East Bengal Research Articles

Livelihood of the Char Dwellers of Western Assam

The Brahmaputra and other rivers of Assam are replete with numerous sandbars, which are locally called chars. Chars are home to nearly 10 per cent population of Assam. Char dwellers live a precarious life. Battered by recurrent floods and soil erosion, chars have an impermanent existence. In western Assam, the char dwellers, mostly belonging to the migrant Muslim community of East Bengal origin, live in backwardness and poverty. The article examines two questions pertaining to their economic life: income and seasonal migration. Through a primary data survey and statistical analysis, the article seeks to delineate the salient factors which influence their income and migration decision. We conclude that land holding, land lost due to erosion, household size and education are some of the factors which play a key role in this regard. We find that location of a char is important: some chars are more migration-prone than others. Policy implications have been spelled out in the end.

There Are No More Places to Migrate To

This essay, written as narrative nonfiction, is the portion of an oral history interview with Kalyani Ray Chowdhury, who was born in 1929 in Chittagong (present-day Bangladesh), on what she recalls of her homeland in East Bengal. A few months prior to India's 1947 Partition into India and Pakistan by the British, Ray Chowdhury's family had been vacationing in the city of Patna. They were unable to travel back home to Mymensingh due to rising communal and political turmoil. When the Partition line was finally declared, they found themselves living life as refugees in Calcutta in West Bengal, while their home remained abandoned across the newly formed border in East Bengal. During the course of the interview, Ray Chowdhury also makes note of the nuanced distinctions in the culture and language of people from both sides of the Bengal border, and how conscious efforts had to be made on the part of her family to feel any sense of integration to their newly adopted home.

The Myth of ‘Bengali Migration’ to Arakan Debunked

Genocidal crimes don’t happen in vacuum and require groundwork from the racist and bigoted elements to state and non-state actors to prepare the support base and mobilize the dominant group to perpetrate such heinous crimes. For decades, the Buddhist majority in Myanmar has denied the very existence of the minority Rohingya people who are mostly Muslims and falsely portrayed them as intruders from the district of Chittagong of Bangladesh. As a result, the Rohingyas are victims of genocide. Since 2017 nearly 24,000 of them have been slaughtered, as part of a national project, in Buddhist Myanmar simply because of their distinct ethnicity and religion. Nearly a million of them have been forced to seek refuge inside Bangladesh. In this paper, the British-era demographic data on the Rohingya people who are mostly settled in their ancestral land of Arakan (Rakhine), bordering today’s Bangladesh are analyzed statistically. The results of the analysis debunk the popular Buddhist myth of Bengali or Chittagonian mass migration from Chittagong in East Bengal (today’s Bangladesh) to Arakan during the British rule of India.

Political History and the Socio-Economic-Cultural- Transnational Innovation in Bangladesh

Riverine country in South Asia Bangladesh has seen various incidents from the British Bengal to East Pakistan and after being an independent country in Bangladesh. Its social, economic, cultural changes affected its people from the beginning, people of East Bengal were an innocent, poor peasants Muslim Bengali majority. Because of its economic and educational disadvantage, the British have exploited through land reforms, feudal system. It was similar exploitation from West Pakistan. People of East Pakistan finally started a revolution for freedom from the exploiters and through a bloody war in 1971, East Pakistan became an independent country. Bangladesh after independence has seen poverty, unemployment, social classifications, communalism between majority Muslims and minority Hindus, it has seen a civilian and military government with impractical policies, which provided nothing but tensions and grief. However, Bangladesh finally manages its status in the world as a future economic power by the establishment of democracy, by the implementation of various policies, such as a vision of a developed country by 2030. Its academic exchanges through various institutions like the American Institute of Bangladesh Studies (AIBS) at the University of Wisconsin helps its acceptability worldwide and recognizes its linguistic features, such as literature of Tagore and Kaji Nazrul Islam. It is an ethnographic article, which will send a message to the rest of the about Bangladesh, its social, economic, political structure, people, and its ambition to be an economic powerhouse in the 21st century, it is a message from a Bengali nation who established Bengali language as an international language to the UN. This article has completed through the reading of various books, academic articles and journals, and the research will be continuing through discussions, publications and collaboration with academic institutes.

A Spoken Silence: Rabindranath and the Ecology of Modern Consciousness

Rabindranath’s enormous corpus of varied work has been widely un-derstood as that of a poet, a writer, a playwright, a musician and a man of letters. He has only rarely been interpreted as a philosopher, and almost never as an ecological philosopher. Preliminary research shows that he is perhaps India’s first modern ecological philosopher - at growing odds with modernity. The essay argues that Tagore’s perspectives and insights are unique and his intellectual contribution in this area is indispensable to an understanding of the ecological and spiritual implications of technological, industrial modernity. There are few thinkers during the last hundred years anywhere more relevant when it comes to teaching us the significance of how we relate to the natural world (including, needless to add, our very own bodies) and what it tells us about ourselves and the way we have come to live.The focus in this paper is on what we can learn about Tagore’s outlook on the natural world and our relationship to it from a set of letters he wrote to his niece during his years as a young man, looking after his family estate in East Bengal (now, Bangladesh).

State of (the) Mind: The Bengali Intellectual Milieu and Envisioning the State in the Post-Colonial Era

Drawing on a new digital collection of oral interviews, this essay examines the place and meaning of the state in Bengali thought. In the immediate aftermath of decolonisation, East Bengal intellectuals, without substantial pre-engagement with the colonial state, favoured forms of political action or praxis that longed for a new state—a longing that culminated in the birth of Bangladesh in 1971. Intellectuals connected to West Bengal, already entrenched in their own economic and social multiverse, never entertained the idea of a new state outside India. Instead, a Foucauldian irreverence for the state and its elite became more dominant there, flourishing through Subaltern Studies. Despite these differences perceptible synergies in the Banglaphone thoughtscape took root in the 1980s that spoke to late Cold War anxieties about the future of participatory democracy and the public good. This convergence of thought across Bangladesh and West Bengal reflected the emergence of an intellectual who elided the notional boundaries of the post-colonial state, yet stood ambivalently before the crucible of neo-liberal temporality, exposing the limits of the discursive subject in the late twentieth-century Global South.

Asok Ranjan Das Gupta

Asok Ranjan Das Gupta was born into a highly educated Hindu family in Dualaptur, East Bengal. His father later became professor of mathematics at the University of Calcutta (now Kolkata)....

Homed, Unhomed and Rehomed in Partition Stories of East Bengal/East Pakistan

Taking three translated short stories with specific focus on “home,” namely Syed Waliullah’s “The Tale of a Tulsi Plant,” Abu Rushd’s “The Bone” and Ashraf Siddiqui’s “A House with a Pond” from Niaz Zaman’s edited book, The Escape and Other Stories of 1947 (2000), this paper will attempt to bring to light both the erasure and the enduring memory of the 1947 Partition of Bengal. We interpret “home” as a symbol of uprooting and enrooting for people crossing from the West to East Bengal within a volatile world of insecurity, loss and fear. While the stories do not directly engage with the grand and populist discourses of the 1947 riots, they represent an uncanny world-in-transition for Muslims trying to cross into East Bengal/East Pakistan to start a new life. We analyse the stories’ indissoluble relation between materiality and memory, necessary for the identity of the region’s collective posterity. In doing so, we employ Ananya Jahanara Kabir’s terms such as “postmemory” and “post-amnesia” to argue that the essay is our attempt to reclaim the literary memories of 1947, which shape the intergenerational identities of Bangladeshis.

Possible loss of some species of the family Lamiaceae from the flora of Bangladesh

Present investigation assesses 25 Lamiaceous taxa as possibly Extinct (EX) from the flora of Bangladesh due to various anthropogenic activities. The study based on long term field investigation, examination of preserved herbarium specimens at different national and international herbaria and consultation of relevant floristic literature. These taxa have been previously reported from the area of Bangladesh about 70 to 200 years ago. Since then there have been no subsequent reports of occurrence and no collected specimens are available at any herbaria. Furthermore, this species could not be relocated from elsewhere in Bangladesh. Among these 25 taxa, Leucas mollissima Wall. ex Benth. (=L. decemdentata (Willd.) Sm.) and Elsholtzia incisa Benth. (=E. stachyodes (Link.) Raizada and Saxena) have been reported from the area about 193 and 77 years ago respectively. 18 species (72%) have been reported from Sylhet; of which, 13 species, viz. Aphanochilus blandus Benth. (=Elsholtzia blanda (Benth.) Benth.), Gomphostemma lucidum Wall. ex Benth., G. melissifolium (Roxb.) Wall. ex Benth., Plectranthus hispidus Benth. (=Isodon hispidus (Benth.) Murata), Plectranthus gerardianus Benth. (=Isodon lophanthoides (Buch.-Ham. ex D. Don) Hara), Leucas vestita Benth., Orthosiphon incurvus Benth., Phlomis rugosa Benth. (=Paraphlomis javanica (Blume) Prain), Geniosporum strobiliferum Wall. ex Benth. (=Platostoma coloratum (D. Don) A.J. Paton), Geniosporum parviflorum Benth. (=Platostoma palustre (Blume) A. J. Paton), Pogostemon parviflorus Benth., Dysophylla strigosa Benth. (=Pogostemon strigosus (Benth.) Benth.), and Scutellaria discolor Wall. ex Benth. were named based on type specimens collected from area by Wallich‟s collectors, and Microtoenia griffithii Prain was named based on Griffith‟s collection from East Bengal (current Bangladesh) Sinne loco. Enumeration of these possibly extinct taxa is prepared with data on habit, habitat, phenology, global distribution, recorded localities, specimens examined, and notes with some photographs of type/herbarium specimens.J. Biodivers. Conserv. Bioresour. Manag. 2017, 3(2): 19-34

The Xenophobia, Racial Identity and the Crisis of Federalism in East Pakistan

The racial identity of Bengal played a significant role in shaping and determining the political discourse in South Asia at different periods of history. The most violent expression of this identity occurred during the 1970-71 crisis between East and West wings of Pakistan and culminated in the dismemberment of Pakistan and the emergence of separate independent state of Bangladesh with the support of India. This violent episode of assertion of racial identity was marked with drama, trauma and tragedy. The tragic memories of violence are still alive and affect the attitude of people and state as well. While for Bengalis the war of 1971 was a war of liberation and deliverance from tyrannical and exploitative rule of West Pakistan, for Indians the victory was a great national achievement and a good lesson and settling of score with Pakistan. For Pakistanis it was the act of betrayal from Bengalis and an Indian conspiracy. An attempt will be made in this study to understand the development of racial identity in East Bengal and its culmination in armed conflict of 1971. An effort will be made to understand the xenophobia of Bengali nationalists and the xenophobic response of Pakistani military. The study will trace historical and structural roots of this phenomenon to understand the way this xenophobia was politicized and to understand the dynamics of this crisis through application of xenophobic response of conflicting identities. Xenophobia, in East Pakistan, acquired the general character and was institutionalized and manifested itself in mass scale. This study will be an effort to approach this problem through historical perspective; where the humans’ social behavior determined and guided the political conduct of a certain community.

Influence of Religion in Internal Politics of Bangladesh

The study of the relationship between politics and religion is important to understand the current society of Bangladesh. It is believed that the reason for the separation of the Indian subcontinent into two parts: India and Pakistan was a religious factor. East Bengal became part of Pakistan, called East Pakistan. In Pakistan Islam was the state religion, which was reflected in the entire social life of Bengalis. In East Pakistan, most of the people are Bengalis and speak in Bangla, culture, traditions and way of life were historically connected with the peoples of India. In Pakistan, the state language was Urdu. The authorities of west Pakistan pressed the people of East Pakistan to study Urdu in educational institutions, tried to ignore the Bangla language, limiting the activities of newspapers and radio, which caused discontent among the population. A considerable time in educational institutions was devoted to the study of religion. Many decisions of local authorities were adopted and executed on the behalf of Islam. The authorities of Pakistan suppressed the people with this policy by mass repressions. Particularly bloody repressions against the Bengali people were held in 1971. As a result of a popular uprising, armed struggle and the expulsion of troops, this part of Pakistan has become an independent country. In 1972, after the establishment of the People's Republic of Bangladesh, secularism became one of the fundamental principles of the Constitution of Bangladesh. The article analyzes the political process through which religion becomes part of politics, using the historical method of research. Although the Constitution says that religion is separated from the state, but until now religion is considered a very important factor in the politics of Bangladesh.

Indian Art and the Bangladesh War

In the visual realm, the Bangladesh war of 1971 is bound up with images of communal violence and mass migration that recall the trauma of 1947 when Bengal was divided between West and East Bengal, India and Pakistan. As in the case of the 1940s famines and the Partition of India and Pakistan, the birth of Bangladesh churned out a large number of what Jacques Rancière calls ‘naked images’. Yet, contrary to Partition, the body of works that resulted from this war, whether in documentary photography or in formally experimental painting and print, is seldom examined, and that despite considerable artistic mobilisation. By analysing the responses of Indian artists, including that of Bhupen Khakhar and K G Subramanyan, this article asks crucial questions on the enduring role of partitions within South Asian artistic production. The article also probes India's changing role within the hierarchies of the international system and considers Indian artists' position vis-à-vis the politics of the Non-Aligned Movement and Third-Worldism.

The Politics of Vaccination. A Global History by Christine Holmberg, Stuart Blume, and Paul Greenough, eds

Health & History ● 19/2 ● 2017 169 Inquiry’s findings is included in an appendix. The book’s photographs and diagrams (some of which explain CIS progression) provide additional context. As the first comprehensive account of the Cartwright Inquiry written by a ‘whistle-blower’ NWH doctor, Doctors in Denial fills an important gap in the historiography of this subject, enriching the existing literature and, importantly, helping to counter-balance recent attempts at academic revisionist history. JANE ADAMS UNIVERSITY OF OTAGO Christine Holmberg, Stuart Blume, and Paul Greenough, eds, The Politics of Vaccination. A Global History (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2017). ISBN: 978-1-5261-1088-6 (HB). 343pp. Like the diseases it seeks to control, vaccination is a global phenomenon. If exposure to infectious diseases is the common lot of humanity, now the experience of vaccination also creates a homogenising bond. Vaccination is also a political act. It is often one of the few publicly supported forms of medical intervention and is often compulsory or nearly compulsory. It is a rite of passage for a citizen with a perceived public as well as private benefit. This global history of the politics of vaccination offers, through eleven case studies, rich insight on the world’s experience of vaccination, especially the complex relationship between medicine and the state. The case studies are grouped loosely under three headings: ‘Vaccination and National Identity’; ‘Nationality and Vaccine Production’; and ‘Vaccination, the Individual and Society’. A great strength of the book, though, is that all the studies address more than one theme. The case studies have geographical range, with studies on Bangladesh (Paul Greenough), Brazil (Jaime Benchimol), Eastern Europe (Dora Vargha), India (Niels Brimnes), Japan (Julia Yongue), Mexico (Ana María Carrillo), the Netherlands (Stuart Blume), Nigeria (Elisha Renne), South Korea (Eun Kyung Choi and YoungGyung Paik), Sweden (Britta Lundgren and Martin Holmberg), and the United Kingdom (Andrea Stöckl andAnna Smajdor). While a few of the studies begin in the late nineteenth century, all are primarily concerned with developments in the twentieth century, and many 170 BOOK REVIEWS of them include recent events and trends, not least the ‘Afterword’ (William Muraskin). The link between vaccination and state-building is explored, directly or indirectly, in all the studies. The connection was well established in Europe. Sweden mandated compulsory smallpox vaccination as early as 1816. Vargha’s study shows its new ideological resonance in Eastern Bloc countries during the Cold War—the polio threat in the late 1950s raised the stakes dramatically not only in relation to the ‘health of the population and epidemic control, but also the strength and capability of the new communist system’(p.91). Smallpox vaccination in Mexico and Brazil began in colonial times, but its early success owed a great deal to colonial agency. From the late nineteenth century, the two countries set some store by vaccination and took some pride in contributing to the science and technology of this medical advancement. In post-Independence East Bengal there was a high degree of mobilisation in a campaign to suppress smallpox and cholera outbreaks that was informed by a resolve to show the British, Pakistan, and international administrations independent agency. Brazil played a leading role in seeking a vaccine for yellow fever; showed its capacity for heroic vaccination in 1975, immunising ten million people against hepatitis in five days; and received an award for eradicating wild poliovirus in 1994. In Japan and South Korea, too, vaccination played critical roles in forging a modern nation. After the ‘opening up’ of Japan in the late nineteenth century, the Japanese took up smallpox vaccination with alacrity and rapidly developed impressive expertise in the relevant sciences and technology. On the other hand, it showed caution in evaluating and accepting other vaccines. For South Korea, too, vaccination was part of an imaginary of progress, ultimately privileging the health of the future generation. If vaccination was to play its part in protecting the national body politic, there was the problem of vaccine supply. The larger European states,ofcourse,soughtadegreeofautonomyinproducingthevaccine they needed. In the wake of the Pasteur-Koch revolution, there was a wave of interest in new vaccine possibilities and European-style institutes were established around the world. In Brazil...

“Vietnamese time bomb” waiting to explode; Burkholderia pseudomallei, retributing the “rare” tag. An update

Abstract The chronicles of Melioidosis, a Glanders like disease dates back from 1911 Yangon (Rangoon), Myanmar (Burma). The disease is regarded as endemic to Southeast Asia (Vietnam, China, and Hong Kong, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore). In India despite having the perfect triad of the host; pathogen and environment case reports have been sparse; however, cases are being reported now from West Bengal in east to Rajasthan in west and Bihar in north to Pondicherry in south. The clinical community is largely oblivious to the menace buried within the paddy fields, vast coastline, tropical climate and abundant rainfall. With 62 million diabetics and 77.2 million pre-diabetics, with 30% population consuming alcohol; the two commonest associated underlying risk factors, India is like sitting on a time bomb waiting to explode.

Offline: Something for the weekend

What did you do this past weekend? Perhaps you booked your summer vacation. Or dined out at a recently opened local restaurant. Or treated yourself to a small luxury. Isn't that what weekends are for? A brief interlude in a busy (and likely stressed) life to rest and reward yourself (or others) for your week's work. But were these purchases strictly necessary? Probably not. But then that's the whole point. You earned your gift to yourself—a normal part of what it is to lead a modern life. But, according to the ethicist Peter Singer, possibly not a moral life. Singer identifies his essay, Famine, Affluence, and Morality, as one of the two great achievements of his lifetime (the other is Animal Liberation). His essay was first published in 1972 and has now been reissued, together with several related articles by Singer and a foreword by Bill and Melinda Gates. Singer's core argument is straightforward: few of us are doing enough to address the injustices of our world. Hardly a new message. Indeed, you may be tempted to stop reading at this point. Who wants to be lectured by an academic philosopher who enjoys the considerable comforts of one of America's wealthiest universities (Princeton)? But the arguments in Singer's short book are worth reviewing because they pose interesting questions about who we are and what we do—and perhaps especially so for health professionals who might think they already do a great deal for humanity. Singer encapsulates his case in the following way: “I can see no escape from the conclusion that each one of us with wealth surplus to his or her essential needs should be giving most of it to help people suffering from poverty so dire as to be life-threatening.” He accepts that this is an “uncomfortable conclusion”. The defences against Singer's injunctions are familiar. Would the money we give not simply fall into the hands of corrupt politicians? Don't we already give generously through taxpayer-funded overseas development aid? And is there not a distinction between, even a different duty towards, those who live in our own communities and those who live under the jurisdiction and responsibility of a government elsewhere (charity begins at home)? Singer rejects these counter arguments. In the realm of morality, there can be no difference between our responsibilities to those who live near or far. And there are now many sure ways—respected charities, for example—to ensure that our money reaches those in greatest need. That word, charity, is part of the problem. We see giving to charity as an act of generosity. It is optional. We may be praised for doing so. But we are not condemned for not doing so. “This way of looking at the matter”, Singer writes, “cannot be justified”. Giving is neither charitable nor generous—”we ought to give the money away, and it is wrong not to do so”. He admits that his proposals are radical, requiring nothing less than “the revision of our moral conceptual scheme”. But the logic of his case is clear: “From the moral point of view, the prevention of the starvation of millions of people outside our society [the 1971 famine of East Bengal was the spur for his essay] must be considered at least as pressing as the upholding of property norms within our society.” And: “The issue is one which faces everyone who has more money than he needs to support himself and his dependents.” If we choose not to give away our money, Singer concludes that “we are failing to live a morally decent life”. In their foreword, Bill and Melinda Gates suggest that Singer's original argument was ahead of its time, “But perhaps its time has now come.” Singer considers why our species has not developed the sensibility to consider those in need far away from us our direct responsibility. He puts it down to evolution. For thousands of years the circumference of our emotional concern was local. We did not have the means to see and feel the suffering of others. But now we do, and there can be no excuse for our lack of attention or action: “we cannot discriminate against someone merely because he is far away from us…if it is in our power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it”.

Borders, Commodities and Citizens across Mud and River: Assam, 1947–50s

Assam had long been crucially dependent on the geography of East Bengal to sustain its trade and commerce. Partition destabilized this dependency. The Partition suddenly redefined the multifaceted economic, cultural and ecological commonalities, which both Bengal and Assam had shared over the centuries. Despite recent renewal of interest in the post-Partition political economy of India’s western border and Bengal, the experience of Assam, except the question of Sylhet referendum, has received very little attention in historical research. This article offers a fresh explanation of how the new Indian border redefined the agrarian and plantation economy of Assam, how the question of refugee settlement turned out to be a highly contested political subject, and how a newly instituted legal framework complicated the lives of the people living across this politically divided national space.

On the Recent Diversification of Bāul-Fakir Musical Repertoire in West Bengal: Spiritual Music in a Crowded Marketplace

In recent years, Bengali Bāul-Fakir music has become popular among affluent, educated Bengalis. Increased commercial demand, professional competition among performers, and the availability of inexpensive audio recordings have sparked a marked diversification of individual Bāul-Fakirs’ musical repertoires. I illustrate this diversity through detailed transcriptions and discuss other recent innovations, including the use of large performance ensembles, the use of “modern” instrumentation, and the blending of melodic elements from East Bengal with rhythmic elements from West Bengal. More broadly, I suggest that the commodification of a spiritual music can serve as a catalyst for musical innovation, and I provide ethnographic evidence suggesting that such innovations need not threaten the efficacy of the music in spiritual settings.

Two Articles by Ritwik Ghatak

Two Articles by Ritwik Ghatak Moinak Biswas Ritwik Ghatak (1925–1976) was born in Dhaka, now in Bangladesh (referred to as East Bengal in the essays here), and moved to West Bengal around the time of India’s independence and the Partition (1947). He started off as a writer of short stories and became seriously involved in the new theater spawned by the leftist cultural movement, which around 1944 had taken the form of the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA). The IPTA mobilized an unprecedented range of artists and writers from various fields, leaving its impact on almost every aspect of cultural practice around the middle of the twentieth century, including the Bombay cinema of the 1950s and 1960s. Ghatak’s involvement in film began in 1949 as an assistant director and screenwriter. He would soon adopt filmmaking as his profession, [End Page 11] even though he continued to write, direct, and act in plays. His first film, Nagarik (The Citizen, 1953) never saw the light of day in his lifetime. After a stint in Bombay as a screenwriter for Filmistan Studios, he returned to Bengal to make his second feature, Ajantrik (The Unmechanical, 1958), which firmly established him as a foremost director, alongside Satyajit Ray. The period between 1958 and 1962 was his most productive, when he made Bari Theke Paliye (Running away from Home, 1959), and the three Bengal Partition films—Meghe Dhaka Tara (Cloud-Capped Star, 1960), Komal Gandhar (The Gandhar Sublime, 1961), and Subarnarekha (The Golden Line, 1962). Meghe Dhaka Tara was the only popular success that Ghatak ever saw in his life. The other films not only were commercial failures but also met with critical censure, often from his comrades in the leftist circle, for obscurity, lack of coherence, and—more damaging—sentimentalism. A long period of stillborn projects, unfinished films, and delayed releases followed, which contributed to the alcoholism and nervous disorders that dogged Ghatak for the rest of his life. During 1964 and 1965 Ghatak taught in the new state film school in Pune, earned a reputation as a legendary teacher, and inspired a group of young filmmakers who would become prominent practitioners of the Indian new wave in the 1970s (Mani Kaul, Kumar Shahani, and John Abraham, among them). He managed to make two more feature films (Titas Ekti Nadir Nam [A River Called Titas, 1973] and Jukti Takko ar Gappo [Arguments and a Story, 1974]) before his death at the age of fifty. Ghatak’s work remained largely unrecognized until a critical revival started in the 1980s. The new critics undertook a reappraisal, among other things, of the complex role of melodrama and narrative experimentation in his films as well as the role of historical imagination and Indian aesthetic traditions in his method. In the absence of a hospitable critical environment, Ghatak wrote some extraordinary commentaries on his own cinema. A definitive anthology of his English writings was belatedly published in 2000 and a complete Bengali collection (from which I have chosen the two pieces here) in 2005.1 The essays and interviews, crucial for an understanding of his work, mainly appeared in film society magazines, the present texts being no exception. Both of the essays were written in 1963. The third Partition film, Subarnarekha, had been recently completed. After the abject rejection of Komal Gandhar by both audiences and critics, Ghatak was facing a challenge to even find a release for what is often considered his most mature work. Written in days of deep despondency, Ghatak, the self-professed Marxist, tried to explain his method in these essays to whoever was ready to consider the question of artistic practice outside the narrow confines of official leftist principles. In the first essay, he draws on Joseph Campbell’s Masks of God, published three years earlier, to explain his principle of using archetypal forms.2 As such, he joins a line of twentieth-century artists and critics who came under the influence of C. G. Jung. The interest in the collective unconscious was to stay with Ghatak, a source of puzzlement to his colleagues. But more than a belief in a system, it was a useful tool for him to formulate...

The Naxal Novel

The Lowland—Jhumpa Lahiri’s second novel—opens on the grounds of the Tollygunge Club, a British-built country club in Calcutta, West Bengal. The year is 1956, and although a decade has passed since India won its freedom, a portrait of Queen Elizabeth graces the club’s main drawing room. Two Bengali brothers have snuck over the boundary wall of the club and are gazing at its golf course in awe. Subhash and Udayan Mitra belong to a middle-class family. They live in a modest enclave of houses near the titular lowland, a marshy sprawl that floods during the monsoon. On its periphery, hundreds of Partition refugees from East Bengal have erected huts of sackcloth and bamboo between growing piles of garbage. The club’s walls have been raised to block out the squalor but also to prevent the poor from seeing how the elite live.

Notes on nomenclature and distribution of some taxa of Piper L. (Piperaceae)

The species Piper petiolatum de Candolle (1866: 161) was first described based on specimens collected by J. D. Hooker and T. Thomson from Khasia hills and by W. Griffith (Kew Distribution numbers 4405 & 4410, these numbers were assigned in 1860’s at Kew before distributing the specimens to different herbaria) from East Bengal (present day Bangladesh – however, the labels on the sheets reveal that the Griffith specimens were actually collected from NE India, which is discussed below). Three years later, in A.P. de Candolle’s Prodromus, A.C.P. de Candolle cited these specimens under Chavica petiolata de Candolle (1869: 389), but did not mention his earlier publication of Piper petiolatum nor was the name listed it in the ‘Species e Pipere exclusae’. Eventually, Hooker in Flora of British India (1886: 84) also overlooked that this species name was already published under Piper Linnaeus (1753: 28) by A.C.P. de Candolle and transferred Chavica petiolata to Piper and cited his name as the author made the new combination. However, Hooker observed that the Khasian specimens quoted by A.C.P. de Candolle were actually of Piper thomsonii (de Candolle 1869: 389) Hooker (1886: 87), which was described along with Chavica petiolata. The former species is often treated as a synonym of Piper sylvaticum Roxburgh (1820: 158) (e. g. Long, 1984), although as stated by Gilbert and Nianhe (1999) certain discrepancies exist.