Oye Nazrul kaha ja raha hai?

This was how my neighbor in one of the congested places in Karol Bagh (delhi), I used to stay many years back, addressed me everytime I crossed his path. He was a middle aged Bengali who was an editor of some small magazine- that really didn’t sell much, though it contained heavy porn stuff. He invited me many times to his one room flat finally one evening I dropped into his shack, smell of mustard oil wafted through the room. The man loved poetry and had grand plans for himself but somehow things didn’t work out for him so ended up editing seedy magazines. His wife children were in Bengal and he was insistent on not bringing them to Delhi “they shouldn’t know what I do”. Now this man said I looked like Nazrul Islam he showed excitement and was quite astonished when i told him i was not a bengali!!. He read Nazrul’s poems loudly, there was fervency and passion in his voice when he read those lines that seem so poignant to his surrounding. He liked me a lot though I avoided him and when he knew that I too scribble few lines here and there he tried to encourage “poetry is life long”. In retrospect I think I reminded him of his youth or something on that line…nothing could explain his genuine excitement every time he saw me. So even if I was across the street he would shout in his thick Bengali accent “oye Nazroool kaha ja raha hai thooo?” to my utmost embarrassment. Now when I am thinking about him as I write these I feel quite sad, I hope he is fine.

I had heard about Kazi Nazrul Islam as part of General Knowledge questions but hadn’t really read so went to the library and sat down and yes try to locate his pictures I had shade of him alright- atleast the way I looked in 1997-98. Nazrul Islam was an exciting discovery….

more about it in bird’s blog (go to the link)