"The caged bird has flown away": Farewell to Lalon geeti pioneer Farida Parveen

Birds take flight without anyone knowing, no one senses it. Just a gust of bad wind against the cage, and its wings are set free into the endless sky.

In just that way departed the legendary devotee of Lalon’s songs, Farida Parveen – in whose voice generation after generation recognised Sai Ji Lalon, and grasped the song of the soul.

With her passing, an unseen stream of melody seems to have come to a standstill. As though breaking the door of a locked room, the caged bird has flown away – this time for real.

She was not merely a singer, she was a guiding devotee’s voice. In her voice lived Mahatma Lalon. In her tunes resonated the essence of philosophy.

I had the fortune to see her closely twice and speak with her. The first time, though briefly, was at the ‘Lalon Festival’ organised at Shilpakala Academy, where I spent some time in her presence. It was an unforgettable experience. Her ailing body, weary face, broken voice – somehow she was standing. Yet she climbed the stage and gave a short speech in her frail tone. As the office assignment meant I had to return late, I was leaving before the songs began. But then her voice suddenly pulled me back, I returned and sat down again. Once the singing began, the broken voice was gone – as though the rich, taut melody had returned, the one I had heard since childhood. The song began to carry us gently along. Past the event, past time, past the drowsy city in a rickshaw… that melody still lingered in my ears on the way back, far into the night… Farida Parveen was singing in that familiar voice of Sai Ji:

“Whose guru is a true man of devotion,
All his spiritual practice finds fulfilment,
Be it river or lake or swamp or canal,
Everywhere it is the same one water...”

In childhood, to know Farida Parveen was to know Lalon. Songs like Arshi Nagar, Speak the truth, walk the right path, O my mind, When time has passed there will be no more chance of practice, or I sit in endless vastness, The unknown bird in the cage, When will union come, Take me across to the other shore – these were not merely music, they were the beginning of self-questioning. Farida Parveen did not only embody Lalon in song, she made him into a philosophy of life. Thus calling her the daughter of Lalon may sound poetic, but in truth it was her real identity.

The second time was when she came to our newspaper office to give an interview (probably her last interview). I had thought then I would recite a few lines from I sit in endless vastness – what I had absorbed from hearing her own voice. But standing before her, I could not muster the courage.

Today, with her passing, I feel it would have done no harm had I dared to speak a little to her.

Farida Parveen sang songs of life’s wisdom with profound tenderness. Not only Lalon songs, she was unparalleled also in folk songs, patriotic songs, Nazrul’s songs. She sang modern songs too. By embracing Lalon she too sang the triumph of humanity. In her songs, in her way of life, appeared the unity and universal consciousness found in Lalon’s songs. Lalon would say, everywhere there is but one ‘Man’ of mankind; he sang of the triumph of humanity. And Farida Parveen, through her songs, sought to reveal that very Man to us.

She was not just an artiste, she was a unique bearer and carrier of music.

On the map of Bangla folk music, she will remain a bright, unique star, whose lamp of life has gone out, but whose warmth of light will linger for many days, many years. Whenever we hear Lalon again, or folk songs, Farida Parveen’s voice will return to our ears. For she gave us not only songs, but a spiritual connection.

Where the questions at the root of Baul philosophy peer out: Who are you? From where have you come? Where will you go?

She may have gone, but she has shown us the path of seeking answers.

Farewell, the 'daughter of Lalon', your songs, your philosophy, your soulful melody will live within us – as long as Bengal’s soil exists, as long as the human heart beats.