An Intimate History of Bengal

BOOK XIII

                                                           

A rare chance has brought us in contact with an unique document – the Last Will of a leading Historian of Bengal – Professor Probodh Chandra Sen [1897-1986]. AIHB is thankful to his grand-daughter, Professor Bisakha Sen for translating the Will from Bengali as well providing the kind permission to reproduce in AIHB.  Professor Probodh Chandra Sen was one of the luminaries in the World University Tagore conceptualized and brought into existence in Shanti-niketan. In his Bangaleer Ithihaas Sadhana – a seminal volume where he discusses the tradition of Historical Studies of Bengal, he quotes Bankim‘s path-breaking essay on History of Bengal and comes that great question and answer:

Question: Who will write History of Bengal?

Answer:    You will write, I will write. All children of Bengal will write.

And what to write? In a memorable paragraph Bankim listed – the finance, the religion, what they ate, how they transacted their commerce and trade, what were the weapons, the coins they used, their literature, their customs and manners, what they produced, how they defended themselves and in summary – to provide a living, fact-based and engaging commentary.  

It is a matter of greatest pity that Bankim‘s work has found less publicity, we are not aware whether his Essays are translated or not. As the first and perhaps the greatest cultural historian of Bengal, Bankim was educated in an environment which was rich in the matured Enlightenment values of England and Europe. French Revolution and works of Rousseau deeply influenced him. In another essay entitled Samya (Equality), he identified Rousseau‘s almost hypnotic effect as purely coming from his magical potency as a wordsmith (oindrajalik bak-shakthi in original Bengali) but could make Burke less offended by noting that Rousseau  was dealing only with half-truth. 

We will request our readers to read this Will and also note this remarkable sentence while Professor Sen talks about giving a flower, a fruit and a sweet whoever comes to pay respect after his death because, he says – Life is beautiful, Life is fruitful and Life is sweet. In spite of being in close association with Tagore, he did not believe in after-life or some super-natural entity and he records this in his last testament.

The first Indian Resort and a place for intellectual communion – Shantiniketan was a unique invention by one of the greatest of Bengalis ever born. I call it an invention because nothing like this existed in India before. It is something unique and this unique piece of learning and rest at its height of glory and repose neither had that repulsive xenophobia some religious ashrams cultivate or that market-place like cankering certain modern educational institution has brought to pass. It was neither cultivating poverty as a sense of self mortification nor clouding judgment by ostentatious display. It was designed not be dried by the arid wind of celibacy nor decomposed by unbridled indulgence of passion.  As Hindus say that Venares is out of this temporal world and sitting on the trident of Lord Shiva, so Shantiniketan was also a part of Bengal but also outside it by its very design. To maintain this contradictory etherealness, Bengal maintained, in-cooperation with the whole India and world,  a sacrificial fire and as soon as the fuel became less pure and winds of change stronger, the ethereality vanished and we find it today as it is – a very advanced piece of design now in an advanced stage of decay and intestine discord. The chandimantap-culture of the provincial took hold of it and confirming the hidden warning Tagore gave to another luminary of the language and the land – Syed Mujtaba Ali – Be aware of the provincial note and the note of the centre.

I first landed in Shantiniketan, when I was fifteen or so or to be more precise after a decade I first read the rhyme – Amader choto nadi chale anke banke / Boishakh mase tar hatu-jal thake. My mother‘s uncle – Professor Sukhamoy Sastri  was a teacher of Sanskrit there, now dead and was known as gol-pandit in the campus owing to his orange-tinged complexion and rounded face. We all were guests in his Dakshinpally house, where the scholar lived, tended his cows, spoke in Sylheti with all of us.  I think he was already working on his magnum opus – Sanskritashunilane Rabindranath. My Calcutta cousin and me, for both of us, it was first time there and it was a memorable visit. In passing, we had just started experimentation with smoking then and I remember a lazy afternoon, near Khowai we smoked looking at the river and blue-green outline far away.

In an evening, I think late October, he narrated his story of his connection with Shantiniketan, his coming from Sylhet and Tagore comparing his complexion with the famous orange of Sylhet. He talked about those luminaries who have already been in history books quite casually and it was a grand experience. He gave my father the gift of one of his works, rated his best by him – Mahabharater Samaj – an indexed and annotated study on the customs, manners, religion and social conditions during the time of Mahabharata, spanning some seven hundred pages. This was my first direct experience with scholarship and it has forever remained a very humbling experience.

 Me and my cousin were loitering in the Campus and then we saw a house called Anada-dhara and then I remembered – It’s the house of Kanika Bandopadhya. We both entered and found some other people also waiting. They were from HMV, as they told us. We did not come for anything, it was just accidental. So when someone from inside came and asked what is our business, I was at a loss but my cousin, a central Calcutta youth immediately ejected – We have come for bijoya. Fifteen minutes or so past, the apsara-kinnari of Bengal‘s Music appeared, very emaciated, very kind looking and asked us wherefrom we came, where we stayed etc. We both touched her feet and as we made our exit we had little idea that when I would visit the ashram after more than a decade, Ananda-dhara had lost its most illustrious and most-gifted occupant.

I made the second visit in the Ashram after some thirteen years or so and this was memorable one for different reasons. After a misspent youth in Malabar, as a sailor in distant seas, I came home – transferred to Calcutta. Mr. Dipak Shome, my mentor, who has introduced me the art of looking at Life from the glasses of Art, accompanied me in my redoubtable Pyari – an old white maruti-van exported from Kerala bearing the Kerala number-plates. We decided to drive from Calcutta to Shantiniketan and visit Tarapeeth in return.  As we were driving West, Deepak looked at the lush-green Bengal fields as we moved past the suburbs and we both knew it was a pilgrimage. As we were crossing over to Birbhum district from Hoogly, Dipak looked at the roadside and on the wheels, came the first insight to write about the story of this land. The time has now come to reproduce the document which captures the unique moment of a very extra-ordinary scholar, written little before his death and as Milan Kundera says about autonomy of human beings – A dying man can say anything he wishes. The Will below is a living testimony of that autonomy exercised and also proves the autonomy enjoyed by the  author earlier in the domain of ideas.

The Last Will of Professor Prabodh Chandra Sen

Translated by Bisakha Sen.

[The Translated Will is re-produced after Dr. Bisakha Sen has kindly accorded her permission as well providing further input on the historian after introducing us to her mother Dr. Sugata Sen. We are grateful to the two generation of Sen Family for their kindness. Dr. Bisakha Sen can be contacted at Dr. Bisakha Sen and  Dr. Sugata Sen can be contacted at Dr Sugata Sen   ]

(Professor Prabodh Chandra Sen, renowned in scholarly circles as an expert—virtually the pathfinder—in the study of Bengali rhythmic, author of many books on Indian history and on Rabindranath Tagore, first occupant of the Rabindra-Professor chair at Vishwa Bharati, died in his sleep on the morning of September 20, 1986, at the age of eighty nine. A few hours earlier, he had documented his last wishes in what may be called his ‘will’, though it was in no sense a legal document. The original document was published as part of the ‘Prabodh Chandra Sen Centenary Commemorative Volume’, ed. Professor Bhabatosh Datta, on occasion of his birth centenary earlier this year. Given below is a translation of that unique document).

 First Part:

1. After my death, let some earth be smeared on my forehead. And let the song ‘O amar desher maati, tomar pore thekai matha’ (‘O earth of my country, on you I rest my head’) be sung. On the way to the cremation ground, let the song ‘Jhara paata go, aami tomari dole’ (‘Fallen leaves, I am as one of you now’) be sung. And let the songs at the cremation ground be ‘Agune holo agunmoi’ (‘All is now aflame’) and ‘Ore agun aamar bhai’ (‘O fire, my brother, I sing your praises’).
2. Let there be no new clothing put on my corpse. It will be quiet sufficient to clothe it in some used but clean garments of mine. Let no pictures be taken of my corpse, and let no remnants whatsoever, not even ash, be kept after completing the cremation process.
3. Do not perform the conventional ‘mukhagni’. (Translator’s note: ‘Mukhagni’ in Bengali translates literally to ‘setting fire in the mouth’). ‘Mukhagni’ truly means the first ignition of fire, not setting fire to the mouth. The first flames may be applied to the forehead and chest of my corpse. I look upon Debipada as my first born son. Let him be the one to first ignite the fire. If that is not possible, any of my daughters, son-in-laws, or students may perform that task. Afterwards of course, many will participate to complete the process.

(Translator’s note: Debipada Bhattacharya, whom Professor Sen held so dear, was his student and an accomplished academician himself. He was the Head of the Bengali Department at Jadavpur University, and later Vice Chancellor of Rabindra Bharati University. His own commemorative work on Professor Sen, published shortly afterwards in ‘Desh’ magazine, was titled ‘Pita Nohobi’—‘I know Thee as my Father’).

4. I had fervently hoped that instead of burning my corpse, I could have it given to some medical institution, so that my body parts and skeleton could be utilized as needed by patients or students. Unfortunately, I could not arrange for that. If arrangements can be made after my demise, then of course there will be no further need for cremation.

1. If for some reason my death occurs in Calcutta, then all efforts should be made to utilize my corpse for some worthy medical cause. I do not consider destruction by burning to be a ‘good end’ of the corpse. If that should prove to be impossible, then the body should be disposed off using the electric furnace. That will save time, do away with paraphernalia like ‘mukhagni’, and not necessitate the crime of cutting trees and destroying wood.
2. If the body must be cremated by conventional methods, let petrol or kerosene be used without hesitation to expedite the process. That will alleviate in part the sin of destroying wood. Why waste compassion on a dead-body ? It is the living whose welfare must be kept in consideration.
3. After my death, let there be no ceremonies prescribed in scriptures, no rites and rituals, no devotional gatherings or ‘sradha’ (a Hindu religious ceremony, performed 10-12 days after a person’s death). I have enjoyed a long, peaceful and fulfilling life. There is no cause to grieve at my death. Indeed, there is cause for joy.
4. After my death, let there be no prayers said for my soul at the Santiniketan temple or anywhere else, no religious intonations or ‘mantras’, no devotional songs like ‘Tomar asheeme praan-mon loye’ (‘With my heart and soul in thy eternity’). I do not believe in the existence of soul beyond body, nor in a Creator or Ultimate God. What I was in this life, may only that be recalled from different viewpoints and reminisced upon. For though one leaves this world, it takes a while to be obliterated from people’s memories.
5. My children should proceed with their normal lives immediately following my death. There should be no change in their food or daily routines. In other words, they should not follow the scriptural or societal routines of mourning that typically follow the death of a father.
6. Similarly, my wife should follow none of the society prescribed behavioral modes for widows. A husband is not required to follow any rules in term of food or dress following the demise of his wife. It is my fervent wish that my wife follow no such rules either, though it may be better to discard with those symbols that specifically mark a married woman (like sindoor, sankha and loha). There is no need to follow the convention of breaking the sankha, it should simply be taken off and kept aside.

By convention, widows do not wear red-bordered saris. This convention deserves to be ignored. In fact, I hope that she continues to wear red-bordered saris most of the time. I still like it best when she wears saris with very broad red borders. I wish that if for no other reason, she at least remembers this preference of mine and not discard such saris.

She should continue to eat both non-vegetarian and vegetarian food. Only such food as is harmful to health should be avoided. She eats betel leaves on a regular basis, which is not good for her health. Therefore it is my wish that she stops eating betel leaves.

Convention also demands that widows observe specific rules on ‘ekadashi’ and ‘ambubachi’. Such conventions must be summarily rejected.

(Translator’s notes: These are specific days of the month. One rule widows are expected to abide by on these days is a day-long fast).

11. After my death, let there be no ceremonies or fuss on my birth and death anniversaries. Such occasions are celebration-worthy only for those who occupy a permanent place in history. Commemorating such people is the duty of the nation. Celebrating the birth and death anniversaries of those whose memories will be fleeting and forgotten in but a few days is akin to a child’s playing with dolls.

However, as long as my wife lives, I wish that on the day of our wedding anniversary (the 2^nd of Ashaar) every year, she will place a couple of flowers before a picture of mine and wear a red bordered sari herself. If somebody can be found to sing, then in the evening, songs like ‘Bahu juger opaar hote’ (‘From across many ages’) could be sung. If she is ill, or there happen to be other problems, then none of this is necessary. May she only recall that day of the 2^nd. of Ashaar, 1925, in her heart. Of course, I know she will do so even if I don’t write this down. Nevertheless I express on paper one dear wish I have in this life. I hope that it will be pleasing to her. I claim no rights over the future. But what harm can there be in letting this one weakness of mine being known?

Third Part:

(Translator’s note: This clearly seems to be an error in writing, and the author actually meant ‘Second part’).

Man comes to this world at a particular time, to a particular societal environment. And he must build his own life according to his desires and ability within the frameworks of that time and environment. Once the game of life is done, the results of that game and all the equipment are passed on to the future, the future society. He has no claim on that future, he can have no claim. He who is no more-—what claim can he make ?

 Man has no individual identity that is completely isolated from the society. For he is a creature of the society. His evolution occurs as a social entity. Indeed, what is referred to as one’s ‘personality’ is but the specific character he assumes in context of the society. The familial identity that a person assumes at an young age is but a step on the way to acquiring a larger social identity. He finds fulfilment in the acquisition of that social identity. Thus man does not belong solely to his family. He belongs, in a deeper sense, to society. This game of life is a societal game. The equipment with which this is played (what people call property) is eventually acquired from society. And thus, at the end of the game, the equipment must be returned to society. The results of the game may also, by the same logic, be claimed by the greater society. This philosophy I accepted at the beginning of my working life. And the resolutions I made that day remain unchanged to date. Therefore I express the following wishes—

1. After my death, my house in Purbapalli named ‘Ruchira’(inclusive of the land and trees) shall become the property of Vishwa Bharati. My wife, Srimati Ruchira Sen, gives full consent to this.

The house may be broken and re-built as convenient, as long as the name is kept unchanged.

Vishwa Bharati may utilize the house and land as it sees fit for educational and cultural purposes. I only wish that it not be used merely as a residence hall for students or faculty.

If there are no legal or other barriers, then Vishwa Bharati may take legal ownership of the house and land during my life-time. Only the physical ownership must wait till my death

2. I have in my collection a number of books about rhythmics, history, literature etceteras written in Bengali, English, Sanskrit and other languages, which are in a state of disarray. Many of them are otherwise unavailable today. However, due to my physical inability, no inventory has ever been made of these books. This task must be undertaken without delay, and I would like to assign the responsibility to my son-in-law, Dwijadaas.

After my death, this collection of books too will become the property of Vishwa Bharati, barring those that carry special private memories. Some of the books should go to the Rabindra Bhavan library, and the others to Vishwa Bharati’s main library. If possible and if Vishwa Bharati is willing, I would like to see this accomplished before I die. Again, I give the responsibility to Dwijadaas.

( Translator’s note: Dwijadaas Banererjee is employed by Rabindra Bhavan, at Vishwa Bharati).

I want nothing in return for the house, land and books. However, these things undoubtedly have a monetary value. That money could be utilized to fulfill a particular desire of Rabindranath Tagore. He had a long standing regret regarding the lack of academic work done on the history of Bengal. He desired that the Bengali race should be self-aware, should know of their own past. He founded the idea of a series of books written for the specific purpose of mass education, and gave to me the responsibility of composing a history of Bengal which could be included in such a series. Such a task demands long research and full concentration. I started it, but due to various other responsibilities, was unable to maintain focus over time. Hence, a history of Bengal suitable for mass education is yet to be written. I hope that Vishwa Bharati will use the monetary value of the aforementioned house, land and books, add to it from their own funds, and arrange to give an yearly Tagore memorial award for work on Bengal’s history. Then, this wish of Rabindranath’s may finally be fulfilled.

 In truth, I hope that Vishwa Bharati will accept my gift as but a token, and allocate enough funds on their own initiative to arrange for the said award.

 I have no private savings. For a long time now, my children have subsidized my living expenses. There was a time when I had thought that I would add my unearned Rs 11,000 (The Anandabazaar award of Rs 1,000 and the Bankim award of Rs.10,000) to this gift, but those funds were rapidly used up in this financially straitened home. And what I receive yearly as royalty from my books disappears as rapidly as water droplets on the desert sand. Yet I hope that what I give will not be scorned as the gift of a pauper.

 If Vishwa Bharati accepts my suggestion, then the Tagore memorial award could be dispersed of in the following way. Tagore had two wishes regarding Bengal’s history. First, he wanted knowledge of Bengal’s history to be spread even amongst the little educated. History that would touch on Bengal’s political, social, religious and cultural past, and be a good vehicle for mass education. He also knew that recovering Bengal’s history could be a matter of hard assiduous research. He encouraged a number of individuals to undertake that task. I personally experienced that. The system for presenting awards should be devised such that both of Tagore’s wishes can fulfilled as far as possible.

 (Translator’s note: After writing this much, Professor Sen took to his bed. He died a few hours later in his sleep. He had neither signed nor dated the document. His children obeyed his wishes regarding the non-observance of rites and rituals, as did his wife. He had expressed another wish, albeit verbally. That those who came to pay their respects after his death should be given a flower, some fruit, and sweets. For life is fair, life is fruitful and life is sweet. That wish too was complied with.

That invaluable collection of books has since been catalogued and incorporated into the libraries of Rabindra Bhavan and Vishwa Bharati. It was accepted that Srimati Ruchira Sen, who legally inherited the house and land, would leave the same to Vishwa Bharati as she was in full agreement with her husband’s wishes. However, during the last few years of her life she was increasingly afflicted by failing health, eyesight and hearing. At the end, her memory and mental capacities degenerated rapidly. After her death, it was found that she had disposed of the house and land in a manner other than her husband’s wishes. Thus, unfortunately, that one wish of this remarkable scholar has remained unfulfilled).

            It was a coincidence that one of our members diverted my attention to another student of history – Professor AJP Taylor and his controversial work - The Origin of the Second World War. Reading the work was a delight simply because it was so readable and this quality is so pathetically missing in most of the historical works written by our countrymen about our country. During my school-days, I had read the NCERT history books and they are so dry and dreary that only a student condemned to pass an examination can undergo the experience. These books, written under Government sponsorship contained works by otherwise very impeccable historians but my complaint lies in their literary quality. If history has been only objective fact collection, then world would have been poorer. Extremely low literary quality of these books have a long term damage: they fail to excite the grand connections in a young reader‘s mind. In short, these are products of a job, that too a Government one and not of passion. Any person who writes history without passion but for some other material benefit is cursed by the angel of history and scratching of his pen (sareer-e-khama)* instead of becoming the flapping of history‘s angel (nawa-e-sarosh)* becomes the dreary and pen-pushing of a muhuri. It becomes as much as passionate work for the writer as well as for the reader. Scarcity of such works has been one of the omissions of Bengal‘s Renaissance and Professor‘s Will confirms that. In hindsight, for the team of AIHB, discovery of this Will and its content give us an inspiration for  continuing the Project as Professor Sen informs posterity  about one of the  wishes of Tagore - ‘That money could be utilized to fulfil a particular desire of Rabindranath Tagore. He had a long standing regret regarding the lack of academic work done on the history of Bengal. He desired that the Bengali race should be self-aware, should know of their own past. ‘  

            Professor Taylor, in his work dealt with a period significant for this century and quite a touchy issue for British History. In a rare display of calm objectivity as well as in a beautiful narrative style he analyzed the situation and the narrative itself gained a life of its own. His style of narration maintained a calm serenity which illuminated not some hidden truths but achieved something greater – created possibilities to judge the human situation of then, now clear by the bright gaze of now. In short, he connected us, on a human scale of the situation there. We are urged to understand Neville Chamberlain in a different light, we are introduced to a Hitler who is completely different than that of William L Shirer or Trevor-Roper and as he progresses with his narration, we feel grateful for he opened our universe a little from the smoke of the bombs and extermination camp ovens that second world war mostly brings to our mind. What is most amazing is that it seems that writing history is so easy affair to read and write. We could detect the passion underneath, an intellectual honesty that sparkles and elevates the reader a little, making the historical memory a little broader.

            Apart from the history written for the consumption of students, there is another type whose lack of being connected is best summarized by Samuel Johnson [1] – Many of the books which now crowd the world, may be justly suspected to be written for the sake of some invisible order of beings, for surely they are of no use to any of the corporeal inhabitants of the world. This is no mere sarcasm but a very practical observation vindicating some of the greatest names of academic historian. Professor Taylor was an exception. He did for History what Dr. Carl Sagan did for Space Sciences. They brought their subjects close to people, their passion for the subject and deep humanism, which reflects as the attractive literary quality of their works. This inner sense of intimacy with the large human family that nourishes the literary quality of their work.  This BOOK, in some way as it is taking shape to be the  tale of two historians is closed with an excerpt from the historian‘s autobiography written as A Personal History [2]

"I was born without ambition and this made the conventional rewards of life dust and ashes for me or not even that. History has always been my consuming passion: reading history, writing history, lecturing about history. I am afraid I enjoyed teaching history less: something I had to do in order to justify my academic position and of course also to bring in some money. Once I discovered that I could earn money more easily by becoming a journalist I slipped out of teaching history and I can almost say became an historian in my spare time. But I think I remained a good historian: careful about my sources, trying to set down the truth as I saw it. I have never belonged to a school of history, whether Marxism or Les Annales. I am a plain narrative historian and I hope I give the reader plenty of entertainment as well. For me writing history has been Fun on a high academic level. Add television lectures which combined history and entertainment and my enjoyment was complete. I would not have changed my professional life for any other in the world."

* This is from a verse of Mirza Ghalib where he compares the scratching of his pen on his paper as the rustle of flapping of the angle of history‘s wings