The Last Will of Professor Prabodh Chandra Sen

Translated by Bisakha Sen.

(Professor Prabodh Chandra Sen, renowned in scholarly circles as an expert—virtually the pathfinder—in the study of Bengali rhythmics, author of many books on Indian history and on Rabindranath Tagore, first occupant of the Rabindra-Professor chair at Vishwa Bharati, died in his sleep on the morning of September 20, 1986, at the age of eighty nine. A few hours earlier, he had documented his last wishes in what may be called his ‘will’, though it was in no sense a legal document. The original document was published as part of the ‘Prabodh Chandra Sen Centenary Commemorative Volume’, ed. Professor Bhabatosh Datta, on occasion of his birth centenary earlier this year. Given below is a translation of that unique document).

First Part:

After my death, let some earth be smeared on my forehead. And let the song ‘O amar desher maati, tomar pore thekai matha’ (‘O earth of my country, on you I rest my head’) be sung. On the way to the cremation ground, let the song ‘Jhara paata go, aami tomari dole’ (‘Fallen leaves, I am as one of you now’) be sung. And let the songs at the cremation ground be ‘Agune holo agunmoi’ (‘All is now aflame’) and ‘Ore agun aamar bhai’ (‘O fire, my brother, I sing your praises’).

Let there be no new clothing put on my corpse. It will be quiet sufficient to clothe it in some used but clean garments of mine. Let no pictures be taken of my corpse, and let no remnants whatsoever, not even ash, be kept after completing the cremation process.

Do not perform the conventional ‘mukhagni’. (Translator’s note: ‘Mukhagni’ in Bengali translates literally to ‘setting fire in the mouth’). ‘Mukhagni’ truly means the first ignition of fire, not setting fire to the mouth. The first flames may be applied to the forehead and chest of my corpse. I look upon Debipada as my first born son. Let him be the one to first ignite the fire. If that is not possible, any of my daughters, son-in-laws, or students may perform that task. Afterwards of course, many will participate to complete the process.

(Translator’s note: Debipada Bhattacharya, whom Professor Sen held so dear, was his student and an accomplished academician himself. He was the Head of the Bengali Department at Jadavpur University, and later Vice Chancellor of Rabindra Bharati University. His own commemorative work on Professor Sen, published shortly afterwards in ‘Desh’ magazine, was titled ‘Pita Nohobi’—‘I know Thee as my Father’).

I had fervently hoped that instead of burning my corpse, I could have it given to some medical institution, so that my body parts and skeleton could be utilized as needed by patients or students. Unfortunately, I could not arrange for that. If arrangements can be made after my demise, then of course there will be no further need for cremation.

If for some reason my death occurs in Calcutta, then all efforts should be made to utilize my corpse for some worthy medical cause. I do not consider destruction by burning to be a ‘good end’ of the corpse. If that should prove to be impossible, then the body should be disposed off using the electric furnace. That will save time, do away with paraphernalia like ‘mukhagni’, and not necessitate the crime of cutting trees and destroying wood.

If the body must be cremated by conventional methods, let petrol or kerosene be used without hesitation to expedite the process. That will alleviate in part the sin of destroying wood. Why waste compassion on a dead-body ? It is the living whose welfare must be kept in consideration.

After my death, let there be no ceremonies prescribed in scriptures, no rites and rituals, no devotional gatherings or ‘sradha’ (a Hindu religious ceremony, performed 10-12 days after a person’s death). I have enjoyed a long, peaceful and fulfilling life. There is no cause to grieve at my death. Indeed, there is cause for joy.

After my death, let there be no prayers said for my soul at the Santiniketan temple or anywhere else, no religious intonations or ‘mantras’, no devotional songs like ‘Tomar asheeme praan-mon loye’ (‘With my heart and soul in thy eternity’). I do not believe in the existence of soul beyond body, nor in a Creator or Ultimate God. What I was in this life, may only that be recalled from different viewpoints and reminisced upon. For though one leaves this world, it takes a while to be obliterated from people’s memories.

My children should proceed with their normal lives immediately following my death. There should be no change in their food or daily routines. In other words, they should not follow the scriptural or societal routines of mourning that typically follow the death of a father.

Similarly, my wife should follow none of the society prescribed behavioral modes for widows. A husband is not required to follow any rules in term of food or dress following the demise of his wife. It is my fervent wish that my wife follow no such rules either, though it may be better to discard with those symbols that specifically mark a married woman (like sindoor, sankha and loha). There is no need to follow the convention of breaking the sankha, it should simply be taken off and kept aside.

By convention, widows do not wear red-bordered saris. This convention deserves to be ignored. In fact, I hope that she continues to wear red-bordered saris most of the time. I still like it best when she wears saris with very broad red borders. I wish that if for no other reason, she at least remembers this preference of mine and not discard such saris.

She should continue to eat both non-vegetarian and vegetarian food. Only such food as is harmful to health should be avoided. She eats betel leaves on a regular basis, which is not good for her health. Therefore it is my wish that she stops eating betel leaves.

Convention also demands that widows observe specific rules on ‘ekadashi’ and ‘ambubachi’. Such conventions must be summarily rejected.

(Translator’s notes: These are specific days of the month. One rule widows are expected to abide by on these days is a day-long fast).

After my death, let there be no ceremonies or fuss on my birth and death anniversaries. Such occasions are celebration-worthy only for those who occupy a permanent place in history. Commemorating such people is the duty of the nation. Celebrating the birth and death anniversaries of those whose memories will be fleeting and forgotten in but a few days is akin to a child’s playing with dolls.

However, as long as my wife lives, I wish that on the day of our wedding

anniversary (the 2^nd of Ashaar) every year, she will place a couple of flowers before a picture of mine and wear a red bordered sari herself. If somebody can be found to sing, then in the evening, songs like ‘Bahu juger opaar hote’ (‘From across many ages’) could be sung. If she is ill, or there happen to be other problems, then none of this is necessary. May she only recall that day of the 2^nd. of Ashaar, 1925, in her heart. Of course, I know she will do so even if I don’t write this down. Nevertheless I express on paper one dear wish I have in this life. I hope that it will be pleasing to her. I claims no rights over the future. But what harm can there be in letting this one weakness of mine being known ?

Third Part:

(Translator’s note: This clearly seems to be an error in writing, and the author actually meant ‘Second part’).

Man comes to this world at a particular time, to a particular societal environment. And he must build his own life according to his desires and ability within the frameworks of that time and environment. Once the game of life is done, the results of that game and all the equipment are passed on to the future, the future society. He has no claim on that future, he can have no claim. He who is no more-—what claim can he make ?

Man has no individual identity that is completely isolated from the society. For he is a creature of the society. His evolution occurs as a social entity. Indeed, what is referred to as one’s ‘personality’ is but the specific character he assumes in context of the society. The familial identity that a person assumes at an young age is but a step on the way to acquiring a larger social identity. He finds fulfillment in the acquisition of that social identity. Thus man does not belong solely to his family. He belongs, in a deeper sense, to society. This game of life is a societal game. The equipment with which this is played (what people call property) is eventually acquired from society. And thus, at the end of the game, the equipment must be returned to society. The results of the game may also, by the same logic, be claimed by the greater society. This philosophy I accepted at the beginning of my working life. And the resolutions I made that day remain unchanged to date. Therefore I express the following wishes—

After my death, my house in Purbapalli named ‘Ruchira’(inclusive of the land and trees) shall become the property of Vishwa Bharati. My wife, Srimati Ruchira Sen, gives full consent to this.

The house may be broken and re-built as convenient, as long as the name is kept unchanged.

Vishwa Bharati may utilize the house and land as it sees fit for educational and cultural purposes. I only wish that it not be used merely as a residence hall for students or faculty.

If there are no legal or other barriers, then Vishwa Bharati may take legal ownership of the house and land during my life-time. Only the physical ownership must wait till my death

I have in my collection a number of books about rhythmics, history, literature etceteras written in Bengali, English, Sanskrit and other languages, which are in a state of disarray. Many of them are otherwise unavailable today. However, due to my physical inability, no inventory has ever been made of these books. This task must be undertaken without delay, and I would like to assign the responsibility to my son-in-law, Dwijadaas.

After my death, this collection of books too will become the property of Vishwa Bharati, barring those that carry special private memories. Some of the books should go to the Rabindra Bhavan library, and the others to Vishwa Bharati’s main library. If possible and if Vishwa Bharati is willing, I would like to see this accomplished before I die. Again, I give the responsibility to Dwijadaas.

( Translator’s note: Dwijadaas Banererjee is employed by Rabindra Bhavan, at Vishwa Bharati).

I want nothing in return for the house, land and books. However, these things undoubtedly have a monetary value. That money could be utilized to fulfill a particular desire of Rabindranath Tagore. He had a long standing regret regarding the lack of academic work done on the history of Bengal. He desired that the Bengali race should be self-aware, should know of their own past. He founded the idea of a series of books written for the specific purpose of mass education, and gave to me the responsibility of composing a history of Bengal which could be included in such a series. Such a task demands long research and full concentration. I started it, but due to various other responsibilities, was unable to maintain focus over time. Hence, a history of Bengal suitable for mass education is yet to be written. I hope that Vishwa Bharati will use the monetary value of the aforementioned house, land and books, add to it from their own funds, and arrange to give an yearly Tagore memorial award for work on Bengal’s history. Then, this wish of Rabindranath’s may finally be fulfilled.

In truth, I hope that Vishwa Bharati will accept my gift as but a token, and allocate enough funds on their own initiative to arrange for the said award.

I have no private savings. For a long time now, my children have subsidized my living expenses. There was a time when I had thought that I would add my unearned Rs 11,000 (The Anandabazaar award of Rs 1,000 and the Bankim award of Rs.10,000) to this gift, but those funds were rapidly used up in this financially straitened home. And what I receive yearly as royalty from my books disappears as rapidly as water droplets on the desert sand. Yet I hope that what I give will not be scorned as the gift of a pauper.

If Vishwa Bharati accepts my suggestion, then the Tagore memorial award could be dispersed of in the following way. Tagore had two wishes regarding Bengal’s history. First, he wanted knowledge of Bengal’s history to be spread even amongst the little educated. History that would touch on Bengal’s political, social, religious and cultural past, and be a good vehicle for mass education. He also knew that recovering Bengal’s history could be a matter of hard assiduous research. He encouraged a number of individuals to undertake that task. I personally experienced that. The system for presenting awards should be devised such that both of Tagore’s wishes can fulfilled as far as possible.

(Translator’s note: After writing this much, Professor Sen took to his bed. He died a few hours later in his sleep. He had neither signed nor dated the document. His children obeyed his wishes regarding the non-observance of rites and rituals, as did his wife. He had expressed another wish, albeit verbally. That those who came to pay their respects after his death should be given a flower, some fruit, and sweets. For life is fair, life is fruitful and life is sweet. That wish too was complied with.

That invaluable collection of books has since been catalogued and incorporated into the libraries of Rabindra Bhavan and Vishwa Bharati. It was accepted that Srimati Ruchira Sen, who legally inherited the house and land, would leave the same to Vishwa Bharati as she was in full agreement with her husband’s wishes. However, during the last few years of her life she was increasingly afflicted by failing health, eyesight and hearing. At the end, her memory and mental capacities degenerated rapidly. After her death, it was found that she had disposed of the house and land in a manner other than her husband’s wishes. Thus, unfortunately, that one wish of this remarkable scholar has remained unfulfilled ).