The Baul Oil Pastels
Image Size: 21.7" by 15"
NOSTALGIA
I'm sitting here in an insignificant little corner of a foreign land as I find myself staring at a picture of a baul on the cover of a cheap, tattered, calendar that I brought from home. Over time, I seem to have built a special connection with this tiny image.
The baul is a wanderer. He constantly moves from place to place, singing his life-affirming songs with more soul than could ever be captured on vinyl. He carries no possessions but his timeworn attire; the only belonging that he claims a stake to. It is definitively meshed into his identity.
I too have one article of clothing that I can never let go of.Upon leaving the city I call home, I realized there is something evoking and beautiful about my old, worn-out set of pajamas. Every time I wear them I am reminded of countless days back home when I sat in the exact same position, by the exact same window, trying to decipher the very same equations that have been buzzing in my head for so long. I press this warm, tattered fabric against the tips of my fingers and I am instantly transported to a world that is familiar and safe. Every missing puzzle piece momentarily falls into its rightful place. I relive the days I know I will only see in my mind’s eye.
Much like the baul, I too am a wanderer in my new surroundings and like him, I have one special fragment of past that has every forgotten, insignificant moment woven into my soul.The worn out pajamas exist both tangibly and within the recesses of my sense of self. I have left the old and familiar for the sake of exploration and growth; abandoning privileges that I had all but taken for granted. I chart new territory because the realization of the baul is a part of my collective consciousness. He makes me understand that in order to be truly free, intellectually, spiritually, outside the constructs of society and self-imposed barbed fences, I have to learn to let go of all the places and people I have explored. All that I reticently cease is the ability to repeat those experiences and interactions. It is necessary if I am to make space for new ones.
I take my past with me as I begin to understand that wherever I lay my head is home. I leave those memories dangling like old loose threads on my favorite frayed pajamas, knowing its worth but acknowledging how futile and worn out they are.
Name: Saiq'a S. Chowdhury
Date of Birth: 31st March 1988
