mumbai and Chennai — or go abroad to earn a better living and prosper; that we consider actors, producers and others from the entertainment world to tell us what to think and do; that we define and measure the country’s prosperity and progress by counting the number of shopping malls and restaurants that have come up in our cities: that Shah Rukh Khan comes down from Mumbai to drum up enthusiasm for Durga Puja and “culture conscious ” Bengalis enjoy themselves dancing to popular Hindi songs in the immersion processions of the goddess.
I am sure that my views will unleash a torrent of protests: we are very good at protesting, and so it should be. But it wouldn’t hurt if we indulge in a bit of introspection and ask ourselves what Bengalis in Bengal have come to signify these days.
Yours faithfully,Iti Misra, Calcutta
No comments:
Post a Comment