Early this year in Kolkata, while examining India’s pluralism and multiculturalism, a panel of elite speakers mentioned several literary and cultural icons of Bengal, including Rabindranath Tagore and Satyajit Ray. But one name — Kazi Nazrul Islam — was curiously missing from the list.

Political scientist and author, Mujibur Rahman, who was in attendance took note of this omission and decided to make amends by organising a discussion on the life and legacy of Nazrul at India International Centre in Delhi ahead of the ‘Bidrohi Kobi’s (rebel poet) death anniversary on August 29. 

Nazrul’s (1899-1976) disappearance from the collective consciousness of Bengal’s intelligentsia is near total, his presence in the people’s sphere at best fleeting. In the run-up to Durga Puja, though, selections from his bouquet of ‘Agomoni’ songs are occasionally played and performed to welcome the goddess.

Emerging from the Bengal Renaissance of the 19th century, Nazrul flourished in the time of Atul Prasad Sen, Rajanikanta Sen, Dwijendralal Roy and Rabindranath Tagore, who had great affection for the firebrand young writer whom he lovingly called Dhumketu (comet). Together, they were referred to as the Pentagon of Poets or Pancha-kobi.  

Nazrul’s literary and musical oeuvre, that found expression in a staggering creative span, was cut short in 1942 at the age of 42, due to a debilitating neurological disorder. He composed over 3,000 songs in a variety of genres — from Indian classical to ghazals — in Bengali. A stint in the British army exposed him to Persian literature, its influences finding their way into his songs. He discovered God in all faiths, composing Islamic songs and some of the most moving kirtans invoking goddess Kali and Durga. He was a passionate advocate of amity, countering communal tensions with songs of unity: “On the same branch blossom twin buds Hindu and Muslim (Hindu-Musalman duti bhai bharater dui ankhi-tara)’.

In his Agomoni (welcome) songs, Nazrul personifies Maa Durga often addressed as Uma. She is coming home to her mother. It is a celebration. Yet, in these portrayals of innocent indulgences, Nazrul never lost sight of her greater purpose. As Mahisasurmordini, the demon slayer, she is victorious with the poet framing her arrival within the context of personal demons that propel us to choose hate over love, dogma over humanity and falsehoods over truths.

“Durga, who has become our child Uma, is, therefore, also instilling in us a sense of confidence,” explains author-mentor Devajit Bandopadhyay.

“She is the embodiment of courage to fight the demon, Mahisasur, who in the realm of our day-to-day life, represents social evils we turn a blind eye to,” says Devajit, who is also a singer and musicologist. His untiring research initiatives have unearthed a treasure trove of unpublished songs in the overarching canon of Nazrulgeeti.

Consider the Agomoni song, ‘Joy Durga, Janani, Dao Shakti’ (Hail Durga, mother, give us strength), which begins with an invocation to the goddess and continues as a prayer seeking self-belief and unfiltered knowledge. The poet pleads for the strength that comes from love and conviction and asks the goddess for help, and protective gear (kavach), so that we do not shy away from this fight to embrace truth and humanity.       

In ‘Ebar nabin mantra’ (This time, Mother, the young will pray at your unveiling), Nazrul targets divisive social customs. Rejecting class hierarchies and demolishing barriers of prejudice, he says, the youth from all over will join the welcoming of the goddess. In “Chinmoyee roop dhore aye’, he exhorts the goddess to return in person, as offerings to the idol of her likeness hasn’t quite freed us from our demons. Annapurna Ma calls upon us to light lamps of freedom amid the sounding of conch shells to herald Durga’s arrival in our “impoverished” land rendered so by colonial subjugation.

At the very core, Nazrul the poet is the embodiment of Hindu-Muslim unity. As a life-long rebel, he left behind a body of work in literature and music that’s fearless in its construct against oppression, speaking out against the colonial powers of the past and the continuing injustices of today. If Bengal is suffering from intellectual amnesia, neighbouring Bangladesh where he was declared as the National Poet is abandoning past moorings. Culture vultures are even altering lyrics of Nazrul’s songs to replace markers of faith, thereby striking at his syncretic core. Agomoni or not, Goddess Durga, worshipped and celebrated across our shared borders, has her divine task cut out. So has ‘Bidrohi Kobi’.