We are having an unusually cold winter this time round after several years. Last night, the weather app said the celsius had sunk to 8 degrees, but it felt definitely colder. Anyway, I love the winter less than before, because my bones ache, and the horrible pollution keeps giving me coughs and colds.
So, alas, I am writing the last post of the year on a rather bitter note, especially because, though by nature strongly against extreme views of any kind, I am getting politically angry against the ruling dispensation after a long, long time. Maybe I shall grow vocal in the coming year.
Let there be a just peace on earth, and may God deliver His judgment on those who believe, and tell others to believe, in hating other human beings on the basis of race, religion, language, colour, gender, nationality and so on. That breed is proliferating everywhere, and all history stands testimony that it bodes ill for all of us, except perhaps the very rich and the very powerful. As the poet asked, tumi ki taader kshoma koriyachho, tumi ki besechho bhalo (have you forgiven them and loved them)?
One good thing I just did and which makes me happy is putting in this link to the blog of a dear young man, Aditya Mishra, friend of Swarnava, and one of those increasingly few who have things to write about and can write.
4 comments:
Dear Sir,
This gives the same amount of joy, if not more, that I felt when my first paper got cited for the first time.
The conversation yesterday was the best way to end the year for me. Thank you for the much needed encouragement and giving me the push to continue writing and sharing.
I hope your readers would enjoy it too.
Wishing you a very Happy New Year once again!
Best,
Aditya Mishra
Thank you for sharing this, Sir. I was sorry to read how the cold—both the literal kind and the moral one—seems to be weighing on you. The aching bones, the coughs, the polluted air… they make even a mild winter feel much harsher, and they seem to mirror the unease you describe so honestly.
We ended the year here nursing fever and stubborn colds too, but we are finally on the mend. It even snowed a little today, softening everything for a while, as if the world were briefly holding its breath. I find myself wishing, like you, not for a noisy or triumphant peace, but for a just one—the kind that does not ask people to forgive cruelty before it has been named.
Your lines about hatred being cultivated in so many places rang painfully true. History does keep repeating that lesson, and yet we seem forever tempted to ignore it. Still, I was glad you ended by pointing us toward a young writer with something to say. That gesture itself feels like a quiet act of faith in the future.
As for me, this year I have only the small consolations of daily routine to look forward to, but perhaps that too has its own quiet solace. Wishing you and your family health, steadiness, and a gentler year ahead. Happy New Year, Sir!
Postscript: I read 'Shattered Lands' by William Dalrymple's son, Sam Dalrymple. It has received good reviews but I am keen to hear your views about the book whenever you read it. Take care.
Thanks for the comment, Rajdeep. Best New Year wishes to you and yours. And yes, I must get my hands on the junior Dalrymple's book.
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