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In Search of Ochin Pakhi

Two baul singers sitting on the ground of an open space and performing

It is said that we understood music before language. The theory of Nāda, which represents how sounds and vibrations are integral to spiritual realisation, underscores that the cosmos is held together by primordial sound that unites inner sounds with that of the external music of the universe. Music, a primal form of expression thus cuts across gender and limitations and is premised on unbounded love. It is proudly queer and fluid

The aim of this piece is to bring to light the inherent queerness marking Baul folk music in Bengali, an oral undocumented spiritual expression that transcends heterosexual impositions and classism. It is not uncommon to come across Baul and their passionate oral tradition at rural melas (fairs) and akharas (religious congregations for spiritual learning). The wandering long-haired mystics dressed in orange and sometimes carrying a little jhola (sling bag) are unmistakably androgynous in their appearance. Their songs brim with spirituality and a hope for a classless and casteless society that prizes love beyond barriers.

Lalon Fakir, a mystic poet and Baul composer, remains the most well-known proponent of the school within and outside Bengal. One of his much-loved compositions is ‘Khachar Bhetor Ochin Pakhi’ (‘an unknown bird inside the cage’), which symbolises the cycle of life and a desire to break free of the earthly shackles of the body. It hints at a longing for an elusive, formless self:

Khachar bhetor ochin pakhi
(An unknown bird inside the cage)
Kemone ashe jaye
(How it comes and goes)
Tare dhorte parle monobedi
(If only I could hold it back)
Ditam pakhir paye
(I would put a chain on its leg)

The Ochin Pakhi (unknowable bird) and Khacha (cage) are a retelling of an age-old struggle by heteronormativity to tie down the untamed, unbound identity of the queer. The song appears to mock such futile attempts at policing the self and suppressing one’s search for personal meaning. The allusions in ‘Kon din khacha porbe khoshe’ (someday the cage will fall apart) reaffirm that our selves cannot be contained through societal tenets of conformity and control. The Ochin Pakhi is an unknown bird, free with the wind, like our expressions wearing many genders, or none at all.

A queer reading of any narrative is incomplete unless considered from the influence of class and caste. Lalon Fakir’s composition of ‘Jaat Gelo’ (The class/caste is lost) playfully turns society’s classist dictum of imposing standards on its head. The world of heteronormativity is akin to a factory churning out rigid roles – a karkhana (factory), cracking down upon the slightest dissent and diversity:


Jaat gelo, jaat gelo bol
(The class/caste is lost)
Eki ajob karkhana
(Such a strange factory)

Queer movements recognise class struggle as blockades that deepen their oppression. Born into a poor weaver family, Dutee Chand’s coming out as gay throws into sharp relief the harrowing realities of class struggle in the lives of queer people. The Kinnar Akhada’s participation in the 2019 Kumbh Mela is not just a move of religious empowerment, but also a triumph for transgender people in public spaces. 1 Baul music balances itself upon these subversive wisdoms of bodies transcending binaries untethered by caste and code.

A recurring metaphor across the spectrum of Baul expression is the undefined and genderless ‘Moner manush’ signifying the ‘the heart’s beloved’. The form of the divine beloved resists definition, and the lover does not flinch in the face of social scrutiny and shaming:

Jokhon oi rup moron hoye
(When I remember my beloved’s beauty)
Thakena lok-lojja’r bhoy
(There is no fear of public shame)

There are repeated references to ‘Moner manush’ in ‘Ami kothay pabo tare’ (Where will I find them?) composed by the Baul singer Gagan Harkare too, becoming a close embodiment of Rumi’s philosophy that dissolves gender boundaries in love and lovers. This unbound yearning finds a natural ally in Bangla for its lack of gender-specific actors and its only having a formal and informal terminology for the second-person pronoun. Bengali linguistic space neither confines nor subjects gender to a standard, enabling fluid expressions in all social spheres.

A lesser-known song attributed to Lalon Fakir asks the listener what it means to have gender consciousness, ‘Lingo thakle ki purush hoye?’(‘Does having a penis make you a man?’) – questioning whether one become a man merely by possessing a penis?

Like the idea of the ‘the heart’s beloved’ is the notion of the ‘Shohoj manush’ in Baul music, roughly translating to a ‘simple human’. What entails being a ‘shohoj manush’ is captured through these verses:

Tumi dibbyo chokhye dekh cheye
(See with divine eyes and discern)
Manush kokhon purush kokhon nari
(A human is sometimes a man, sometimes woman)
Manusher anta peye
(Find the core of humanity)
Nari-hijre purush khoja
(In women, transgender and men)
Manush bhajan ati soja
(Worshipping a human is so simple)

The singer alludes to the essence of the soul being marked by both male and female, or the absence of both (Manusher anta peye/Nari-hijre purush khoja). Identity is shaped by an inner plurality of genders that is both undefined and beautifully simple to the eye secured against heteronormative indoctrination. This perspective is a deliberate choice of adopting a queer gaze that also examines spirituality outside traditional norms. The ‘shohoj manush’ worships this very essence in human nature.

Societal stratification through rigid identities of the masculine/feminine and rational/mystical is a heterosexual import which seeks rigid binaries in order to perpetuate heterosexist power structures. It is at the intersection of our mother tongue and choosing who we love, that we arrive at reclaiming queerness. The expression in Baul music is both conscious of the soul’s substance and the futility of striving against it.

1. Goel, I. (2024, December). Queering Kumbh Mela: Kinnar Akhada, the world’s first the world’s first transgender Hindu spiritual order. https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/733238 ↩︎

Suggested Reading

Lorea, C. (2018). Pregnant Males, Barren Mothers, and Religious Transvestism Transcending Gender in the Songs and Practices of “Heterodox” Bengali Lineages. Asian Ethnology, 77, 169 -213. https://asianethnology.org/downloads/ae/pdf/AsianEthnology-2115.pdf

Cover image by Ratul Pal on Unsplash