topics: |  bengali | poetry | translation | nonsense

the chhaRA (ছড়া) - a kind of rhyming verse or doggerel - has a long history in bengali folk literature. sukumar rAy is one of the pioneers of a more literary form of this tradition. as a child growing up in and out of bengal, chhaRAs were a part of my bengali childhood, as it is for every bengali.

indeed, i do not think that there is another world literature where a single author holds the nation's childhood in such thrall.

sukumar rAy's nonsense verses are filled with creatures wild and wicked dreamy and delirious, and translating them offers a serious challenge. translating nonsense verse is a dangrous endeavour at any time, but chaudhuri carries it off with aplomb. thus, we have hotch-potch, for the poem khichuRi, originally composed in 1913 - one of his first compositions for the magazine sandesh:

	a parakeet its features lent unto the lowly lizard
	in puzzle whether flies or fruit would better suit its gizzard

	

updndrakishor, sukumar, satyajit

sukumAr rAy's father was upendrakishor, a pioneer in children's
literature in bAnglA.  a contemporary of tagore, he was also a pioneer
of printing in bengal.  sukumar's son satyajit rAy, is the third in line
became a world-renowned film-maker, but his contributions to children's
literature (detective and science fiction) are no less well-regarded
among bengalis.

sukAnta chaudhuri, a professor of comparative literature at jadavpur
university, has done a wonderful job in these translations, which
established his reputation as a poet; he has subsequently brought out a
major tagore translation.  as an academic, he has also worked on
translation studies.

the poetry is compelling, and brings back powerfully a favourite voice into
a different language.  one of my favourite translations is gAner gnuto -
(lit. the butt of the song), translated here as The Power of music:


When summer comes, 	we hear the hums
	of Bhisma Lochan Sharma.
You catch his strain on hill and plain
	from Delhi down to Burma
He sings as though he's staked his life, he sings
	as though he's hell-bent;
The people, dazed,	retire amazed
        although they know it's well-meant.

a later translator, sampurna chattarji, has also attempted many of the same
poems, and on the whole, her translations succeed in capturing the
liveliness of the original more than rAy - but in some of the poems,
sukAnta chaudhuri is unbeatable.  thus, the above lines, for chattarji, are
rendered under the title The Song Slam:

	All summer long you hear the song of Bhishmalochan Sharma—
	A sound that barges like armed charges from Delhi on to Burma!
	He sings detached and soaring, roaring with all his soul,
	That dinning sound on spinning heads extracts an awful toll.

Both poems are fairly faithful to the original, but for me, sukanta's
english version has the greater verve.

creatures that are near you

the introduction by satyajit ray introduces sukumAr in a gentle light.
it revisits several items of family lore.   at the time of
his father's death, he was two years old.  he describes how sukumar was in
England to study printing technology when his father (satyajit's
grandfather), upendrakishor, launched the children's magazine called
sandesh.  sukumAr launched his career in nonsense verse by writing in
this magazine, starting 1915.

satyajit observes how the creatures created by sukumar rAy are never far
from you.  so here is the "hunkomukho hyAnglA" - literally - the
"hookah-faced glutton", here translated as lug-faced loon:

	the inspector of Drugs		is an uncle of Lug’s,
		he has no other living relation.

then again there is the tyAnsh goru (ট্যাঁশ গরু), who lives just down the
road in hAru's office.  it's translated here as the "blighty cow":

	a very strange bird is the Blighty Cow:
	you can see him at Haru’s office.
	he has dreamy eyes in a very long face,
	his sleek black curls are neatly in place.

	 	ট্যাঁশ্ গরু গরু নয়, আসলেতে পাখি সে;
		যার খুশি দেখে এস হারুদের আফিসে।
		চোখ দুটি ঢুলু ঢুলু, মুখখান মস্ত,
		ফিট্‌ফাট্ কালোচুলে টেরিকাটা চোস্ত।

another point to be noted about the blighty cow is that though he has
horns (twice-bent, no less) and a tail (that cockscrews), his drowsy eyes
and neat hair and the way he startles when scolded - all of these mark
him as a typical bengali office-clerk - the occupation of most of the
readers for such poems.

enhancing the visual appeal of the book are the large-sized original
illustrations by sukumar rAy.

Other translations : A comparison

There have been several other English translations; perhaps the most
notable is Sampurna Chattarji's Wordygurdyboom! (Abol Tabol) : The Nonsense
World Of Sukumar Ray (2004).

Chattarji's work is perhaps even closer in spirit to the original, her
rhyme is more nimble, and sometimes even matches the prosody of the
original.  Thus the above verse is given by her as:

	Limey Cow's not a ccow, in fact it's a bird;
	You can see it in Haru's office, you have my word.
	Its eyes are droopy-woopy, its face is very vast,
	Its neat and tidy hair combed down to the last.

As you can see, both are excellent as poetry.

However, Chatterji is a bit closer to the original bengali -
which went JAr khushi dekhe eso hAruder office-e, (যার খুশি দেখে এস
হারুদের আফিসে) - "anyone who wishes can see him at Haru's office".

On the whole, Chaudhuri's versions are amazingly readable, and have been
providing lots of entertainment - especially to the prabAsI bengali
diaspora - whose children though deprived of the originals, can find an
echo in these beautiful re-rendrings.

Excerpts

Hotch-Potch (khichuRi)

A pochard and a porcupine, defying the grammarians
Combined to form a porcochard, unmindful of their variance

A stork upon a tortoise grew, exclaiming "What a hoot!"
A very handsome storkoise, now, we jointly constitute.

A parakeet its features lent unto the lowly lizard,
In puzzle whether flies or fruit would better suit its gizzard.

The very goat began to feel impatient of its state :
It leapt upon a scorpion's back, and grew incorporate.

The tall giraffe refused to roam its ancestral savannah,
But tried to don a locust's wings, and glide in a graceful manner.

The cow was led to view itself, and staggered from the shock :
Its noble form had been usurped by some designing cock.mo

And rent by schizophrenia the whalephant we view :
The open seas, the forest trees, are tearing it in two.

The lion longed for antlers, and was doomed to dwell in care
Until a stag suppplied it with a truly splendid pair.

(compare this with three other translations at Wordygurdyboom!

The purloined moustache (gnof chuRi গোঁফচুরি)

The Baboo at the Central Works seemed always mild and mellow,
How could we tell he'd prove to be a most aggressive fellow?
We'd left him very happily relaxing in his bureau,
When suddenly he broke out with a truly shocking furore.
He sat up with a vicious start and thrashed his limbs about,
And rolled his eyes, and cried, "Be quick! I think I'm passing out."
So some call for an ambulance, and some for the police,
And some one warns. "He'll try to bite, so gently if you please."
In midst of this, with thund'ring voice and features grim and swollen,
The Baboo roars, "Confound you all! My whiskers have been stolen!"

A whisker-thief! How could it be? Who'd heard of such as snorter?
And there we saw the whiskers plain, not shrunk the least iota.
We told him so in clearest terms, and held up looking-glasses:
We'd never known a whisker come to such regretful passes.
At this he really hit the roof, and screamed to all the writers,
`I don't believe a word you say - I know you lying blighters.
This whisker's like a dirty broom, all bunched and coarse and scary:
I saw it once upon the lout that runs the local dairy.
I'll murder any slanderous rogue who dares to say it's mine.'
And so he took his ledger book and charged them all a fine.

Then puffed and choked with mortal rage, he penned a memorandum:
`The office staff are thick as planks, I simply cannot stand 'em.
You mustn't ever give 'em rope, be taciturn and harsh.
The pack of dolts have even failed to guard my prize moustache.
I wish that I could catch these chaps and tweak their mangy stubble,
Or chop their silly noddles off for causing all these trouble.
They think they own their facial hair - O road to all disasters!
It's whiskers, now, that make the man, and they're our lords and masters.'

Alternate vresion: The Stolen Whiskers

			[tr. Sampurna Chattarji]
			(from drunkenboat.com)


The head of our head office, a pleasant man and gentle,
Who could have ever guessed that he was really mental?
There he sat even-temperedly dozing in his chair,
When suddenly volcanic he erupted in the air.
Rolled his eyes, thrashed his limbs, started, and looked sick,
And shouted, “I’m sinking, someone catch me quick!”
At once some called for doctors, some others bawled for cops,
And some said, “Beware he bites, careful with Old Pops.”

All worked-up we scattered here and there like pollen,
When the Boss cried out, “Oh, my whiskers have been stolen!”
Whiskers stolen! The idea! Couldn’t be true, no never!
Why there his whiskers are—as luxuriant as ever.
See the mirror shows his whiskers clearly flappin’,
They’re not stolen, Sir, such things just don’t happen.

        Raining ire, spitting fire, he said with angry looks,
        “I’m not fooled by any of you, for all of you are crooks.
        Gristly-gloom, bristly-broom, detestable and dirty,
        Such whiskers I’ve seen on the wretched milkman Bertie.
        I’ll kill you all if you suggest that these whiskers are mine,”—
        Saying which he slapped us all with a hefty fine.

        Croaking-mad, choking-sad, he wrote down on the double,
        “Don’t encourage anyone, they’ll only cause you trouble.
        Clueless about my whiskers are these wretched monkeys,
        Dunderheaded useless nits are my office flunkeys.
        I should scrape their foolish pates with a spade, if I please,
        And swing madly by their whiskers as if on a trapeze.
        Between you and me hangs a whisker money cannot buy
        Whiskery you or whiskery me — therein the rub does lie.”

original bengali : গোঁফচুরি

	হেড আফিসের বড় বাবু লোকটি বড় শান্ত,
	তার যে এমন মাথায় ব্যামো কেউ কখনো জানত?
	দিব্যি ছিলেন খোসমেজাজে চেয়ারখানি চেপে,
	একলা ব'সে ঝিমঝিমিয়ে হঠাৎ গেলেন ক্ষেপে!
	আৎকে উঠে হাতে পা ছুঁড়ে চোখটি ক'রে গোল
	হঠাৎ বলেন, "গেলুম গেলুম, আমায় ধ'রে তোল"!
	তাই শুনে কেউ বদ্যি ডাকে , কেউ বা হাঁকে পুলিশ,
	কেউবা বলে, "কামড়ে দেবে সাবধানেতে তুলিস।
	ব্যস্ত সবাই এদিক ওদিক করছে ঘোরাঘুরি
	বাবু হাঁকেন, "ওরে আমার গোঁফ গিয়েছে চুরি"!
	গোঁফ হারান! আজব কথা ! তাও কি হয় সত্যি?
	গোফ জোড়া ত তেমনি আছে, কমেনি এক রত্তি!
	সবাই তাঁরে বুঝিয়ে বলে, সামনে ধ'রে আয়না,
	মোটেও গোঁফ হয়নি চুরি, কক্ষনো তা হয় না।

	রেগে আগুন তেলে বেগুন, তেড়ে বলেন তিনি,
	"কারো কথার ধার ধারিনে, সব ব্যাটাকেই চিনি।
	নোংরা ছাঁটা খ্যাংরা ঝাঁটা বিচ্ছিরি আর ময়লা,
	এমন গোফ ত রাখ্ত জানি শ্যামবাবুদের গয়লা।
	এ গোঁফ যদি আমার বলিস করব তোদের জবাই"
	এই না ব'লে জরিমানা কল্লেন তিনি সবায়।
	ভীষণ রেগে বিষম খেয়ে দিলেন লিখে খাতায়
	"কাউকে বেশি লাই দিতে নেই, সবাই চড়ে মাথায়।
	আফিসের এই বাঁদরগুলো, মাথায় খালি গোবর
	গোঁফ জোড়া যে কোথায় গেলে কেউ রাখে না খবর।
	ইচ্ছে করে এই ব্যাটাদের গোঁফ ধরে খুব নাচি,
	মুখ্যুগুলোর মুন্ড ধ'রে কোদাল দিয়ে চাঁচি।
	গোঁফকে বলে তোমার আমার গোঁফ কি কারো কেনা?
	গোঁফের আমি গোফের তুমি, তাই দিয়ে যায় চেনা।"

The Power of Music p.6

When summer comes, 	we hear the hums
	of Bhisma Lochan Sharma.
You catch his strain on hill and plain
	from Delhi down to Burma
He sings as though he's staked his life, he sings
	as though he's hell-bent;
The people, dazed,	retire amazed
        although they know it's well-meant.
They're trampled in the panic rout or languish
	pale and sickly,
And plead,"My friend, we're near our end,oh
        stop your singing quickly !"
The bullock-carts are overturned, and horses
        line the roadside;
But Bhisma Lochan, unconcerned, goes
        booming out his broadside.

The wretched brutes resent the blare the hour
	they hear it sounded,
They whine and stare with feet in air or wonder
        quite confounded.
The fishes dive below the lake in frantic search
	for silence,
The very trees collapse and shake - you hear the
        crash a mile hence -
And in the sky the feathered fly turn turtle while
        they're winging,
Again we cry,"We're goingto die, oh won't you
        stop your singing?"

But Bhisma's soared beyond our reach, howe'er
	we plead and grumble;
The welkin weeps to hear his screech, and mighty
	mansions tumble.
But now there comes a billy goat, a most
	sagacious fellow,
He downs his horns and charges straight, with
	bellow answ'ring bellow.
The strains of song are tossed and whirled by
	blast of brutal violence,
And Bhisma Lochan grants the world the golden
	gift of silence.

Pumpkin-Puff

If Pumpkin-Puff should dance -
Beware! Beware! You mustn't dare beyond the stalls advance.
You mustn't glance to fore or aft, or cast your eyes aslant,
But grapple close with tips and toes to the Rancid Radish Plant.

If Pumpkin-Puff should cry -
You simply mustn't mount the roof to contemplate the sky.
But stretched upon a pumpkin-frame and muffled in a quilt,
sing hymns to Radha-Krishna with a slily solemn lilt.

If Pumpkin-Puff should roar -
You perch upon a single leg beside the kitchen door;
Then whisper Persian verses with an eloquence forlorn,
And slink entirely supperless to lie upon the lawn.

If Pumpkin-Puff should run -
You scramble up the window frame as though you'd heard a gun;
Your cheeks and chin anoint with care in talcum blent with tar,
And never turn your eyes aloft to gaze upon a star.

If Pumpkin-Puff should wail -
You're meant to don your legal hats and climb into a pail.
You make a paste of spinach-pulp to plaster round the nape,
And heat a piece of pumice-stone and give your nose a scrape.

Perhaps you scorn my warning words, or think they sound demented.
If Pumpkin-Puff should find you out, he'll make you sore repent it.
And then you'll see my prophecies fulfilled in every letter:
So don't blame me - it's you who thought you knew your courses better.

4 Pumpkin-Grumpkin (Kumro PAtash)

(If) Pumpkin-Grumpkin dances-
Don't for heaven's sake go where the stable horse prances
Don't look left, don't look right, don't take no silly chances.
Instead cling with all four legs to the holler-radish branches.

(If) Pumpkin-Grumpkin runs-
Make sure you scramble up the windows all at once;
Mix rouge with hookah water and on your face smear tons;
And don't dare look up at the sky, thinking you're great guns!

(If) Pumpkin-Grumpkin calls-
Clap legal hats on to your heads, float in basisn down the halls;
Pound spinach into healing paste and smear your forehead walls;
And with a red-hot pumice-stone rub your nose until it crawls.

Those of you who find this foolish and dare to laugh it off,
When Pumpkin-Grumpkin gets to know you won't want to scoff.
Then you'll see which words of mine are full of truth, and how,
Don't come running to me then, I'm telling you right now.
		(tr. Sampurna Chatterjee)

Snakes alive

Baburam, snake man,
Where do you make, man?
Stop for two shakes
And sell me some snakes.

They mustn't have claws,
Or nails, or jaws,
Not run nor fight,
Nor ever_ bite.

To lunge or hiss
Would be most remiss.
I'd keep them fed
On milk and bread.

If you get me a pair
Of serpents so rare,
With my cudgel bold
I'll knock them cold. 


---

Alternate translation.

Baburam The Snake Charmer

		[allegedly by Satyajit Ray himself, but may be an
		internet myth.  But SR was clearly a talented English
		rhymester, as he shows in the introduction.]

Hullo, there Baburam – what have you got in there?
Snakes? Aha – and do you think there’s one that you could spare
You know, I’d love to have one, but let me tell you this–
The ones that bite aren’t right for me – nor the ones that hiss.

	I’d also skip the ones that butt
	As well the ones that whistle
	Or the ones that slink about
	Or show their fangs, or bristle.

As for eating habits, I think it would be nice
To go for ones that only take a meal of milk and rice.
I’m sure you know the kind of snake that want fromwhat I’ve said,
Do let me have one, Baburam, so I could bash its head.








 

Super-Beast

A very weird creature, of no proper breed,
Went grumbling all day out of envy and greed.
He wailed on the meadows and wept by the streams
With sulking demands and exorbitant dreams.
You scarcely could tell why he kept up his whine.
Forever complaining, ·'I wish it were mine.'
He wanted a voice like the cuckoo's refrain ;
So practised his crooning. but warbled in vain.
He envied the birds as they soared in the sky,
And wished he had wings. and could learn how to fly.
With trunk and with tusk see the elephant tread :
So why should he settle for less on his head?
He viewed the lithe kangaroo bounding along.
And longed for his legs to be lanky and strong.
For the lion's proud mane he would also make suit.
The long scaly tail of the lizard to boot.
He called on all creatures to please all his whims,
And moaned to the world for his maladroit limbs.

When lo and behold! On the fifth of July
He suddenly gained all he'd wanted to try!
But once the excitement was utterly over.
He found that he wasn't quite living in clover.
Should elephants prance in such lolloping manner?
Or kangaroos feed off a stalk of banana?
If Squat Head cried 'Cuckoo·. would people be rapt?
Would an elephant's trunk on that torso be apt?
Supposing they jeered at a jumbo that flew,
Or tweaked his poor ears and guffawed and cried 'Boo'?
Supposing they challenged him, right to his face.
'You nameless old boob. you're a proper disgrace.·
He couldn't reply, for he'd have no defence.
So burst out at last in his anguish intense :
I can't be a moth or a horse or a snake.
A bee or an elephant. donkey or drake.
A fish or a frog or a bird or a tree.
A shoe or a sunshade -
Oh what can I be? '

The Rule of Twenty-One একুশে আইন

					 p.18
	In Lord Shiva's native land
	The laws are hard to understand.
	If you trip and come a cropper,
	You're collared by the nearest copper,
	The magistrates upon you seize,
	And fine you twenty-one rupees.

	You also need a special lease
	Till six o clock to ccugh or sneeze, [...]

	And whiskers grown in sundry manners
	Attract a toll - a hundred annas [...]
	
	People who indulge in verses
	Are caged up straight with muttered curses

		শিবঠাকুরের আপন দেশে ,
		আইন কানুন সর্বনেশে!
		কেউ যদি যায় পিছলে প'ড়ে,
		প্যায়দা এসে পাক্‌‌ড়ে ধরে ,
		কাজির কাছে হয় বিচার-
			একুশ টাকা দন্ড তার।।

		সেথায় সন্ধে ছটার আগে
		হাঁচতে হলে টিকিট লাগে  [...]

		কারুর যদি গোঁফ গজায় ,
		একশো আনা ট্যাক্সো চায়- [...]

		যে সব লোকে পদ্য লেখে,
		তাদের ধরে খাঁচায় রেখে,
		কানের কাছে নানান্ সুরে
		নামতা শোনায় একশো উড়ে,
		সামনে রেখে মুদীর খাতা-
			হিসেব কষায় একুশ পাতা।। 

War and peace

			p.24

'Hullo there! Is it true you said
The other day that white was red?
And also that last night at three
you snored completely out of key?
And even your cats all screech and howl
Like dreadful toms upon the prowl?
And none of you, the neighbours jeered
Have learnt to grow a proper beard?
So what's all this, you stupid lout?
I'll thrash you till you're inside out.'

	'Now if just once I see you glare
	Or try my patience if you dare,
	Or once again I hear you brawl
	Like that for no excuse at all ...'

'I couldn't care two pewter pe~ce :
I know my art of self-defence.'

	'So that's your trick? Oh well, all right,
	Come'n'fight -- just come'n'fight.'

'You don't know what you are in for, mate :
You'11 find out soon but just too late.'

	''If Uncle could be here, I know
	He'd thrash you to a lump of dough.'

'Hit me, would you? You'd better stop,
Or else I'll call the nearest cop.'

	'What's that? Now, now, let's not be rash :
	Why don't we talk before we clash?'

'Of course - the very thing to do!
You know I'd never bully you.'

	'Here, have some spice, and make an end.
	My dear chap, you're my oldest friend!'

'Shake hands, old man - it's time I went.
Don't take offence where none was meant.'

	'Now there's a sport! So that's all right.
	It's getting late - good night, good night.'

untitled

			p.25

Oh aunty I'm all in a fix -
   There are beans on the mulberry stalks.
The jumbos wear toadstools as wigs,
   And the jackdaws go hatching wee storks.

In Hooghly I saw only recently -
   You mustn't repeat what I've said -
Three porkers all dressed very decently,
   But none with a cap to his head.

Contents

rhymes without reason (Abol tAbol)

Hotch-potch					1
The Old Man of the Woods			2
Tickle-My-Ribs  				3
The Purloined Moustache  			4
A Marriage is Announced  			5
The Power of Music				6
The Inventor					7
Shadow Play					8
Pumpkin-Puff					10
Safety First					11
Doctor Deadly					12
The Miracle Man  				13
Snakes Alive					14
The Owl's Love Song				14
Burglar Alarm					15
All's Well					16
Super-Beast					17
The Rule of Twenty-One  			18
The Lug-Headed Loon				20
The Customs of Bombagarh			22
The Music-Makers				23
War and Peace					24
Story Time					26
The Encyclopedia				27
Spook-Sports					28
Infant Joy					29
The Griffon's Grouse				30
Glee Song					32
The Hand of Fate				33
The Perfume Crisis				34
The Girt of Tears				36
Old Tom's Nocturne				37
Indirections					38
An Invitation					39
The Pursuit of Science  			40
The Blighty Cow  				41
Hit and Miss					42
The Strong Man  				43
Dream Song					44

A topsy-turvy tale (ha-ja-ba-ra-la)		45-62