In the time of goats and Russell's Vipers

Let's not forget that "Meghe Dhaka Tara" (The Cloud-Capped Star) is a film. The original story is by Shaktipada Rajguru. 

He wrote over a hundred books, the most popular being "Meghe Dhaka Tara". This was Ritwik Ghatak's fourth film and his first commercial success.

Reversing the phrase "Meghe Dhaka Tara" gives "Tara Dhaka Megh," a poetic expression rather than prose. Poetry, after all, is about capturing emotions. In Joy Goswami's poem "Dui Boner Kobita" (The Poem of Two Sisters), he "experimented" with such expressions. The poem, however, carries a humorous tone:

"Stars hidden by clouds, clouds hiding stars,

They moved into the house next door.

How much advance? What's the rent monthly?

A one-story house, a neighbourhood colony,

When Father leaves for work at dawn,

Guards the house mother's gentle protection."

But in our lives, where's the time for humour and poetry?

We're busy with goats, especially when a goat costs Tk15 lakh. The dog in pundit mashai's story had three legs. This goat has four, all intact. If calculating how many months of our salaries equal the cost of one leg of the goat, where's the time for poetry reading?

So, we sat down to do the math. We sit, but we can't solve it. For instance, today all journalists gathered at the Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC). Former IGP Benazir Ahmed was expected to appear. Despite waiting all day, he did not show up.

In terms of physics, this is a waste of effort. Not in math either. As Tagore wrote in rhyme:

"Bholanath wrote three times four is ninety,

And lost marks in math wholly."

Or as the 16th-century poet Gyandas wrote:

"For the sake of happiness,

I built this home,

It burnt down in the fire.

To bathe in the nectar ocean,

All turned to poison."

Is it just the journalists for whom all turns to poison? The ACC officials waited all day as well. After all, it's their job. Waiting, clouds gathered, and it rained. But the bird did not return to its nest. Thus, the stars were obscured by clouds, or clouds by stars. And then the ACC waited by the door, as Tagore wrote:

"Clouds upon clouds gather,

Darkness comes,

Why keep me waiting alone by the door?

In the days of work, amidst many,

Today I sit alone in your promise."

Journalists knew beforehand that promises wouldn't be kept. Yet, they went there proactively. Indeed, they were proactive. Despite receiving an almost thousand-word message from the Police Association on how to conduct journalism, they couldn't resist the lure of the news.

Despite the Police Association's statement on adhering to rules and ethics in journalism, journalists are not only looking for news. The Journalist Union, Reporters Unity and Broadcast Journalists Center are showing the courage to issue counter-statements. These journalists must be disconnected from some spirits to have such courage!

Luckily, the Revenue Association has not yet issued any statement. Given the way journalists are reporting on Matiur Rahman being made OSD (Officer on Special Duty), losing his position as a director of Sonali Bank, and the ACC's investigation following his son's goat-buying scandal, they might come up with a new spirit to teach journalism.

The problem is that journalists ask questions. Journalists uncover the truth. Journalists are always awake. As Jibanananda Das said:

"When those stars are awake, you are awake,

Turning to them—

The sky burning, with the emotion of the mind,

You are awake;

You have known a certainty—become certain."

Journalism and journalists provide that certainty where human-shaped Russell's Vipers cannot spread. Journalism also exposes all the lies about Russell's Vipers. Honest officers need not fear honest journalism. Those who fear have reasons to fear. But it's not that there aren't Russell's Vipers among journalists either.

The fact that journalists can criticise themselves, speak openly is the strength of journalism. That's why journalists have no friends. A journalist shouldn't have friends either. If they do, there will be many obstacles. Journalists are willing to lose friends, even institutional ones. So, borrowing again from Joy Goswami's poem:

"Faces once seen, now unseen,

Friends of yesterday, today estranged.

No one gathers in groups anymore,

Only the lonely await the path.

Stars hidden by clouds, clouds hiding stars."