Wavey 2568 Share Posted July 14, 2024 Spoiler 𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓝𝓘𝓛 𝓓𝓞𝓡𝓘𝓨𝓐 ওরে নীল দরিয়া| Oh, Blue River! Amay De Re De Chhariya “Kabir! Ay! Pise jah!” Kabir quickly backed away from the starboard as his father gave him a look of slight annoyance from the front side whilst still paddling the oar. The young rascal looked down upon his sandals in embarrassment, until he heard the giggle in front of him. He quickly looked upwards at the source with a frown. “Why are you laughing? Hea?” Korravai uncovered her mouth after the giggle. Her smirk, however, did not dissipate. “You can’t swim.” She nonchalantly took a bite out of her sugarcane. The young Sagardesi widened his eyes, a gasp escaping his lips. “I-I…” He stammered before gathering his bearings, “I’m still learning! Abba is teaching me!” A chuckle escaped his father’s lips as he turned his attention from the calm sapphire hues of the Nila river to his son. “Hea. I am, but…you flail too much Kabir, like a fish on land!” The chuckle soon turned to a laugh as Korravai joined in at Kabir’s expense. The young boy merely frowned as he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest whilst turning to look away from his father and best friend. Korravai’s smirk disappeared as she glanced towards Kabir, guilt and concern now evident in her features. Perhaps she may have touched upon a sensitive subject for Kabir. She turned towards Kabir’s father, who also stopped smiling. Kabir’s father let out a sigh as he softened the pace of his rowing, letting the river’s gentle currents move the canoe. But the man did not let the silence fester. He cleared his throat as he then began to sing, his voice in tune with the gentle tropical breeze that moved along the river currents and brushed against the rice paddies. “O re nil doriya… Amay de re de chhariya.” Bondi hoiya monoa pakhi hayre… Kande roiya roiya.” Korravai took another bite out of her sugarcane. She chewed the soft, stringy texture of the sweet plant before spitting out the straws into the river. The girl stood up as she went to sit beside Kabir. Kabir, however, still looked away, albeit listening to his father’s voice. After a while the girl took a deep breath as she finally spoke. “Hey…I was just pulling your leg.” She attempted a smile. Yet, Kabir still kept his gaze away from her and upon the rice paddies beyond the river. The girl furrowed her brows. It seemed it would take more than just a few words to get Kabir to listen. A sigh escaped her lips. “I’m sorry. Thik ache? I know it’s difficult for you but…I’m sure with your abba’s help you’ll become a good sailor in no time!” Kabir remained silent for a heartbeat as he turned around to face Korravai. “That’s, if he’s around more often.” He gave a side-eye towards his father, knowing fully well his father heard his quip. Indeed the man did, but he only smiled. He turned towards Kabir as he then said, “I know, Kokkhon. I know I’m off sailing upon the seas too often. But it is our livelihood. I’ll tell you what, once the war ends, I’ll take the whole family to the ports soon, Thik ache?” Kabir sighed. The war. It did not seem to end. The river borders between Rudra and Ba’as wash with blood day by day; and rivers of Sagardes are at the center of it. From sapphire to crimson, the colors get darker and darker every night. The young rascal took a better look at his father. His beard was slightly disheveled, and he could see the gray patches on the sides of his hair. He had forgotten to apply mehndi to his hair this morning. A merchant and smuggler. Two dangerous jobs for a working class man who tried his best to avoid the Rudran search parties and navigate their ship blockades all to just feed his family and village. Two dangerous jobs that kept his wife up at night, sitting on her wooden chair by the window once all her children fell asleep, hoping to catch a glimpse of him holding his lantern as he made his way down the road and to their abode. How could he be cross with him? “If you say it, abba. I know it’s true.” Kabir’s lips finally curled into a smile, his stress and anger fading away as it was replaced by the calm aura of the serene breeze and his father’s and Korravai’s reassuring presence. “Besides!” Korravai would pipe in, “Don’t worry too much about swimming. I’ll jump in and save you before you drown! Promise!” The boy laughed in response. He pondered her promise before answering, “Promise on a sugarcane?” The girl immediately reached into the basket she had with her, offering him one of the sugarcane sticks. “Khodar Kosom.” Her smile remained upon her lips. “Bhalo.” Kabir murmured as he took the sugarcane she offered before taking a bite out of it. As they sat there, content with their sugarcanes, Kabir’s father then shouted, “I see Ilish! The fish are here!” He excitedly grabbed the net attached to the inner bow of the canoe. As he did so, he resumed his singing. “Ei na potho dhoira Ami koto je gechhi choila!” There were plenty of fish for the village. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I have gone through this path countless times… - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The bodies did not sink. They remained afloat before him, refusing to be swallowed by the dark waters. Kabir stared wide eyed with horror, forgetting that he was about to sink within the depths of the river. The rice paddies burned in the distance, the smoke seeping closer to the river deltas. The corpses from the burning village had travelled to the ends of the river by its gripping current. “A-Amma…Korravai…” He murmured out in a weakened tone of utter fear. The night was brightened by the flaming pyres of the rice paddies and the burning wooden roofs of the village in the distance. Rudra was relentless. The corrupted descendants of Radaga’s children, the ones who had gone astray from her, did not cease their objectives. But all that did not matter for Kabir. He was drowning. By the time he realized it, the water reached his nostrils. Reality soon seeped into Kabir’s vision, his fears of his mother and his best friend, still trapped within the burning village, were replaced by his realization of his body sinking further into the water. The boy found himself gasping for air, doing anything he could as he flailed about. Alas, he did not know how to swim. Kabir’s vision blurred from tears and the lack of oxygen as smoke from the burning rice paddies drew closer to him. The river would not let him go. “Kabir! Kabir!” It was a distant yet familiar voice, a male voice. It was his brother’s. “Haath de!” As if on instinct, he lifted both of his hands, hoping the owner of the voice would hold them. Hoping, it was Korravai who would hold them. But it was his brother who leaned forward from the starboard of the boat, reaching for Kabir’s arms. However, as soon as his brother caught his arms, Kabir’s vision went dark due to the lack of air in his lungs. The last thing the boy could think about, was the thought of sharing a sugarcane with his father, mother, brother, and Korravai. Spoiler OOC: This short story is an introduction to a culture I’m working on with a few friends: The Sagardesi. Although it is inspired by my ancestral culture, I’m bringing a more fantastical element to it as I incorporate it into the larger lore of LOTC and human culture within the server, primarily the Rhenyari. If you enjoyed this story and are interested in learning more about the Sagardesi culture, please let me know! I plan on publishing more works to document the lore behind this Rudran culture. The song, “Ore Nil Doriya”, is considered a modern Bengali folk music. It was composed and sung by the late Abdul Jabbar, a prominent musician born in 1938 in what was then called British Bengal. Jabbar wrote many songs and poems, especially during the Bangladesh independence movement. His outspoken support for Bangladeshi independence and his patriotic songs labeled him as a rebel by the Pakistani government at that time. Many of his works and the works of other song writers during his time are considered products of what many in Bengal consider the “Second Bengali Renaissance”. It is difficult to explain the entire history of Bengal in this one spoiler, so I will refrain from doing so. This song was written for a movie adaptation of the book Sareng Bou. The plot of the book and movie centers around a sailor’s wife who awaits day and night for her husband’s return. As the husband returns from his service, he sings this song while he makes his way back to his wife and family. Although I’m quite illiterate when it comes to reading and writing the bengali language, I’ll try my best to translate the song: “Oh blue river! Please let me go! My beloved, like a captive bird Awaits for me as she cries quietly. Oh blue river! Please let me go! My beloved, like a captive bird Awaits for me as she cries quietly. I left my loved ones on land As I sail so far away I drift further and further from my homeland I wonder what my beloved is doing Oh boatman! Please drop me on the shore I anchor from nation to nation I anchor from docks to docks I anchor from port to port But my heart’s anchor rests in my home I have gone through this path countless times Yet I know my beloved awaits for me at night She is glancing off to the distant road Oh blue river! Please let me go! My beloved, like a captive bird Awaits for me as she cries quietly. Oh blue river! Please let me go!” There are many interpretations of this song. The most prominent is that it touches upon the symbolism of water, rivers and the sea in Bangladeshi culture. Water is an integral part of Bengal due to its many streams and rivers, and its close proximity to the sea. Another theme to note is homesickness as one leaves to pursue their dreams or to defend their homeland. The song is quite popular in Bangladeshi media and most Bengalis and Bangladeshis are familiar with it. 22 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
yopplwasupxxx 5946 Share Posted July 14, 2024 very cool +1 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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