Dipankar Dasgupta received his early education in Calcutta (now called Kolkata), India and moved on to the University of Rochester, NY, USA, where he was awarded a PhD degree in Economics. He did most of his academic research and teaching in the Delhi and Kolkata campuses of the Indian Statistical Institute, from where he retired in August, 2006 as Professor of Economics. He has also taught and researched in visiting capacities as well as a regular faculty member in different universities in Canada, Hong Kong, Japan and the USA.
His interests vary from Economic Theory to creative literature and vocal music. He writes stories, memoirs and poems in English and Bengali and sings semi-classical music, mostly in Bengali. He is also interested in foreign languages, Japanese being his favorite. He writes for the printed media and is an occasional TV commentator on subjects of socio-economic interest. Dipankar and his wife, Sankari, live in Kolkata, India. Their son, Utteeyo, teaches Economics at the Franklin and Marshall College in Pennsylvania, USA. Utteeyo’s wife, Subha Mani, teaches Economics at Fordham University, New York City.
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Dear Oj-Kaku….
Just to let you know that I’ve visited your window and loved what I saw…. I think I shall from now onwards be a be a bit critical whenever I look into the mirror… as You’ve brought out a new perspective in “mirror looking”….
Kerman
Dear Kerman:
So nice of you to visit. The post you refer to was written in a bit of a hurry partly because I didn’t expect it to be noticed. Happy that you read it.
Best wishes.
oj-kaku
I have just emailed you OJ da.
Happy to see you have created a cozy corner for yourself. It is not so easy as it appears to be. Reminds me of a Tagore poem. Here it is in my translation.
MY LITTLE DREAMS
I do many important things
They don’t seem very difficult –
To do good to all mankind
I travel throughout the world
The crowds become bigger by the day
I have to do a lot of writing
And deliver lectures in various tongues
I also re-do many things I have already done.
I get caught in knots after knots
It’s like laying bricks on bricks
To add new wings to my house.
Some praise my works
There are others who criticize
Trusting me some come closer
While some are suspicious.
Some of the materials I use are genuine
Some of it of course is spurious
With all these
Somehow I ultimately make something.
But those little dreams
Which are very dear to my heart
They may sound very simple
But they are not really so simple –
Like the pleasure I get in music,
In the flowers’ fragrance,
Or in lazy dreams
Dreamt under the shades of a tree
At some leisure time –
It seems I can get them easily
But when I really want them
They are nowhere to be found!
In the beginning
This world was boundless and formless
With this nebulous nothing
When God in good earnest began His act of creation
His labours produced high mountains
But He got the first bunch of flowers
Only after millions of years’ dreaming.
Long have I dreamt
In a corner of this world
Left to myself I shall remain alone –
I didn’t hanker for fame or fortune
I only dreamt of a small nest of my own.
The cool shade of the tree
The gentle stream
At twilight the evening star
Beckoning me home
Near the window the flowers’ fragrance
The first light of day beyond the pond -
I longed for a little home
That surrounded by all these
Would fill up the days of my life
With joys and sorrows.
So long I desired neither fame nor fortune
But that my innermost thoughts
I may express in my own words.
As the setting sun
With the fanciful last strokes of its brush
Paints on the clouds
The picture of the dying day
I would build my world of dream
With light and shadow
And the colour and sweetness of my mind.
I longed for a little home
That surrounded by all these
Would fill up the days of my life
With joys and sorrows.
For a long time I harboured this hope in my mind
The deepest hunger of my heart
Would be satisfied at last
Not by fame or fortune
But by someone’s love –
Just lovingly calling my beloved’s name
Or holding her hand in my hand,
Sitting by her side without any reason,
When she would be away
Thinking about her sitting alone
And when she would come near
Our gleaming eyes would be anxious to say
Endless words of love –
Not fame or fortune
I only longed
That these dreams woven around my love
Would fill up the days of my life
With joys and sorrows.
———
Asha from Purabi by Rabindranath Tagore. It is a unique poem – the first two stanzas are more or less prosaic but the remaining part, in a different rhyme scheme, is unsurpassed in lyrical beauty and sweetness which is very difficult to recapture in translation.
Dear Kumud-babu:
So nice to see you here. I think we have certainly established a wave length. Or else, why would you be reminded of this fascinating poem. It speaks the truth about many like us. I am so grateful to receive this wonderful gift of a comment from you.
Dipankar
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