Proclaim. Hero.

proclaim : 1 raise my head high!

Before me bows down the Himalayan peaks!

Proclaim. Hero.

proclaim : Tearing through the sky. surpassing the moon the sun. the planets, the stars.

piercing through the earth, the heavens, the cosmos and the Almighty's throne, have I risen — I. the eternal wonder of the Creator of the universe The furious Shiva shines on my forehead like a royal medallion of Victory!

Proclaim. Hero.

proclaim ; My head Is ever held high!

Tm ever indomitable, arrogant and cruel.

Fm the Dance-king of the Day of the Doom.

I m the cyclone, the destruction!

I'm the great terror. Im the curse of the world

I'm unstoppable.

I'm smash everything Into pieces!

I'm unruly and lawless.

1 crush under my feet all the bonds, rules and disciplines!

I don't obey any laws.

I sink cargo-laden boats — I'm the torpedo.

I'm the dreadful floating mine.

I’m the destructive Dhutjatl. the sudden tempest of the summer I'm the Rebal the rebel son of the Creator of the universe!

Proclaim. Hero.

proclaim: My head is ever held high!

I'm the tempest. I'm the cyclone.

I destroy everything I find in my path.

I'm the dance-loving rhythm.

I dance to my own beats.

I'm the delight of a life of freedom.

I'm Hambeer, Chhayanat. Hindol.

I move like a flash of lightning with turns and twists.

I swing, 1 leap and frolic!

1 do whatever my heart desires.

I embrace my enemy and wrestle with death.

Fm untamed. I'm the tempest!

I'm pestilence, dread to the earth.

Fm the terminator of all reigns of terror.

Fm ever full of burning restlessness.

Proclaim. Hero.

proclaim : My head is ever held high! Fm ever uncontrollable. Irrepressible. My cup of elixir, is always full.

I'm the sacrificial Are.

Fm Yamadagni, the keeper of the sacrificial fire.

I'm the sacrifice. I'm the priest.

Fm the fire itself. (

I'm creation. I'm destruction. Fm habitation. I'm the cremation ground. Fm the end. the end of night.

Fm the son of Indreani.

with the moon in my hand and the sun on my forehead. In one hand I hold the bamboo flute, in the other, a trumpet of war.

Fm Shiva's blued-hued throat

from drinking poison from the ocean of pain.

I'm Bomkesh. the Ganges flows freely through my locks. Proclaim. Hero, proclaim : My head is ever held high!

Fm the ascetic, the minstrel,

Fm the prince, my royal garb embarrasses even the most ostentatious.

I'm Bedouin. I'm Chenghis, I salute none but myself! Fm thunder.

’ Fm the OM sound of Ishan's horn.

Fm the mighty call of Isralil s trumpet.

I'm Pinakapani's hourglass drum, trident, the sceptre of the Lord of Justice. I'm the Chakra and the Great Conch. Fm the primordial sound of the Gong! Fm the furious-Durbasha. the disciple of Viswamltra. Fm the fury of fire, to bum this earth to ashes.

I'm the ecstatic laughter, terrifying the creation.

Fm the eclipse of the twelve suns on the Day of the Doom.

Sometimes calm, sometimes wild, Fm the youth of new blood — I humble even the fate's pride! Fm the violent gust of a wind storm, the roar of the ocean.

I’m bright, effulgent.

I’m the murmur of over-flowing water.

Hindol dance of rolling waves!

I'm the unbridled hair of a maiden, the fire in her eyes.

Fm the budding romance of a girl of sixteen — I'm the state of bliss!

Fm the madness of the recluse. Fm the sigh of grief of a widow, Fm the anguish of the dejected. Fm the suffering of the homeless, Fm the pain of the humiliated. Fm the afflicted heart of the lovesick. Fm the trembling passion of the first kiss, the fleeting glance of the secret lover. I’m the love of a restless girl, the jingling music of her bangles!

I'm the eternal child, the eternal adolescent.

Fm the bashfulness of a village girl's budding youth.

I'm the northern breeze, the southern breeze, the callous eastwind.

Fm the minstrel's song, the music of his flute and lyre. Fm the unquenched summer thirst, the scorching rays of the sun.

I'm the softly flowing desert spring and the green oasis! $

In ecstatic joy. in madness. ” I've suddenly realized myself — all the barriers have crumbled away!

I'm the rise. Fm the fall.

I'm the consciousness in the unconscious mind.

I'm the flag of triumph at the gate of the universe — the triumph of humanity!

Like a tempest

I traverse the heaven and earth

riding Uchchalsraba and the mighty Borrak.

I’m the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth, the wildest commotion of the subterranean ocean of fire ■ I ride on lightning and panic the world with earthquakes!

I clasp the hood of the Snake-king and the fiery wing of the angel Gabriel. Fm the child-divine — restless and defiant. With may teeth I tear apart the skirt of Mother Earth!

I'm Orpheus’ flute.

I calm the restless ocean and bring sleep to the fevered world with a kiss of my melody.

I'm the flute in the hands of Shyam.

When I fly into a rage and traverse the vast sky, the fires of Seven Hells tremble In fear and die. Fm the messenger of revolt across the earth and the sky Fm the mighty flood.

Sometimes 1 bring blessings to the earth, at other tiqjes. cause colossal damage. I wrestle away the twin daughters from Vishnu's bosom! /incomplete)

Excerpts from Sayed Kamal's translation.

and the poor all over the world.

Nazrul's internationalism and humanism made him stand against yet another evil of colonialism and

imperlalism.namely.com-munalUm and fundamentalism. He could say strongly: "You are not a Brahmin, not a Sudra. nor a Hindu, nor a Muslim; you are a human being, that is the truth". This typical Lalonesque response of Nazrul to man naturally brought him into sharp conflicts with the culture of fatwatsm drawing its energy and inspiration from shostras. from religious texts which were then used to undermine men and women quite conveniently in a society that was feudal and colonial. For Nazrul. as he himself mentioned, shas-tras are not prior to man, but man brings shastras themselves. It was Nazrul who, perhaps most strongly. unearthed the dirt and desist of shas-trawallahs who were called by Nazrul "shastralcoholics". In fact, according to Nazrul. the-seshastrawallahs made wine out of the Quran. the Vedas. the Bible, also turning these texts into a form of trade-capital. And Nazrul stood against this feudal-colonial culture of fundamentalism and fatwabqfl which is always inimical to the freedom and growth of man.

Nazrul consistently made the point clear in a number of his works that God and religion do not reside in mosques or In temples, but in man himself — in his heart, in his work, in his love, fn his songs, in his struggle for unity.

3

Colonialism in the physical-geographical sense came to an end earlier, but it has redrawn its map. extending Itself more subtly and effectively Into this part of the world. The feudal relations pf production had already been dissolved no doubt; but the accompanying super-structural changes have not yet taken any final shape in that the remnants of feudalism still persist with their force and fury. Capital, which comes "dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt", is Increasingly' replacing man by profit. On the other hand, fundamentalism is posing deadliest threats to man's freedom and creativity. Against such a scenario where the oppressed sigh and cry and die. the Rebel in Nazrul with his poetics and politics of opposition and resistance increasingly assumes his significance, his contemporaneity, and a humanistic appeal. Indeed. to pay tribute to Nazrul Islam is to remain uncompromisingly involved In the struggle for man's freedom.