Harry-
My Heart is Down, Lost in
Kingstontown
(Tribute
to Harry Belafonte-
A true giant, a voice for the voiceless, who walked
here in my lifetime)
Monish R Chatterjee, May,
2023
Your life, every
aspect of it, was like the mythical Philosopher's
Stone-
The Paras Pathar, as we call it in India,
and on which our own
Creative giant,
Satyajit, made a film, cast in black and white, as does
Your life story,
very black and white, near mythical.
Tutored as I was
from age ten or earlier, by my Bengali housewife Mother
In a corner of
India- about MLK, the scourge of slavery and the brutal
Racism of America,
MLK's Dream- my knowledge, awareness and
Empathy multiplied
tenfold once I actually arrived on these shores
And the evidence
was everywhere, in documentaries, in the books,
In everyday life
(the resistance to the MLK birthday started a chapter).
As little as I knew
the true, ghastly face of the much-glorified
United States
(including vague notions at best of their atrocities in
Vietnam, then in
full swing)- I recall being totally enraptured by one Voice-
A voice of molten
gold, a voice which bespoke of Jamaica and Calypso,
Its humanity,
unrestrained rapture, bespoke of a long-oppressed people
Seeking freedom and
salvation. Harry- even at a great
distance, know
You reached untold
millions worldwide, a bridge to humanity
So many such as
myself caught the contagion of your lyrics- lyrics
Which brought out
the agonies of oppressed hearts with unsurpassed
Poignancy- Come Mr. Tally-man, Tally me banana;
Daylight come and we
Want
go home. Then,
as I grew closer to the history of the Civil Rights
Struggle and its
glorious icons- I gradually became aware of your own
Consistent,
inviolable participation in those history-making events-
Selma, Montgomery,
so many others. Yours was not to simply
revel
In the glow of your
epochal music; your purpose was much higher-
Your heart and soul
resonated with unmatched closeness to the Cause-
You joined ranks
with MLK, Malcolm, Ali, the other luminant ones
A great wave of
reawakening, there was- and, with your Calypso
You brought an
entirely different dimension to the Great Struggle.
Yet, beyond your
uplifting Caribbean melodies, you entered the
Innermost recesses
of my heart via your utterly soulful, supremely
Stirring, Negro
Spirituals. I must confess that even
though I had long
Admired the
incomparable Paul Robeson in years earlier, and the likes
Of Mahalia Jackson-
my first encounter with several Negro Spirituals
Carried on your golden,
deeply soulful voice, left an imprint to this
Day indelible
inside my being. Those songs opened an
entirely new
Vista for me- I realized
suddenly that here was an astonishing creation
By long-oppressed
Black freedom seekers which actually uses the
Christian imagery,
but very differently indeed- most effectively
Establishing
the brutality and inhumanity of those who shriek
The
name of Christ the loudest. The contrast
is absolutely deafening
To
any awakened mind. Yet, not in one
single place in these supreme
Compositions
do I ever find any hatred, bitterness or vengefulness-
Which
would all have been otherwise perfectly justifiable. These
Compositions
offering solace to the oppressed, degraded and enslaved
Reach
a level of nobility and grace which approach in my personal
Experience,
only the sublime bhakti songs of
Ramprasad, Kamalakanta
And
Mirabai, and perhaps the Brahma Sangeet of
Tagore. If, perchance
Your
incomparable Caribbean melodies were to be lost to the world-
My
utmost prayer would be that your spirituals survive- for they are
The
embodiment of the noblest yearnings of the enslaved human,
Anywhere,
triumphing in the domain of the mind over the ruthless
Slave-Masters
and human traffickers. I recall meeting
your one-time
Fellow
"marcher to freedom," the Reverend James Bevel at an anti-war
Forum
at Eastern Michigan University, protesting the criminal invasion
Of
Iraq, early 2004, and noticing how much he was immediately drawn
To
a volume of Tagore's English writings dealing with the human
Wasteland
that was colonialism and its imperial counterpart. Of all
The
human cries against imperial rampage- in East Asia, the
Middle
East, Latin America, Africa, and of course here in the imperial
Headquarters,
the US of A, almost forever in league with colonialists
And
profiteers- I feel the deepest cries of anguish from enslaved
Africans
are by far the most heart-rending. Harry- the muted
Messages
of that anguish in your spirituals find their voice in Tagore's
Immortal Africa. Harry- along with Paul Robeson at the forefront,
Bob
Marley and other seekers of freedom- you have relentlessly lent
Your
voice to humanity seeking freedom, right through the freshest
Imperial
rampages of the new millennium, including Iraq and Libya.
I
think I heard him say- take my mother home.
This
imagined cry from an agonized Christ about to be crucified-
So
closely approaches the deepest apprehension of a mother's
Bursting
heart witnessing the (enslaved) son's brutal degradation.
Bring
a little water, Sylvie, bring a little water- now!
Picture
the enslaved prisoner (still many victims of racism today)
Crying
out for drops of water to soothe their parched lips. And
There
is always the compassionate woman ready to reach out.
There's
joy in my father's house.
The
Father's (heavenly or here on earth) house is the ultimate refuge.
And
the joy therein is exactly replicated in Tagore's most uplifting
Aji shubhadine pitar bhabane
amrita sadane cholo jai.
Matilda-
she take me money and run Venezuela.
And
your music was not all other-worldly- they were a product
Of
everyday life- humor, irony, deceit, perplexity- it covered
The
gamut. Here a hapless fellow gets conned by a wily woman.
The
woman piaba and the man piaba.
Within
which you laid out the ultimate truth- the very best of
Our
human compatriots know not the answer to many fundamental
Questions
- and not limited to only "'bout the bird and bee."
Jump
in the line, rock your body in time (shake, senora).
And
there, unforgettably, was young rebel Winona Ryder
Floating
effortlessly over the staircase railing, rocking her body
In
time. Whether in Beetlejuice, or a
hundred other places-
Harry,
you ruled the roost, time and again. Your creativity and
Its
vibrancy knew no limits. You brought
untold joy and positive
Affirmation,
while within the sanctum sanctorum, your spirit
Was
crushed by the persistent, grave injustice haunting our world.
In
their younger years, I introduced my son and daughter to your
More
popular melodies- the Jamaica Farewell, Mama Look a Boo Boo,
More.
Your soulful spirituals I hope they will discover on their own-
The
searching spirit often finds them naturally.
Yet,
inexorably, the time for the great Farewell has now arrived
And,
left with a world impoverished by your absence- gone from us
Are
Poitier, Vidal, Tutu, Zinn and many shining lights- all we have left
Is
the wish- come back Harry, come back in all your glory
With you there is no Farewell; come
back to this verdant earth
Where, with all its kinks, Life flourishes.
Ramprasad Sen- Bengali devotional composer and
poet (1718/23-1775).
Kamalakanta-
Bengali devotional composer, yogi, poet (1769-1821).
Mirabai- 16th
century Princess of Rajputana, who
became a devout servant of Krishna.
Aji shubhadine, pitar bhabane,
amrita sadane cholo jai-
On this auspicious day,
let us proceed to Our Father's House of Eternal Life. Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), Brahma Sangeet.
URLs for HB songs discussed:
Take my mother home:
Click Here
Bring a little water, Sylvie:
Click Here
In my Father's house:
Click Here
Matilda:
Click Here
The woman piaba and the man piaba
Click Here
Jump in the line
Click Here