Baul Woman

Born into an upper-class Bengali family in Shillong,Sen first left her bhadralok universe at the age of 18 and then dropped out of Presidency College,Calcutta,where she found it impossible to concentrate on Shelley’s “pathetic fallacy” and went to drought-hit Bodhgaya to do social work. “Apart from me,all other volunteers were British and American. I heard the news of the world from them,” writes Sen,who soon joined a group of students returning to London,travelling on land through West Asia. From London she hopped to Paris in a borrowed overcoat with five pounds in the pocket. It was in Paris — many years,a ménage a trois and two children later — that she encountered Paban and the Bauls. “He invited me to visit the Baul mela of Kenduli in mid-January and I went,” says Sen. Today she shuttles between India and France,but it is her extraordinary experiences that make Baulsphere a joy to read. Sen has made excellent use of rare photographs,collected from archives in India and abroad,of Baul singers,to complement her notes on the musical landscape of Bengal and its mystic singers.

Sen is trying to keep the momentum going as she travels from India to the UK,France and even Mexico,composing and collaborating with artists. “Everyday,Paban and I think about how we can continue taking care of our extended family… how to get out of the blind alleys we stray into,” writes Sen in the epilogue of the book. Now as she travels across India,promoting the book through her concerts with Paban and their group,Sen brings to mind the lyrics of the 19th century Baul Lallan Fakir: How does this unknown bird,flit back and forth,in and out of his cage? But with Baulsphere,Sen might no longer stay unknown.