The forest wagtail

It was a stroke of luck that I spotted Forest wagtail, you wouldn’t believe when you see this small bird that it is a migrant from thousands and thousands of kilometers away from Siberia from north china from Assam. How does it fly from such far lands? It is a miracle. And so unassumingly nibbling on forest ground “oh it’s no big deal. We do it all the time”. Really little bird!!. I don’t think so. I think it is quite a big deal to fly thousands of kilometers on those small wings. I found this bird wary but not unduly intimidated by human presence. Back and crown are olive brown, the wings black with two yellow wing bars. Forest wagtail differs from other wagtail in its bizarre habit of swaying its tail from side to side, not wagging it up and down like other wagtails. They feed on insects specifically ants and spiders.

Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976): the rebel poet who sought revolution

One of the greatest Bengali poets who is loved across the borders, a poet, writer, essayist as also composer of thousands of songs (ghazals, collectively known as Nazrul songs, that is immensely popular to this day), and yes he could act and sing too!!. He is the soul of Bangladesh. Nazrul Islam is someone whom the world should know and understand more.

Kazi Nazrul Islam was born in a pious poor Muslim family- his father was an imam of local mosque, he had his early education in this religious surroundings, he later became muezzin. Soon he joined a theatre group and traveled across Bengal with the troupe, composing plays. He later joined army that took him outside Bengal. Finally he settled down to literary activities coming in close contact with other luminaries. Writes Tagore (To Kazi Nazrul Islam)

Come, ye comet,
come to build a bridge of fire across the dark,
Hoist up on the castletop of evil days
Your flag of victory!
Let omens be carved on the forehead
of the night,
Awaken, startle those that drowse,

“Bidrohi” his famous and popular work was published in 1922, his rebellious language adding to the fervor of freedom movement.

Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel

He started bi-weekly magazine “Dhumketu”, and was soon arrested and spent sometime in jail. He also started “Langal” a magazine that was intended to be mouth piece for peasant masses. He used rhetoric as a tool that exuded sincerity and intensity that created a rage among common people against injustice and oppression. Some people have mistaken his “I” to be arrogance but it was meant to represent the suffering humanity, the poorest, giving them sense of self. He was responsive to the contemporary issues, and wrote in the way he felt, it wasn’t contrived. Nazrul was rightly critical of khilafat movement for its religious fundamentalism and hollow ideology. He fought lifelong against religious dogmas and intolerance, and considered them inherently irreligious.

These lines of his I find quite amazing “I can tolerate Hinduism and Muslims but I cannot tolerate the Tikism (Tiki is a tuft of never cut hair kept on the head by certain Hindus to maintain personal Holiness) and beardism. Tiki is not Hinduism. It may be the sign of the pundit. Similarly beard is not Islam, it may be the sign of the mollah. All the hair-pulling have originated from those two tufts of hair. Today’s fighting is also between the Pundit and the Mollah: It is not between the Hindus and the Muslims. No prophet has said, ‘’I have come for Hindus I have come for Muslims I have come for Christians.” They have said, “I have come for the humanity for everyone, like light’’. But the devotees of Krishna says, “Krishna is for Hindus”. The followers of Muhammad says, “Muhammad (Sm) is for the Muslims”. The Disciple of Christ is for Christian”. Krishna-Muhammad-Christ have become national property. This property is the root of all trouble. Men do not quarrel for light but they quarrel over cattles”(emphasis mine)

Later with deaths of his closed ones his poetry turned from theme of rebelliousness to spiritual quest. His songs merge Islamic and Hindu values and philosophies (he effectively merged folk tunes). These amazing lines

Let people of all countries and all times come together. At one great union of humanity. Let them listen to the flute music of one great unity. Should a single person be hurt, all hearts should feel it equally. If one person is insulted; it is a shame to all mankind, an insult to all! Today is the grand uprising of the agony of universal man

Read these few lines from “The Rebel” and tell me if you don’t feel that raw energy

I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!

I am Orpheus'sflute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.

I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!

And these lines from “O nightingale” (translated from Bengali), how charmingly sensitive

In Garden Plot, O Nightingale, do not
rock upon this flower stem today;
For these buds swinging in deep sleep,
Unbroken dozing slumber lay

What an amazing man was Kazi Nazrul Islam, the comet has passed by…those who saw are blessed.