Nabaneeta Deb Sen, a major author, educator and feminist torch bearer passed away today in Kolkata, India. She was 81.
In my discussions on Journalism of Exclusion, I have elucidated how Western media have ignored contributions of authors, poets, scientists, artists and social reformers from India, Africa, Latin America, and other “Third World” countries. Exclusion from public awareness personalities from what they consider “uncivilized and primitive” places — especially in this day of globalization — is pathetic. The vast majority of Americans and Europeans are simply kept in dark about the vibrant humanity and achievements from the “unknown” places. Euro-American media and have thus deliberately created a cultural hegemony.
Even though in recent years, a couple of literary figures from Latin America and Africa have received their long-overdue recognition through accolades (Mario Vargas Llosa from Peru and Mo Yan from China got Nobel), especially I regret to see blanket exclusion of Indian and Bengali writers. Yet, no country can claim that it was built on a language movement: Bangladesh is the only exception. Thousands of people have gave their lives to preserve their language and culture, and an entire war was fought and won by Bengalis on the issue of language.
Nabaneeta came from the land of undivided Bengal — a place that keeps producing unbelievably rich artists, musicians, poets and authors. But Western media and establishments do not have time or desire to pay attention.
With her passing, we Bengalis lost a literary pioneer.
(A new, original series of articles — exclusively for Humanity College)
Part 1 ______________________________________
Hope you join us on this discussion. You can write in any language. _______________________________
Rabindranath Tagore (or, for a non-Indian audience, let’s make it simpler: Rabindra Nath Tagore) was born in the city of Calcutta (now called Kolkata) in 1861, and died in the same city in 1941.
A few years ago, many of us celebrated his 150th birthday. So, he is old. Very, very old.
Yet, he is new, modern, and contemporary. He is unbelievably relevant even today, in 2019. That is his brilliance. That is his genius.
I am not a big scholar, and do not know a lot of such names from various corners of the world — who can be put on the list of such rare personalities. With my limited knowledge and understanding, I can mention Charlie Chaplin, Picasso, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Victor Hugo, Tolstoy, Sartre, Bertrand Russell, or Mark Twain — who would perhaps feature such a list of genius literary, philosophical and artistic creators whose work is equally alive and pertinent in this millennium.
But I don’t know — can we name only one person who would be called a genius literary figure, as well as a genius philosopher, and a genius social reformer?
Honestly, other than Chaplin, I have not studied the personalities I’ve mentioned above. And I am sure I have missed some names that I should have mentioned. But I have studied Tagore somewhat extensively. With my limited ability, I have translated some of his poetry and songs, spoke and wrote about him at various media and forums (including Humanity College blog), and even dared to record some of his songs on a CD.
My family and I grew up in Kolkata, Bengal and India in an artistic and intellectual environment that was greatly influenced by Tagore and his followers. I know for the fact that millions of people both in India and Bangladesh have grown up in that cultural tradition.
In case you are not aware of it, national anthems of both India and Bangladesh are Tagore’s songs. But this is only a tiny measure of his influence on us.
मानवाधिकारों के लिए समर्पित एक भारतीय-अमेरिकी लेखक पार्थ बनर्जी से मुलाकात
डॉ पार्थ बनर्जी, मानवाधिकार कार्यकर्ता, लेखक, शिक्षक, मीडिया समीक्षक और संगीतकार हैं. कोलकाता में पले-बढ़े, पर कुछ दशकों से अमेरिका में रह रहे हैं. बंगला कहानियों के अपने अंग्रेजी में छपे संकलन ‘म्युजिक बॉक्स एंड मूनशाइन’ के लोकार्पण के सिलसिले में जब वह दिल्ली में थे, तो साहित्य आजतक ने उनसे बातचीत की.
डॉ पार्थ बनर्जी, भारतीय अमेरिकी लेखक – मानवाधिकार कार्यकर्ता
पार्थ बनर्जी…परिचय जानने के लिए गूगल पर सर्च करने पर कई पेज खुलते हैं. इंटरनेट पर इस नाम के लोगों की भरमार है. इसमें से कई लोग तो अमेरिका में भी रहते हैं. पर जो पहला पेज खुलता है विकीपीडिया का, उसकी पहली पंक्ति कुछ इस तरह है. डॉ पार्थ बनर्जी, मानवाधिकार कार्यकर्ता, लेखक, शिक्षक, मीडिया समीक्षक और संगीतकार. कोलकाता में पले-बढ़े, अभी न्यूयॉर्क में रहते हैं और भारत की लगातार यात्राएं करते रहते हैं. इसके बाद उनका एक लंबा परिचय है.
पार्थ बनर्जी कोलकाता में पलेबढ़े. पिता जितेंद्र नाथ बनर्जी राष्ट्रीय स्वयं सेवक संघ के जमीनी कार्यकर्ता थे और उसकी राजनीतिक शाखा जनसंघ, जो अब भारतीय जनता पार्टी के रूप में देश पर शासन कर रही है, से जुड़े थे. पार्थ बनर्जी को पहली सियासी शिक्षा अपने पिता से ही मिली. बाद में अपने मामा बुद्धदेव भट्टाचार्जी के प्रभाव में वह कांग्रेस की तरफ झुके.
कॉलेज की शुरुआती पढ़ाई पूरी करने के बाद वह पश्चिम बंगाल के एक छोटे से गंवई स्कूल में चार साल तक पढ़ाया. बाद में साल 1985 में वह जैविक विज्ञान में शोध के लिए अमेरिका चले गए. वहीं उन्होंने इलीनॉयस स्टेट यूनिवर्सिटी से प्लांट बायोलॉजी में स्नातकोत्तर की दूसरी डिग्री हासिल की. साल 1992 में उन्होंने साउदर्न इलीनॉयस यूनिवर्सिटी से पीएचडी की डिग्री ली. इसके बाद वह एल्बनी में पोस्ट डॉक्टरल रिसर्च साइंटिस्ट के तौर पर काम करने लगे.
साल 1999 में डॉ पार्थ बनर्जी ने विज्ञान का अपना करियर छोड़ दिया और तीसरी मास्टर डिग्री के लिए कोलंबिया यूनिवर्सिटी के ग्रेजुएट स्कूल ऑफ जर्नलिज्म में दाखिला ले लिया. अमेरिकन मीडिया और एथिक्स की समझ के लिए यहां उन्हें प्रतिष्ठित सेवेलॉन ब्राउन अवार्ड से सम्मानित किया गया. यहीं से वह स्क्रिप्स हॉवर्ड फेलोशिप के तहत अन्य साथी छात्रों के साथ इजराइल, फिलिस्तीन और जॉर्डन गए, उस इलाके में धार्मिक व्यवहार के अध्ययन के लिए.
इस दौरान मीडिया में किए गए अपने योगदान के लिए वह इंडिपेंडेंट प्रेस असोसिएशन और इमीग्रेंट सेविंग बैंक अवार्ड से भी नवाजे गए. उन्होंने एबीसी, न्यूयॉर्क टाइम्स, सीएनएन, द प्रोग्रेसिव के अलावा भारत और बंगलादेश में भी कई पत्रपत्रिकाओं में लिखा. नोम चोमस्की के साथ उनका साक्षात्कार काफी चर्चित रहा.
पर मुख्यधारा की मीडिया में पूंजी के बढ़ते प्रभाव व दुनिया भर में विस्थापितों की सम्स्या को देखते हुए वह अध्यापन गतिविधियों की तरफ मुड़ गए. एक विज्ञान पत्रकार, सामाजिक लेखक, मानवाधिकार कार्यकर्ता, शिक्षक, श्रमिक अधिकारों के समर्थक और विस्थापन विषयों के विशेषज्ञ के रूप में उन्होंने दुनियाभर में अपनी पहचान बनाई है.
वह अंग्रेजी और बंगला के चर्चित लेखक हैं. उनके संस्मरण बंगला में घोटीकहिनी नाम से छपा. रवींद्र संगीत पर उनका अलबम भी आ चुका है. पार्थ बनर्जी अभी पिछले दिनों दिल्ली आए थे, अपनी बंगला कहानियों के अंग्रेजी में छपे संकलन ‘म्युजिक बॉक्स एंड मूनशाइन’ के लोकार्पण के सिलसिले में. इस किताब को रुब्रिक पब्लिशिंग ने छापा है और इसमें बंकिम चंद चट्टोपाध्याय से लेकर सुनील गांगुली तक कुल 18 सहित्यकारों की कहानियां हैं. साहित्य आजतक ने इस अवसर का लाभ उठाते हुए पार्थ बनर्जी से अनौपचारिक बातचीत की.
यह पूछे जाने पर कि विज्ञान, उद्योग, शिक्षा और अब साहित्य, आपने हर समय जीवन में अलग-अलग क्षेत्र चुने, कोई वजह? पार्थ बनर्जी का जवाब था कि हर उम्र व क्षेत्र में सीखने के कई मौके हैं. एक तरह से व्यापक शिक्षा के कई स्तर….अपने अनुभवों से मैं वर्तमान शिक्षा पद्धति में हर स्तर पर बदलाव का हिमायती हूं. अपने जीवन से मैंने उदाहरण प्रस्तुत करने की एक कोशिश की है.
यह पूछे जाने पर कि आप तो एक शिक्षाविद हैं. फिर आपको साहित्य से जुड़ने, वह भी बंगला कहानियों का संकलन कर उनके अंग्रेजी अनुवाद की आवश्यकता क्यों महसूस हुई. इसकी कोई खास वजह? पार्थ बनर्जी का त्वरित जवाब था क्योंकि मैं इस काम को साम्राज्यवाद विरोधी सांस्कृतिक प्रतिरोध आंदोलन कहता हूं. अगर मुझे हिंदी या तमिल भाषाओं की इतनी समझ होती तो मैं इन भाषाओं में भी यही काम करता.
इस सवाल पर कि आपका यह बंगला संकलन अब अंग्रेजी में भी है, आपको अपने इस संकलन ‘म्युजिक बॉक्स एंड मूनशाइन’ की कहानियों में से किस लेखक की कौन सी कहानी अधिक पसंद आई? पार्थ बनर्जी का जवाब था, यों तो सभी कहानियों की अपनी खासियत है, पर टैगोर की कहानी ‘एक पत्नी का पत्र’, विभूति भूषण बंदोपाध्याय की कहानी ‘पानी का झोंका’, सैयद मुज़्तबा अली की कहानी ‘नून पानी’ सबसे अच्छी लगीं.
बंगाल के अपने अनुभवों के बाद पार्थ बनर्जी अमेरिका के अपने अनुभवों पर भी एक किताब लिख रहे हैं. उनका मानना है कि जलवायु परिवर्तन, अंधाधुंध कमाई और संपत्ति संबंधी असमानताएं दुनिया के समक्ष सबसे बड़ी चुनौती है, जिसके समाधान के लिए वैसे तो काफी देर हो चुकी है, फिर भी अगर मानवता और जीवन को बचाना है तो इस दिशा में तुरंत प्रयास किए जाने चाहिए..
आपके पास राष्ट्रीय स्वयंसेवक संघ, वामपंथी संगठन, अमेरिका की पूंजीवादी नीतियों सहित नोम चोमस्की के काम का विस्तृत अनुभव है? आपकी नजर में दुनिया के सामने इस समय सबसे बड़ा खतरा क्या है? और क्या साहित्य के पास इसे सुलझाने की क्षमता है? पर उनका जवाब था दुनिया की सबसे बड़ी समस्या जलवायु परिवर्तन, संपत्ति असंतुलन और एकतरफा ऐतिहासिक आय है. इसका समाधान न ढूंढा गया तो दुनिया और मानव सभ्यता को विनष्ट होने से नहीं बचाया जा सकता.
Last year, on this Diwali night, I wrote a reminiscence from my beautiful days in Calcutta — with memories of my childhood friends, firecrackers, clay lamps and all. It was a little on the sentimental side, however real and raw the emotion was. I guess, I was missing Diwali and our worship of Mother Kali the Demon Slayer — quite a bit.
Diwali (or Deepavali, in original Sanskrit) and Kali Puja are inseparable; they fall on the same day. In case you’re not familiar with it, Diwali or Festival of Lights is the cultural celebration of the harvest season. Kali Puja, or worshiping Goddess Kali of course is the religious celebration.
This year, I’m posting a short story I translated from the original Bengali. The author Sharat Chandra Chatterjee was a preeminent writer who left a mark in the world of Bengali literature with his passionate, humanitarian writing, especially his novels and short stories championing the often-forgotten place of women in the society. He was also famous for his writing against feudalism and other vile forms of social and religious orthodoxy and superstitions.
I hope you’ll like the story here, a story he wrote with a young audience in mind, and find out more about this great writer. Google Sharat Chandra Chatterjee, the Bengali novelist. Animal rights activists might read it too.
His nickname was Lalu. He must’ve had a formal name, but I couldn’t remember it now. You’d perhaps know that in Hindi, the word Lal meant the dear, the beloved. I couldn’t tell you who gave him the name; however, it was indeed the best-matching name for his character. Everybody loved him.
After graduating from high school, we entered college; Lalu said he’d get into business instead. He borrowed ten rupees from his mother and started a small contractor agency. We said to him, “Lalu, but you got ten rupees only.” Lalu said, “How much more do you need? This is enough.”
Everyone liked him; he found jobs quickly. On our way to college, we often saw Lalu with the sun umbrella on his head fixing street potholes employing a few laborers. He’d poke fun at us, “Run on now, scoot – don’t miss the attendance check.”
Even earlier, when we were in middle school, Lalu used to be the repairman for us all. In his school bag, he’d always carry a mortar and a pestle, an open razor, a broken knife, a little hand drill, a horseshoe, and such items. Nobody knew how he managed to collect it all, but with those trivial articles, there was practically nothing that he couldn’t do. He’d fix our broken umbrellas, put back the handheld slate board together, and even sew up our uniforms right away during a game. He’d never say no to any requests; he’d actually do a fine job. Once on some festivity, he bought some colored paper and natural foam, and worked nice-looking toys out of it; he even sold them at the riverbanks and bought us all peanut snacks with the money he made.
Gradually, we all grew up. Lalu became the best wrestler on the pit. His strength was extraordinary, and his courage was incredible. He never knew what fear was. He’d be ready for anybody’s call; he’d be present at anybody’s needs. Yet, he had a deadly flaw: he couldn’t resist himself from scaring someone. He’d do it equally to the young and old. We could never figure out where in the world did he find so many tricks to panic people. Could I tell you one such story?
In our neighborhood, Manohar Chatujje worshipped Goddess Kali in his house. One year, at the very late night hours, he must sacrifice an animal to the goddess. However, the slaughter man didn’t show up at the auspicious time. People rushed to get him out of his bed, but came back with bad news: the man was completely bedridden with a terrible stomachache. The news froze the worshippers; without an experienced slaughter man, there would be no sacrifice, and the entire process would be turned upside down, causing the gravest sin.
Someone in the assembled crowd said, “Why, Lalu can slaughter the goat; he’d done it many times before.” So, people ran again to get him.
However, Lalu woke up and said, “No.”
“What do you mean no? It’d be a terrible disaster if there’s no sacrifice.”
Lalu said, “Let it be. I done it when I was young, but won’t do it no more.”
People who came to get him started crying, “Lalu, there’s very little time left before the auspicious hour is over. Then the curse of the Goddess will kill us all.”
Finally, Lalu’s father came to the rescue. He ordered him to do it. He said, “These elderly men came to you because they had no other choice. You must do it.” Lalu yielded: he couldn’t say no to his father.
Manohar Chatujje was relieved to see Lalu. But there was no more time left. In a great hurry, the priest did the necessary ritual on the animal – he put the red vermillion and red marigold garland on it. The animal was fastened on the slaughter pin, hundreds of people in the puja compound cried out, “Holy Mother, Holy Mother,” and the enormous noise drowned out the hapless creature’s final scream. The semicircular, glittering scythe in Lalu’s hand went up and whacked down, and then blood sprang out of the severed neck of the poor animal, drenching the black soil red.
Lalu remained closed-eyed for a while. Slowly, the huge noise of drums, bells and conch shells died down. But then, it went back up again. The other goat that stood shivering in fear was brought in, smeared with vermillion and flower garland, tied on the slaughter pin, the devotees started screaming again with their “Holy Mother” chants, and the goat desperately, miserably appealed for its life to be spared. Again, Lalu’s blood-soaked scythe went up fast in the sky, and came down on the animal’s neck even faster. The severed body of the goat writhed and quivered for a few last moments, as if in complain against this terrible injustice, and lay still; the blood poured out of its neck soaked the already-stained soil of the puja ground.
The drummers insanely beat away their drums; devotees crowded up the puja courtyard, danced, and made a huge commotion. Manohar Chatujje sat on his special quilt, silently chanting his prayers.
Suddenly, Lalu made a terrifying howl. All the noise came to a screeching halt, and everyone froze in astonishment: what’s going on? They found Lalu in a trance, with his incredibly wide-open eyes rotating. Lalu screamed out, “Where’s the other goat?”
Someone from the Chatujje family replied in fear, “But we got no more goats. We always have only two goats to slaughter.”
Lalu swung his bloodstained scythe way up in the wind and roared, “No more goats? No more goats? Hell, that’s no good. I’m here to kill – bring me more goats, or I’ll kill all of you one by one. Holy Mother, Glory to Goddess Kali.” Then he made a big jump over and across the slaughter pin, with his scythe swinging around.
What happened next was indescribable. Everybody ran to the main door to escape together, lest Lalu had caught them up. It was a huge chaos. People started pushing, shoving and jostling in terror: some fell on each other, some tried to crawl on their hands underneath others’ legs, and some others got suffocated by the pressure of strangers’ arms and torsos around their necks. It all happened for a few minutes only; after that, it was all emptied – not a single soul was to be seen in the entire house.
Lalu roared again, “Where’s Manohar Chatujje? Where’s the priest?”
The priest was a scrawny man; he left early and hid behind the idol. Manohar Chatujje’s family guru was chanting from the Chandi the holy Sanskrit scripture; he quickly got up and went behind a big pillar on the courtyard. However, Manohar himself couldn’t run away with his big, bulky body. Lalu went straight up to him, held him by his hand and said, “Come on, put your neck out on the slaughter pin.”
With one hand, he held him like a death trap; his other hand wildly waved the scythe. Chatujje was out of control in fear. He wept and begged for his life, “Lalu, my son, look, I’m not a goat, I’m a man. I happen to be like your big uncle. Your father is like my younger brother.”
“I don’t care. I must sacrifice more to the Goddess. I’ll sacrifice you; Mother asked me to do it. Come on.”
Chatujje now cried out loud, “No my son, Mother could never ask for it, never. She’s the Mother of the Universe.”
Lalu said, “Mother of the Universe! You mean that? Will you ever sacrifice animals? Will you ever call me up for slaughters? Tell me now, or else.”
Chatujje cried out, “No more, my son, never. I promise here in front of the Mother – from today, animal sacrifice will stop in my house.”
“Yes my son, I swear. No more slaughter, never. Please let me go now son. I must go the bathroom.”
Lalu let him off and said, “Alright, I let you go. But what happened to the priest? Where’s that guru? Where’s he?” He then gave a howl again and jumped forward to the idol. Suddenly, two men, one from behind the goddess and one from behind the pillars simultaneously shrieked out, which created a strange, bizarre sound. It was so bizarre and hilarious that Lalu couldn’t restrain himself anymore. “Ha, ha, ha,” he broke out in loud laughter, dropped the hatched on the ground with a bang, and darted away.
Everybody now realized that he was pretending all along; his must-kill trance and everything was pure fake. Lalu was fooling around all this time. Everybody whomever had left came back in five minutes. The ritual of worship was still not fully done, it was greatly hampered already, and it made Chatujje terribly upset. In the midst of the pandemonium, he yelled, “I’ll show that rascal what I can do. Tomorrow I’m gonna make his dad whip that scoundrel a hundred times, I swear to God.”
But it didn’t really happen. The next morning, very early before dawn, Lalu ran away from home, not to return in the next week or so. When he did return, he slipped into Manohar Chatujje’s house after dark, touched his feet and apologized, to save himself from the wrath of his father.
However, because of the pledge Chatujje had made in front of Goddess Kali, from that day on, animal sacrifice was forever abolished in his home.
Note: Professor Gayatri Chakraborty Spivak, another world-renowned intellectual originally from Calcutta and Bengal, read this blog and wrote me a message of support.
“He [Prof. S. N. Bose] came quite a few times to our house. He was our Satyen [uncle] because he was friends with Montu [uncle] (Dilip Kumar Roy, Mother’s 1st cousin). If I remember right (these are very old memories), he sat on the floor of the living room and sang with us. A very simple man, absolutely unassuming.”
I am writing about the Boson half of the now-famous Higgs-Boson — the God Particle.
I’m writing about kind of the half-life of the half-word: like, how it evaporates — in this case, quite rapidly, as if it never existed.
No, it’s not a scientific article; I do not have the necessary qualifications to write about physics, particle physics, mathematics or statistics.
I’m writing about Professor S. N. Bose — an unassuming physicist-mathematician from Bengal — who first conceptualized the Bosons, with help from Albert Einstein. I’m writing about my frustration about Western media’s near-zero coverage of Prof. Bose, even when they’re going gaga about Higgs, Boson and the so-called discovery of God Particle.
I’m writing about a historic, predictable pattern of Western media and establishment’s way of reporting, underreporting and no-reporting of news: how they selectively report and include their preferred facts and names behind the facts, and at the same time, exclude or downplay their non-preferred facts and names behind the facts.
Western media — especially British and American media — have always done it. I shall cite some examples out of a long list we have. I could talk about how New York Times repeatedly mentioned Rabindranath Tagore as Babindranath Tagore (Read Dutta and Robinson: Rabindranath Tagore the Myriad-Minded Man). But I shall concentrate for now on the media exclusion of Prof. S. N. Bose from Calcutta and Dhaka — from West Bengal, now India and East Bengal, now Bangladesh. (By the way, these are the two halves the British cut open and severely bled when they left India after two hundred years of occupation, brutality and pauperization — that’s a story I told a number of times already — on this blog and many other places.)
It is unbelievable that in this 24/7 hyped-up coverage of Higgs-Boson, the so-called global media do not find any serious obligation to tell their global audience what in the world this strange name Boson came from, even when they’re telling big stories about Professor Higgs and what kind of a major genius the British scientist is. (I have no dispute about Prof. Higgs’ genius.)
Briefly, it’s like this. Someone hears or reads a news item about Higgs-Boson — also known as the God Particle. A reader or viewer, or two, have this question in their mind, and they ask their Media God (actually, nobody asks: media decides what to say and what not to say, or how much to say it):
Question. — “Dear Media God, can you please tell us what or who Higgs-Boson is?”
The Media God replies: (actually, I borrowed the description below from Wikipedia):
“The Higgs boson or Higgs particle is a proposed elementary particle in the Standard Model of particle physics. The Higgs boson is named after Peter Higgs who, along with others, proposed the mechanism that predicted such a particle in 1964. The existence of the Higgs boson and the associated Higgs field explain why the other massive elementary particles in the standard model have their mass. […] The Higgs field interaction is the simplest mechanism which explains why some elementary particles have mass. The Higgs boson—the smallest possible excitation of the Higgs field—has been the target of a long search in particle physics. One of the primary design goals of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN in Geneva, Switzerland—one of the most complicated scientific instruments ever built— was to test the existence of the Higgs boson and measure its properties.
Because of its role in a fundamental property of elementary particles, the Higgs boson has been referred to as the “God particle” in popular culture, although virtually all scientists regard this as a hyperbole. According to the Standard Model, the Higgs particle is a boson, a type of particle that allows multiple identical particles to exist in the same place in the same quantum state. Furthermore, the model posits that the particle has no intrinsic spin, no electric charge, and no colour charge. It is also very unstable, decaying almost immediately after its creation.
On 4 July 2012, the CMS and the ATLAS experimental collaborations at the Large Hadron Collider announced that they observed a new particle that is consistent with the Higgs boson, noting that further data and analysis were needed before the particle could be positively identified.”
At this point, most of the readers and viewers would be satisfied and resign to the dinner table. Just a handful of obstinate and stubborn people would not be satisfied, and ask:
Question. — “But Dear Media God, what then is Boson? Where did the name come from? I like that name — Boson. Could you please tell us, Oh Dear Media God, what the hell Boson is?”
But Media God would now be silent.
See, even in the detailed Wikipedia description, there is no mention of the fact that this no-name Esraj-playing scientist from some God-damn corner of God-damn India and God-damn Bangladesh actually conceptualized the Boson particle way back when — in 1924 or something — through a series of pers. comm.’s (personal communications) with Western scientific and political establishment’s poster child Einstein (no disrespect for the great genius here, believe me!). But science? Physics? Quantum physics? Statistics? In Calcutta? Dhaka? Like, when did they learn how to read and write, let alone do science?
See, nobody except for a handful of obstinate and stubborn people would even suspect that Boson had a lot to do with Bose — this guy from a dilapidated corner of British-partitioned, blood-soaked Bengal — if you only go by the Wikipedia or as of today, major Western media: print, TV, radio or the Internet.
God, His God Particle and all such major discoveries and prizes — such as the Nobel Prize — would be owned, re-owned and renewedly re-owned by God’s preferred men, women and children. Western establishments and media — along with their clone Indian establishments and media — will make sure it happens that way.
In the Standard Model of particle physics, the Higgs boson is a hypothetical elementary particle that “belongs to a class of particles known as bosons, characterized by an integer value of their spin quantum number.” The term “boson” is related to the forgotten Indian contribution to the discovery. It owes its name to Satyendra Nath Bose, an Indian physicist from Kolkata, whose pioneering work in the field in the early 1920s changed the way particle physics had been approached. (Quoted from: http://www.ibtimes.com — read the full article here on this link.)
The above article writes more about his fortuitous connection with Einstein:
“Born in 1894, Bose specialized in mathematical physics. He became a lecturer at the University of Calcutta in 1916 and joined the Dhaka University as Professor of Physics in 1921. While teaching the theory of radiation and ultraviolet catastrophe at the University of Dhaka, Bose attempted to show his students that the predicted results did not match the existing derivations of Planck’s radiation law. He made a simple mistake, which accidentally gave rise to a third prediction that produced accurate results! He derived Planck’s blackbody radiation law without the use of classical electrodynamics as Planck himself had done. He later developed a logically satisfactory derivation based entirely on Einstein’s photon concept and sent his paper on quantum statistics to a British journal, which refused to publish it, calling it erroneous.
Rejection of his paper might have frustrated Bose but he sent it it to Albert Einstein himself, with a request to arrange its publication in ‘Zeitschrift für Physik.”
Einstein immediately grasped the immense significance of Bose’s paper, translated it into German and published it in the August 1924 issue of Zeitschrift für Physik under the title, “Plancksgesetz Lichtquantenhypothese” (the English title was “Planck’s Law and Light Quantum Hypothesis”). He also added the following comment to Bose’s article:
“Bose’s derivative of Planck’s formula appears to me to be an important step forward. The method used here gives also the quantum theory of an ideal gas, as I shall show elsewhere.”
Einstein later applied Bose’s method to offer the theory of the ideal quantum gas, and predicted the phenomenon of Bose-Einstein condensation that became a basis of quantum mechanics.
As Amit Chaudhuri explains in The Guardian, “Einstein saw that it had profound implications for physics; that it had opened the way for this subatomic particle, which he named, after his Indian collaborator, ‘boson‘.”
Bose’s discovery, along with its subsequent development by the Italian physicist Enrico Fermi, provided the basis of categorizing the fundamental particles into two groups – “bosons” after Bose and “fermions” after Fermi.” (End of article excerpt).
See, the entire set of facts was published in an Indian publication and written by an Indian author named Kukil Bora (and he quotes another Indian author who wrote in the Guardian, a “lefty” paper). I can’t thank him enough. But what do you think: at this important time when the entire, civilized and developed Western world and its media publish so many stories on Higgs-Boson, shouldn’t they also have reported on the Boson half of Higgs-Boson?
Like I said before, it’s a historic, predictable pattern of Western establishment’s coverage of facts — according to their preference. Very soon, after some initial “disrespectful” reporting, their clone Indian media and establishment would also sweep the Bose and Boson half of the Higgs-Boson particle, by God’s Grace, under the eternally oblivious rug.
Neither S. N. Bose nor J. C. Bose was awarded the Nobel Prize (in fact, there’s strong evidence that J. C. Bose was denied by the then-European rulers of India of his invention of the radio — in favor of Marconi — see the article I linked in the above paragraph). And, then, a whole host of Bengali and Indian writers and scientists were bypassed by the Nobel and other international awards committees for we often say and we all know, prejudice, bias and political reasons. Like, Gandhi was never awarded a Nobel Peace Prize (but Kissinger was)! That tradition is on.
There will be some no-name reporting in some no-name publications; but God’s no-name particles rising from this no-name, God-damn, pauperized corner of the globe would soon be erased from human memory by the global media and their puppet masters.
Boson’s connection with Bose, Bose’s connection with Bengal and India, and all these no-name God’s particles from those God-damn, uncivilized corners of the world will remain just like that — no-name — by God’s Grace.
Or, at least, by the grace of God’s “more civilized” children from the Western half of the world.