Cannes and the RayGore Curse

Kolkata: The dashing Napoleon had arguably called the English, of those times, a nation of shopkeepers. The Bengali of the present day can equally arguably be termed as a community of interpreters. Which can well be explained by digging deeper into the RayGore Curse, Satyajit Ray and Rabindranath Tagore, the articulate points of origin.

The month of May is, anyway, an ideal time to reflect on this peculiar occurrence. May 2 is the birthday of Ray, and May 9, the equivalent of Tagore, and in tandem, a period of much cerebral and cultural significance for this ethnicity. This year, the screening of Ray's 'Aranyer Din Ratri' (1970) at the Cannes Film Festival, in spring cleaned regalia, adds to the calendar credibility.

Two surviving cast members, Sharmila Tagore and Simi Garewal, were physically present at the screening to a minute, analytical audience. Tagore, understandably, was a key posthumous collaborator of Ray, for stories and songs, with Sharmila, incidentally, belonging to the polymath's lineage.

However, while both Tagore and Ray are global luminaries, their primary port of call remains the Indian Bengali and not even the 'Indian' beyond the state's lingua-cultural boundaries. In spite of being prolific world-leading doers, with an assembly line as distinguished as critical prowess, stretched to capacity.

Tagore is responsible for more than 2,200 unique pieces of Rabindrasangeet, in cahoots with novels, poetry, dance dramas and art.

Ray directed 36 exceptional feature films in a creative ensemble consisting of iconic mass literature and graphic design. While one was a Nobel Prize winner, the other received an Honorary Oscar, thus peaking in global domain recognition. Unique talent that was uniquely honoured.

So, how exactly can such luminaries be the perpetrators of the RayGore Curse? The answer lies in the curious emotional constituency of the recipient, the Bengali.

India is home to nearly 100 million Bengalis, contributing to nearly 9 per cent of the population. More than 20 per cent live outside Bengal, and a sizeable number contribute to the booming Indian diaspora. Intellectually alive and professionally competent, the community is noted for a 'Worldview before Wallet' mindset, that is finally veering towards a counterintuitive but timely affection for affluence.

This change is largely being driven by the emerging classes, upgraders like every other part of India, with limited appreciation of heroic heritage. While those of copybook lineage are delighted to remain lifelong interpreters of creations that are seemingly cast in stone.

So here's the 'problem' definition. Instead of considering Ray and Tagore to be glorious inspirations for continual betterment, they are feted as deities who cannot be emulated, let alone surpassed. Thus, creativity is focused on squabbling over 'interpretation' as even the finest minds are in reverence mode, unable to break the GOAT Ceiling. As is the audience, who seems to be stuck in a perpetual time machine, considering the living to be shallow mortals, existing merely to serve the timeless RayGore cause, never to violate the Line of Control.

Ray's iconic Feluda series is a live use case. Sandip Ray, the maestro's copyright-wielding son, chooses to convert stories to films when in the mood. His interpretations are inarguably diminished compared to his accomplished parent, yet the knowing audience has an unquenchable thirst. Even Srijit Mukherjee, a prolific new age director, does digital-only takes on the detective to secure his reservation in posterity.

Ray's creations, including magazine graphic art, are positioned on a celestial footing, the significant others over the ages clearly not in the Premier League. A few filmmakers, especially Rituparno Ghosh, have occasionally earned an extra-sensorial upgrade, but none dare qualify for Hall of Fame induction.

In the meanwhile, new age characters try manfully to compete, but the customer referencing is always Feluda and his quasi-slapstick ally Jatayu. Eccentric sleuth Eken Babu remains an entertaining and intrusive intruder in the heavenly repertoire of Bishop Lefroy Road, Ray's home and world. While Byomkesh Bakshi is now a Bollywood expat, thereby worthy of cultural expulsion.

Tagore's work is driven even farther by this culture of nagging interpretation. Rabindrasangeet has its ever-expanding panel of worthies, and even those who thrive in the Pop Culture or Classical domain must gingerly venture to this hallowed turf, as proof of pedigree. Arijit Singh, Shreya Ghoshal, Rashid Khan and Kaushiki Chakraborty are just a few jewels in an expanding crown. Quite like a master chef of North Indian cuisine being judged for the pedigree of the Dal Makhni, however accomplished the biryani and kebabs. Other niche genres thrive, whether Kazi Nazrul Islam or DL Ray, but Rabindrasangeet is utterly Himalayan.

Over the years, inspired by Dylan in particular, popular forms of music have emerged. Jibonmukhi and Modern Baul amongst notable others, and the array of Bengali bands with their signature creations. Bhoomi, Chandrabindoo, Rupam Islam and Kabir Suman have a delirious crowd following, while operating always at a deliberate distance from Rabindrasangeet, as if QSR offerings never dare to aspire for Michelin Star Fine Dining. The same is true for Tagore's poetry, prose and drama - his compilations are considered to be nothing short of The Louvre, more of an absolute shrine than an innovation source code.

Whether creators or fans, Bengalis are too busy interpreting the great masters in their respective domains. RayGore is just the beginning of this life-diminishing pattern. Dr BC Roy ( physician and politician), Uttam-Suchitra, Satyen Bose, Sir Biren Mukherjee, PC Sorcar and a whole bunch of multi-sectoral legends seemingly unreplicable in their craft, chosenly distant from being a throbbing inspiration.

This is not quite the story in other parts of the nation or the universe. Be it the Ambanis and Wadias or the Reddys and Nambiars. The entire tech development culture in Silicon Valley and elsewhere is built on the relay race, wherein today's sublime benchmark becomes the starting point for tomorrow's blockbuster.

It is a valid question as to why this happens, amongst an otherwise erudite population. Perhaps erudition is the chief culprit and not a defence mechanism, as a love for overthinking leads to a rationale for irrationality. The celebration of icons is institutionalised in society, and when merged with an incurable streak of judgement and a dominating strain of laziness, magic 'does not' happen. We are conditioned to believe that greatness is an absolute and immortal virtue, beyond the territory of the living.

This pattern is consistently articulated in many successful families, wherein the patriarch of yore has performed magnificent feats. Subsequently cherished as spoils of fixed deposits and prestigious housing, wherever applicable, or simply as an indelible halo. Self-proclaimed lesser heirs serving by saluting and remembering, and not doing and surpassing. Exactly why the next wave of development in this region is coming from first generational achievers, inspired by a new age India Growth Story and not having any family heirlooms as collateral burden.

Can the RayGore Curse ever be extinguished? Perhaps the tech-enabled creative and business universe can be a suitable inspiration, with spontaneous entrepreneurship overshadowing traditional hierarchies. Where intellect operates at optimal capacity, useful only as an aid to a successful business outcome and not armchair complications.

Most importantly, the multi-generational success formula of the Marwari can be adapted by the Bengali - how to build community values and business glories as parallel yet empathetic paths, neither infringing on the core of the other. Clearly, a hybrid solution is in order, as influences are rapidly democratised.

Ray and Tagore are indeed all-time greats and societal game changers. However, they belong best as continuing inspirations for creators and not static symbolism for interpreters. In order to curate many an encore, to enrich both community and civilisation. Indeed, a lot more to do with 'can' and not 'Cannes'.