Beyond Words and Standing on Ceremony, Anjan Dutt honoured

🖊️Anuska Bagchi

The much-anticipated Kolkata literature Festival opened to an evening filled with heartfelt tributes, literature discussions, and music that resonated with nostalgia. The inauguration was marked by the traditional lighting of the lamp by eminent personalities—Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay, Anjan dutt, Palestinian-American poet Natalie Handle, Dolon Majumder (daughter of the late Samaresh Majumdar), and members of the Publishers and Booksellers Guild.

 

As the flames flickered, illuminating the stage, the festival became more than just an event—it transformed into a space of remembrance, reflection, and the promise of new literature journeys.

 

Dolon Majumder, standing before an audience that had once revered her father, spoke with quiet determination. “I can never be who my father was,” she admitted. “I am neither a writer nor an actor. But I have promised to keep his name alive as long as I breathe.” Her words, simple yet powerful, carried the weight of a legacy—a responsibility she embraced.

Illustrious author Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay, was in fact last year’s winner, shared his hope for the future of Bengali literature. “Ami je achi sheta kheyal e korche na, aste aste manush ke barta pathano holo je amio achi tomader majhe, sahitya emoni jinish.” (People may not always realize I am here, but literature has a way of reminding them that I still am.)

 

With a keen eye on the changing literary landscape, he called for young poets and writers to step forward, expressing his eagerness to see new voices shaping the future.

 

Palestinian-American poet Natalie Handle was called next to the stage, her new book was introduced at the festival. She shared her unique perspective on Kolkata, “This city is a long and infinite poem,” she expressed, capturing the essence of its chaotic beauty.

 

“In a world where we are increasingly divided, this book fair—with the noise of people and books—gives hope. What can be more than a poem but the spirit of generosity?” Her words resonated with an audience deeply familiar with Kolkata’s long standing love for literature and intellectual thought.

 

The festival also saw the launch of two highly anticipated books:

 

Samaresh Majumdar Shera Upanyash Samagra (Pratham Khand, Dwitiya Khand— Volumes 1 and 2), a collection of his best novels, released at the Patra Bharati stall, and Kalimpang-er Kechcha, a detective novel by Anjan dutt, published by Dey’s Publishing.

 

These releases marked an important moment, celebrating both the legacy of a literature giant and the creative expansion of a musician into the world of storytelling.

 

This year’s Sameresh Majumder Smriti Samman was awarded to singer-songwriter and filmmaker Anjan dutt. As he took the stage, his deep baritone voice carried both gratitude and hesitation. “I feel embarrassed,” he confessed. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this, especially from the hands of Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay.”

 

But instead of a traditional acceptance speech, dutt chose to express his emotions through music. He performed two songs, one dedicated to those lost during the COVID-19 pandemic. Among them was Samaresh Majumdar himself, who had become a close confidant of dutt’s very suddenly. “Ei pora shohore dhulo bali sharatai mekheniye boshe achi,” he sang, his voice filled with quiet sorrow. He went on to share how Samaresh Majumdar had once reassured him that his songs were, in fact, a form of literature. “He gave me the example of Rabindranath Tagore, whose songs are known worldwide,” Dutt said, recalling the encouragement that had changed his perception of his own work.

 

Dutt, known for his quick wit, lightened the mood when speaking about the character Animesh from Uttaradhikar. “Samaresh da and I both wanted me to act in it,” he joked. Then, in a spontaneous and humorous gesture, he removed his hat to reveal his bald head. “Now, I will never be able to play Animesh,” he laughed, drawing roaring laughter from the audience.

“Shopno ebar hoe jabe Bella shotti,” he sang after being urged to do so and the words echoed through the SBI auditorium. The bittersweet nostalgia of a desperate youth clinging to a telephone, waiting for an answer that never came, hung heavy in the air. The audience responded with thunderous applause—so loud it felt as if it might bring down the ceiling.

 

As the festival’s opening ceremony came to an end, dutt left the audience with a thought that lingered long after the final applause: “The highest form of art is literature.”