They for me

The first and foremost difficulty faced while writing about a relative is that, many a time, one has to write about himself too. I don’t like to blow my own trumpet. But if somehow it is blown while talking about someone intimate, you would hardly recognize that yourself. Dipali is like my own sister. My elder uncle’s daughter. Starting from her baby cries, I have seen many tears and smiles of her life till date; and even though Neel Pawan – Suni Pawan are not my blood relatives, they too have always treated me as their own elder brother. I have known Neel since he was studying in school. Therefore I say, it is really difficult not to mention about myself while talking about them. The deserving ones will evaluate how great a painter Neel Pawan is; but even the ones who have met him only for a while can’t stop feeling how big Neel Pawan’s heart and minds are. I remember two nights so well as if they were the last two nights. Oko (Arkendu Barua, Dainik Assam) and Neel showed up one evening. I then used to live at a rented house in Chandmari, Krishnanagar. Neel lived in a small house at a corner of Judge’s Field, where he drew and painted, kept those paintings in and taught drawing. He gathers a few children on Saturdays and Sundays and teaches painting. A silent worshipper was Neel Pawan. Neel Pawan became a popular name, not as the son of Dhwanikobi Binanda Chandra Barua but as Neel Pawan Barua. He bound his father’s poems and rhythms by lines and curves. We called journalist Arkendu Barua as Oko. He was from Tinsukia. Haren, a friend of my brother, was like my own brother too. He sang pretty well. We put him on the stage in public functions. Oko wants simple living. One who doesn’t deviate from the moral path. I like him. I know he likes me too. Both of them came to my home one evening. They said, “Pona da (they called me with my nickname) we’ve come to you today taking a very serious issue.” Naturally, I was a little surprised. Both of them looked very serious. Without further ado, Oko explained to me the serious issue. They said that I should take a decision. I’ll mention later what the serious issue was all about…

I’ve already mentioned that Dipali is like my own sister; daughter of my elder uncle. Out of the 6 sibling brothers our fathers had, one died while we were very young. We knew five of them – Thaneswar Barthakur, Padmanath Barthakur, Biswanath Barthakur, Radhanath Barthakur and Lakshminath Barthakur. Also they had 4 sisters. Dipali is the daughter of Biswanath Barthakur. We are from the bank of Diroi. Our ancestral home is in Mohkhuti of Sibasagar district. The place is called ‘Kokalsiga’. Water level of Diroi gets so low in winter that one can walk across the river. Our grandfather Ratneswar Barthakur established a tea garden by planting tea himself. It was named ‘Thakurbari’. A big garden it was. But he couldn’t keep it and had to sell. Now it is one of the most important tea estates of upper Assam. The name has become ‘Krishnabihari’. Grandfather came to Mohkhuti after selling the tea garden and built a house clearing the jungle. Once works of the movement of ’42 were also conducted from this house. Both our grandfather and uncle Padmanath Barthakur went to jail the same day. Both my uncles Biswanath and Radhanath Barthakur as well as my father Lakshminath Barthakur were music lovers. All of them played harmonium, tabla and violin beautifully. Dipali’s father wrote songs and created music for them as well. They made us, the younger ones, sing. The eldest one, Thaneswar Barthakur, kept himself busy in books. He read everything, from the textbooks of his children and nephews to Einstein. Although he was more inclined towards scientific books. I have never met another man in my life who reads this much. Dipali was the youngest child of uncle-aunt. She had two elder brothers – Bhupen Barthakur and musician-lyricist Bhaben Barthakur and also had three elder sisters – Rebati, Nirmali and Putali. Uncle couldn’t see Dipali as a singer. He died before she could understand music. But she got what uncle wanted her to. Her brothers Bhupen and Bhaben Barthakur as well as our Bupakon dada got it as well. Dipali started singing songs with interest. She sang at home, sang at the times of fun, in someone’s marriage, or sitting on the sands while going to take a bath in Diroi river. We don’t always meet in our main house, i.e. in Mohkhuti. The family of our eldest uncle lives in Mohkhuti. Mother-like, loving and caring eldest aunt was like the main pillar of the house.

I’ve already mentioned – Mohkhuti is a backward place, there was not even a school nearby, let alone a college. Therefore we studied while staying at our fathers’ respective workplaces. Dipali lived in Sibasagar, at her maternal uncle’s place. They belonged to the family of Hemchandra Barooah of Hemkosh. Hemchandra Barooah was Dipali’s great-grandfather and Anundoram Barooah was her grandfather. Sibasagar gave Dipali a platform for singing. Paragdhar Chaliha understood that Dipali’s voice will mesmerize the music lovers of Assam one day. Bhaben gives the music and Dipali sings. Bhaben understands and identifies the music of Assam’s soil. He brought in local flavours to his songs thus giving modern music to the). Dipali’s voice too wants that kind of music. The Guwahati center of All India Radio(AIR) brought Dipali to its studio. At that time one of the principle objectives of AIR was to find new talents, and find they could. “This girl will give All India Radio a new standard”, said Puroshottam Das. NirmalprabhaBordoloi hugged her and said, “I’ll write songs for you. For you.” From Sadia to Dhuburi, every Assamese music lover wanted Dipali. Mohkhuti’sDipali (Dipali from Mokhuti and from the banks of Diroi), became Assam’s Dipali, Dipali of all the people. But… let’s leave it at this. The cruel destiny couldn’t perhaps bear to see her popularity. It’s a bad luck for the whole Assamese community that the talent suddenly stopped. Neural disease stopped her at a very early age. Treatments were undertaken in many places. Assamese people and the then Govt. of Assam too responded for her treatment. Despite everything, Dipali cannot sing today on her own. But even today she hasn’t left the world of music, nor can ever she. It seems like she will get her songs sung by Mamon (Bupaikonda’s daughter Sangita Barthakur). She wants to give her voice to Mamon. Mamon too followed the path her aunt wanted for her. But Dipali is Dipali. She listens to all the Assamese song programs aired by All India Radio. She likes it when she hears a song by a good voice. Talented voices make her happy and excited. She blesses such performers. She hopes that Assam will create newer and newer talents. She sees immense talent in the voices of Tarali and Manajyotsna. She never hesitates to praise a good artist. This big heart is her greatest asset now. It’s been over 3 decades since her voice stopped. But she has no regrets. She has accepted it as her destiny. But she does regret when, in the name of ‘modernism’, the Assamese lyricists and singers want to leave the smell of their own land. How could a tree grow with its roots severed, she wonders.

Neel  wanted to marry Dipali. This was the proposal with which Neel  and Oko came to my house on two evenings of ’75. “Pona da, I want to marry Dipali.” Neel  kept on looking into my face after saying that. I too stared back at them for a moment. Dipali no longer was the singer Dipali by then. She couldn’t even walk well at that time. Couldn’t perhaps even put the paintbrush in Neel ’s hands. How could I say, “Very well, I’ll take the proposal to Bupaikonda.” I said, “Don’t take emotional decisions. After the emotions die down, if you regret your luck saying ‘what have I done’, we’ll be hurt. It will be even worse if she (Dipali) thinks that you’ve pitied her and have done her a favour. Think it once, again. Take permission from your family. We too will have to ask Dipali for her permission.” The next evening Neel  and Oko again came to me and said, “I haven’t changed my decision.” I know Neel  does what he wants to do. He doesn’t care who praises or who mocks him. Neel  finds happiness in doing things that others think they should do but hesitate to do. But he doesn’t even blow his trumpet after doing them. That’s why even a bad situation cannon make Neel  turn back from the path he thinks is right. I know this much about Neel . I also know that the family of respected poet Binanda Chandra Barua is very broad minded. But I always had one fear – will Neel Pawan be able to take responsibilities of a family? Will he even understand the responsibilities? If he makes Dipali his partner, his responsibilities will increase even more. He cannot leave Dipali alone for a moment. I openly expressed myself. Neel  just smiled. Finally Neel  married Dipali – on 7th March, 1976. My father Lakshminath Barthakur did the formalities. At one time, he held my hand and took me towards the photograph of his elder brother (Dipali’s father) and said, “Look at him.” His eyes were moist. Maybe he too was missing his brother badly that day. And that was the day the throat cancer of my father was detected too. Dr. HadiAlam Bora, who is like one of our own family members, informed me about the disease. I sent father to our home in Makum the next day, and Dr. Hadi took him to Assam Medical College from there.

Neel Pawan and Dipali completed 27 years of their married life. Neel Pawan proved that he is not as irresponsible a husband as I feared him to be. Rather, he is attentive to Dipali in every moment. Neel  doesn’t calculate what Dipali has given him. What he could give her, it was his main concern. Neel  has kept his paintbrush in his hand and continued making new creations. At the same time, he also has done what he can for his wife, not as a duty but with care. His road is not smooth, but his steps are firm even in that road. He can’t be deviated from his aim and moral. If someone’s heart is not clean and mind is not wide and open, one cannot smile the way Neel  does, while walking through this tough road. He doesn’t have any regret, any reservatio), and any anger. What will you achieve by crying for something you didn’t get. Instead, pick up what you’ve got – maybe this is what Neel  too tries to convey. Those who have met him will too feel the same.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *