OF ROOTS AND
TREES
APARAJITA
SEN
The Editorial Committee would
like to welcome all of you to share the very first version of Songsoptok
Quarterly. A brief explanation of this change is in order. The monthly version
of our magazine ran for three years – an honorable score for any Webzine. But
the members of the editorial committee are full time professionals as well and
we realized that continuing the monthly format would seriously compromise the
quality of the magazine. Hence the decision to change it to a quarterly. This,
we think, will give us more time to improve the quality of the magazine even
more. We have also made some changes in our editorial policy – Songsoptok will
once again be published both in English and in Bengali. We firmly believe that
this will increase the readership and the quality of our magazine and motivate
a larger number of writers to contribute to our blog.
The theme for the first issue
of Songsoptok is perhaps the reflection of the state of mind of its editors, a
journey back to the roots of this endeavor. Songsoptok started as a blog in two
languages with the objective of creating a permanent bridge between the readers
and contributors in both English and Bengali. At one point it became an
all-English blog. Over the last three years we came to realize that we were
losing touch with an important section of our followers who prefer to write in
their mother tongue. Hence our journey back to the roots. We want to give equal
importance to both the languages. Songsoptok is like no other webzine because
it is not a bilingual blog where everything is translated in another language.
It is a blog that publishes original creations in two languages.
And then I started thinking
about the theme. What exactly are our roots? Are our roots hereditary or
environmental? Are my roots in the country and the culture where I was born or
are they where I actually live? In today’s modern society driven by the need to
move, both literally and figuratively, do we even have roots? If we do have
roots, do we actually want to think about them or want to go back?
We live in a strange world
today. The boundaries of countries are constantly being redefined – in a
constant state of flux due to revolutions, civil wars and external aggression.
Large sections of the population in these countries are displaced across their
borders every day, trying to find a safe haven for their families and children.
Urban-rural migration is spurred by economic disasters within the countries
themselves, uprooting people almost overnight. Religious fanaticism and intolerance
have also contributed to widespread dislocation. All this in addition to those
who have chosen to make their lives in different countries, far from the place
they were actually born in. In such a shifting, dynamic world, can anyone
actually grow roots, leave alone wanting to go back to them?
The concept of roots is often
related to a certain nostalgia for the past, for a life and an environment that
disappear due to different reasons. We hardly think of our roots when we are
young – the challenge and the excitement of the present take up all our energy
and imagination. There are points to be proved, conquests to be made,
territories to acquire and defend. We exalt in constant movement, in new
discoveries and ideas. But just like a tree that spreads its branches to reach
out to the sky while firmly rooted in the ground, I think our hereditary roots
play the same role for some of us. Once the urge for moving ahead becomes less
important, we again feel the pull of our roots. We tend to become nostalgic
then, not necessarily for our religion or culture, but more for our childhood
and young adulthood and everything associated with that. There is nothing wrong
in that. What is wrong, though, is the forceful imposition of values that have
evolved over years and are no longer relevant. By force, if necessary. What is
happening in India today in the name of religion is a case in point.
Some of us are like
transplanted trees, nurtured carefully to take root in a different soil.
Children born or growing up in a different country naturally relate to their
immediate environment. Their roots are and always will be there, whatever their
parents may do to inculcate their own values and beliefs. Children of adoptive
parents often have no idea of their origin till they become adults. I have seen
some of them going back to rediscover their roots in the country they were
born. I have seen others who don’t feel the need. Are they rootless? No. Their
roots are where they grow up.
While writing this editorial
I remembered the poem by Sir Walter Scott – I think it was part of our school
curriculum:
‘Breathes
there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to
himself hath said,
This is my
own, my native land!’
And today I
read another poem by Eric Gamalinda – titled ‘the opposite of nostalgia) and
was struck by these lines that would conclude this editorial:
‘There is a
realm in which
—no, forget
it,
it’s still
too early to make anyone understand.
A man drives
a stake
through his
own heart
and
afterwards the opposite of nostalgia
begins to
make sense: he stops raking the leaves
and the
leaves take over
and again he
has learned
to let go.’
No comments:
Post a Comment