Every river has its own story, its own voice.
My forefathers came from the delta of the Ganges in Bengal. Perhaps the call of the tides, the marshes, the wide muddy brown silt rich rivers and the boatmen singing a Bhatiali song is embedded in my soul.
Barisal.
The name is etched in my soul.
Where the the great ancient rivers- the Padma and the Jamuna, daughters of the Ganga and the Brahmaputra, flow into the Bay of Bengal.
This region and its principal city by the same name, has been the host of many intellectuals, politicians, social reformers, educationists alongside the farmers, traders, merchants, and, of course, the sailors. I am grateful to be a daughter of this place.
The rivers are life. The rivers are death.
Man lives in a constant balance with these rivers, as in other parts of the world. And sometimes the river provides a metaphor for every detail of their lives, as well as an unique genre of music- the Bhatiali. The name is a derivative of the ebb and flow of a river- 'Jo'ar Bhata'.
Here is incomparable Runa Laila singing one of the Bangla poet Jasimuddin's popular compositions, sung in the Bhatiali manner. Though a somewhat stylized composition this, Runa's rendition is true to the spirit of the song.
'Amaay dubaili re, Amaay bhashaili re..'
'You have set me adrift into the water to sink
The wide water has no shore for me to reach safety'
'Okul doriya', the river, as wide as the sea, seems to have no shores for a safe berth. Life itself.
And now, a song of the boatmen- the Majhi, sung by the Bangla Band Dohar. Obviously a working song, designed to enable the boatmen to row in unison against a giant muscular river. Especially with the refrains of 'Hai Hassan! Hai Hussain!'. Feel the chop of the oars as they cut into the water and then push the unwilling water back, to advance the boat
The accompanying instrument is a dotara, a traditional stringed instrument that can both provide the rhythm as well as tonal support.
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And so flow the waters of all the great rivers of the world into every sea and ocean eventually.
'The ocean refuses no river'
Here is Enya, singing of the Orinoco Flow.
Let me sail, let me sail, let the Orinoco flow,
Let me reach, let me beach on the shores of Tripoli.
Let me sail, let me sail, let me crash upon your shore,
Let me reach, let me beach far beyond the yellow sea.
Sail away, sail away, sail away. (x3)
From Bissau to Palau - in the shade of Avalon,
From Fiji toTiree and the isles of ebony,
From Peru to Cebu hear the power of Babylon,
From Bali to Cali - far beneath the coral sea.
Turning up, turning up, turning up, up I do. ohh. (x3)
Sail away, sail away, sail away. (x3)
From the north to the south, Ebudae into Khartoum,
From the deep sea of clouds to the island of the moon,
Carry me on the waves to the land I’ve never been,
Carry me on the waves to the lands I’ve never seen.
We can sail, we can sail... with the Orinoco flow
We can sail, we can sail...
Sail away, sail away, sail away.
We can steer, we can near with Rob Dickins at the wheel,
We can sigh, say goodbye Ross and his dependencies
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
We can reach, we can beach on the shores of Tripoli.
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
From Bali to Cali - far beneath the coral sea.
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
From Bissau to Palau - in the shade of Avalon,
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
We can reach, we can beach far beyond the yellow sea.
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
From Peru to Cebu hear the power of Babylon,
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , sail away, sail away (x5)
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