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A happy new year.
Shubho Noboborsho. Happy New Year.
Festivals help us step out of the mundane and communicate. By projecting mirrors they guide reflections on our conventional and unconventional behaviours, linking comfort and mystery to help us experience places, spaces, identities and relationships (Weiss, 2007).
Pohela Boishak is the first day of the Bengali New Year. For our calendars that’s the 14th of April every year. In essence, like the first day of the year in most calendars, the day is celebrated by Bengalis across the world.
Whether it’s the UNESCO recognized Mangal Shobhajatra (rally for wellbeing) echoing across the grounds of Dhaka University, or a group of friends getting together for some adda in Bangladeshi attire, the feeling remains mutual.
A little history
Linked to ancient harvest calendars, the plan was to promote land tax collection by tying the official calendar to agricultural cycles. The better the weather, the more you earn, the more you dished out to the Mughals and the happier Akbar (and other royals) became. Little did the economists and astronomers know that their field day out would turn into such a vibe. Centuries after the introduction of the Gregorian calendar during colonial rule, Pohela Boishakh remains to be the largest cultural celebration in Bangladesh every year.
The vibe
Chhayanaut, a cultural organization dedicated to Rabindranath Tagore initiates the day with a symbolic performance under a tall banyan tree in Dhaka city’s Ramna Park. Reminding us of the very performance they organized in protest to the banning of Tagore songs on religious grounds in Pakistani-Bangladesh back in time. Precisely, at dawn musicians sing the Tagore song, Esho he Boishakh to welcome the first month, Boishakh, of the new year.
Artists paint the backdrop while micro businesses run the show. From the handicraft sold at melas (traditional fairs) to the exquisite food offerings that we will momentarily get into, tradesmen from all walks of life showcase a piece of themselves along the grounds of the University of Dhaka. Forward, backward, left or right Dhakaiyas draped in red and white force the ultimate homogeneity among a heterogeneous crowd.
Away from the colours, businesses urban and rural practice the closing of their haal kathas (accounting books) and opening a new one for the next year. Debts are more commonly forgiven than accounted for as business owners look towards a fresh new start.
Back in Dhaka University, the Mongol Subhojatra — a rally organized by the Fine Arts Department — roars across the grounds. Showcasing ethnic art and craft, with gigantic floats of animals, motifs dancing in the air. The tradition dates back to 1989 when military-rule weary students, created a channel to spread hope. Since then the Department continues to put on this terrific show every year. The rally symbolizes our “pride in folk heritage, strength and courage to fight against sinister forces, and our personal vindications of truth and justice” — affirming our quest for “solidarity and a shared value for democracy” and uniting people from every walk and feel of life.
As the sun breaks, the scent of food strolls into the atmosphere. From the simplest smells of mustard oil binding puffed rice, tomatoes and more together, to the complex smells of roasted herbs and vegetables mashed to perfection (bhortas), it all rises to an unforgettable crescendo. In-between the madness a large plate of Panta — fried Hilsha (or herring) fish on a bed of rice soaked in lime, salt and chilli infused water is undoubtedly the showstopper.
With rice at the tail-end of every outing in Bangladesh, the Panta signals the curtain call for the outing. As the sun glides west and the southern breeze picks up, cameras become phones again. Part two sets in motion. Parents are figuring out their evening plans or trying to convince you to hang with them in case they were late to the party this year. Yet, you are on your own mission, waiting to see your friends, perhaps a special someone or catching up with cousins who forgot how tall you really are.
A renaissance
On celebrating Pohela Boishakh differently every year: When we think about the Chinese New Year in San Francisco or St. Patrick’s Day in Kingston, Ontario — we are quick to conjure up vivid images in our minds. Yet, it feels a bit different when painting those days in Beijing or Ireland.
The silver lining takes us back to the melting pot. And it’s not easy to keep up with tradition, when you are a million miles away. And it’s difficult to think about how you should be feeling. And it takes decades to transform dinner table nostalgia into a shared celebration. But eventually it works. The Mongol Shobohjatra rally, becomes a picnic in ethnic wear in Central Park, New York and your afternoon escape takes place on an overdressed patio table at a chic Toronto cocktail bar. And we welcome in new ideas and new identities, inviting capitalism into it as well. Yes, capitalism like the Alaskan Airlines sponsored the parade in San Fran this year. And traditions change. And that’s when cities get interesting.
To put all of this into perspective, in the run up to Pohela Boishakh, a few of my friends asked me if we are escaping to Bangladesh on April 14th this year. Exhausted, I said it’s a long weekend, I am sure we’ll figure something out. But before you know it, I was counting people on an app that keeps me up every night. And before they knew it, I picked up meat and spices from a Bengali grocery store that was not near. Within a day we had a plan in place, with three of my friends on the phone planning out a menu of sorts for a pre-soiree dinner to ring in the new year.
The rest could be explained better in photographs.
So we went to a party and took some photographs.
Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how immigrants explore their evolving identity on days like this. On the day of — it seems my friends across the world had similar plans. Each of us subconsciously playing a small part in recreating our own philosophy — and it included switching between accents, creating a playlist, figuring out captions and measuring the distance from home. And as we kept scrolling up our timelines with our thumbs, questions on how the celebrations have changed over the years painted the backdrop in our minds. And that’s the deadly beauty of renaissance, an explosion of new thoughts, feelings and ideas — coming together in too many shapes and forms. But of course underneath it all remained the purpose.
Public policy
And I would be remiss if I couldn’t tie purpose back to policy in one of my articles. There’s a reason why we receive the St. Patrick’s Day and more recently, the Chinese New Year e-mails at work. Decades of cultural expression helped those ideas barge into corporate boardrooms where leaders discussed social responsibilities. Millions of identities were questioned throughout the process of re-creating something old, somewhere new.
Purpose plays a part in policy. And indeed it did when Chinese Americans sat around each other at tables during the California Gold Rush — to ring in their very own new year. And indeed it will as Bangladeshis across the world do the same. And somewhere in between, these photos of Pohela Boishakh made it into timelines featuring Easter and Passover this year. And perhaps after skimming through this page, we will also get a wish from our colleagues next year. Or the year after. Or another two years down.
Then there’s money. And culture is hard to preserve without money. While we have created fantastic avenues to support artists and community builders in Western societies — even in the spirit of Black Lives Matter and Stopping Asian Hate, we continue to lack equity in cultural resourcing. Perhaps these things take a reckoning — or perhaps educating each other can pave the passage. Take for instance, The Canada Fund for Local Initiatives — Bangladesh (2022) perhaps under the thematic priorities we can work in a bullet — for arts, culture or (even) food, in a couple of years.
And finally, there’s communication, perhaps governments and politicians across all three levels could spare an informative social media post to mark the Bengali New Year! And it made me smile to see some of that this year.
The Twenties
Someone once said that a decade starts to take its shape two or three years in. While the beginning of this one will remain unforgettable for reasons we want to forget — I think we’ll see a new dimension of culturalism sprawling across the world. As we navigate a new normal where attention spans expire after a couple of short seconds, we will inevitably find it difficult to preserve our own. At the same time, it will get easier and easier to share more about ourselves with the world.
We are getting there. Bangladeshis all over the world have turned up the volume on who we are. Our musicians are conjuring up the sounds of tomorrow and our artists are completing their brushstrokes online. We have influencers zoning in on sex, gender and South Asian hate, and writers feeling the weight of their pens. And I don’t think anyone has asked me if I am Indian this year.
And I hope we can figure out better ways to support and express our evolving identities. United in hope and purpose, just like those early years.
And it finally feels like the twenties are roaring once again.
And I am positive it will be a happy new year.