Sexual dimorphism

 

The header of this article is a phrase I have come across recently. To be honest, this brief note is an attempt to show off my newly-acquired vocabulary, but I guess you will enjoy if you read on, particularly if you are interested in the animal world or the evolution of life forms. 

“Dimorphic” means “representing two distinct forms”. Sexual dimorphism means the differences in sizes, strength, and behaviour patterns between the two sexes of the same species, and how different they look. For example, among wild mammals, males are often bigger and more aggressive than females. Females, on the other hand, take care of their infants. Among birds, males not only have attractive plumes and colours, usually, they are the ones that sing! The male deer has antlers, a cumbersome accessory, but it adds to his visual appeal, besides being useful during fights with other males. 

Males and females are different because the struggle for reproductive success has each of them along different evolutionary trajectories. Male birds / mammals have to win sexual contests with other males. To put it simply, they must impress females, a situation you come across in humans in campuses and everywhere else. 

Interestingly, sexual dimorphism is much less pronounced among domesticated animals because they don’t have the same evolutionary pressures as wild animals! Their survival (or suffering) and procreation is ensured by their human masters. Among humans, in so-called civilized societies, physical strength has taken a back seat in personal contacts. Even if a man has a contest with another to win the favours of a woman, they don’t try to beat each other to pulp. Usually! Consequently, sexual dimorphism is less pronounced among humans. According to an estimate, 10% of US men weigh less than the average weight of an American woman. Men don’t need a bigger body or muscles to impress women these days. Instead, they try to enrol in Ivy Leage universities. IITs in our country.

However, certain forms of dimorphism, like bright colours among birds and antlers on deer should be a disadvantage for their survival. These make them more visible and easier targets for predators. But the paradox is easily resolved if you consider that the reproductive success of an animal is often more important than his/her life span. For example, a wild male pheasant lives half as long as a female. (Nature is perhaps not as partial to males as it might seem at the first glance!) A male pheasant’s reproductive success depends not on how long he lives, but on how many females he can mate with. Bright plumage improves his chances. On the other hand, among insects, females are often bigger than males as they need volume to produce a large number of eggs.

I got interested in the topic while reading some books. Of these, one I read at a stretch over the last two days: a beautiful Bangla novel for young adults and children like me. The story is around the evolutionary success of migratory birds in particular and birds in general. The title of the book is অচিন পাখী  which literally mean An Exotic Bird.

The author of the book is Debashis Moitra, who besides writing in Bangla, teaches civil engineering. Humans are no less intriguing than birds!

More about the book later. Please watch this space!

20 March 2022 / edited on Friday, 22 March 2024

Picture of male and female orioles from Marin Independent Journal, e-edition

“Jete pari, kintu keno jabo? / I can, but why should I leave?”

Written by the late Shakti Chattopadhyay (and published in a collection of poems in 1982), this sentence of enormous simplicity has become a catchphrase in Bangla. Most educated Bengalis would have heard and spoken the sentence at some time or other. Many a time, I believe, these words would have changed the course of their thoughts.

Having crossed the decrepit milestone of seventy years some time ago, I think of leaving more often than before. This morning too, as I read the poem, it didn’t fail to shake me up, like every other time I read it. 

Here is a feeble attempt to translate the poem. I would love to hear what you think of the English version.

 * 

I can, but why should I leave? 

Shakti Chattopadhyay >>>

I think maybe, it would be better to turn back.

I’ve dipped my two hands in so much darkness

For so long!

I’ve never thought of you as the you you are.

Nowadays, when I stand beside an abyss at night,

The moon calls me, ‘Come, come, come!’

These days, when a sleepy I stand on the bank of the Ganga,

Woods from the pyre call me, ‘Come, come!’

Yes, I can go

I can go along any path I choose

But, why should I?

I will hold my child in my arms and kiss her once

I will go, but I won’t go just now

I will take you all with me

I won’t go now

When it’s not the time.

 

Translated in Cupertino, California

On 7 July 2023

 

*

 

যেতে পারি, কিন্তু কেন যাবো?

শক্তি চট্টোপাধ্যায় >>>

 

ভাবছি, ঘুরে দাঁড়ানোই ভালো।

এতো কালো মেখেছি দু হাতে

এতোকাল ধরে!

কখনো তোমার ক’রে, তোমাকে ভাবিনি।

এখন খাদের পাশে রাত্তিরে দাঁড়ালে

চাঁদ ডাকে : আয় আয় আয়

এখন গঙ্গার তীরে ঘুমন্ত দাঁড়ালে

চিতাকাঠ ডাকে : আয় আয়

যেতে পারি

যে-কোন দিকেই আমি চলে যেতে পারি

কিন্তু, কেন যাবো?

সন্তানের মুখ ধরে একটি চুমো খাবো

যাবো

কিন্তু, এখনি যাবো না

তোমাদেরও সঙ্গে নিয়ে যাবো

একাকী যাবো না অসময়ে।।

 

Photo courtesy:  https://www.observerbd.com/2016/03/24/143159.php

The Ganga is a carrier of corpses

 In the Wire yesterday, Deepal Trivedi wrote: 

“A poet from Gujarat once hailed as “the next big icon of Gujarati poetry” by right-leaning litterateurs in the state, has become the latest target of the BJP IT cell’s troll army for a powerful poem she has written on the sufferings of Indians as the Union government grossly mismanages the second wave of the pandemic. …

 

“The 14-line poem was promptly translated into at least six languages, becoming the voice of all Indians who are saddened by the tragedies wrought by the pandemic and angered by the government’s aloofness and mismanagement of the situation.”

I am sharing with you my Bangla translation of the poem from English, followed by the English version by Salil Tripathi, Hindi by Ilyas Sheikh, and finally, the original in Gujarati.

Courtesy: The Wire, from where I have sourced the original and two translations, and also the picture of the poet.

*

শববাহিনী গঙ্গা / পারুল খাক্কার  >>>

সারি সারি শবদেহ বলে, খুসী থাকো, কোন কিছু ভাববেনা কেউ।

এ রামরাজ্যে রাজা, মানুষের দেহ নিয়ে বয়ে যায় গঙ্গার ঢেউ।

হে রাজন, জঙ্গলের কাঠ সব ছাই, শ্মশানে তিলমাত্র স্থান নেই

আর্তকে সাহায্য করার লোক নেই, শববাহকের অভাবও একান্তই

শোক করার জন্যই বা আছে কে? আমরা তবুও বেঁচে থাকি

ভাষাহীন নিষ্প্রাণ অবসন্নতা একমাত্র রয়ে যায় বাকী।

 যমদূতেরা নগরীর ঘরে ঘরে, তারা নৃত্য করে মহা উল্লাসে

এ রামরাজ্যে রাজা, সারি সারি শবদেহ গঙ্গায় ভাসে।

হে রাজন, শ্মশানের চিমনিটাকে কাঁপিয়ে দিয়েছে জীবানুর ঝড়,

ভাঙ্গবে অনেক শাঁখা আরো, ভালোবাসা, উত্তোলিত বক্ষপিঞ্জর।

 ঘাতকের তরবারি; প্রজ্জ্বলিত জনপদে পরিশ্রমী নৃপতি বীনা বাজায়

তোমার রামরাজ্যে রাজা, গঙ্গায় সারি সারি শবদেহ ভেসে যায়

ঝকঝকে পোষাক তোমার, মৃদু হাস্যময় তোমার চিবুক

অবশেষে মানুষ দেখেছে তোমার নির্মম, ভয়াবহ মুখ।

 কোন কিন্তু নয় আর, বাইরে এসো, উচ্চকন্ঠে বল বারবার,

“উলঙ্গ রাজা তুমি নির্বোধ! চুপ করে থাকবো না আর।“

বিদ্ধস্ত জনপদ, চিতার আগুন মেঘবর্ত্ম ছুঁয়ে ফেলে প্রায়

 

তুমি কি দেখ না রাজা, গঙ্গায় সারি সারি লাশ বয়ে যায়?

 

*

 

English Translation by Salil Tripathi >>>

 

Don’t worry, be happy, in one voice speak the corpses
O King, in your Ram-Rajya, we see bodies flow in the Ganges

O King, the woods are ashes,
No spots remain at crematoria,
O King, there are no carers,
Nor any pall-bearers,
No mourners left
And we are bereft
With our wordless dirges of dysphoria

Libitina enters every home where she dances and then prances,
O King, in your Ram-Rajya, our bodies flow in the Ganges

O King, the melting chimney quivers, the virus has us shaken
O King, our bangles shatter, our heaving chest lies broken

The city burns as he fiddles, Billa-Ranga thrust their lances,
O King, in your Ram-Rajya, I see bodies flow in the Ganges

O King, your attire sparkles as you shine and glow and blaze
O King, this entire city has at last seen your real face

Show your guts, no ifs and buts,
Come out and shout and say it loud,
“The naked King is lame and weak”
Show me you are no longer meek,
Flames rise high and reach the sky, the furious city rages;
O King, in your Ram-Rajya, do you see bodies flow in the Ganges?

 

*

 

Hindi translation by Ilyas Sheikh >>>

 

एक साथ सब मुर्दे बोले ‘सब कुछ चंगा-चंगा’
साहेब तुम्हारे रामराज में शव-वाहिनी गंगा

ख़त्म हुए शमशान तुम्हारे, ख़त्म काष्ठ की बोरी
थके हमारे कंधे सारे, आँखें रह गई कोरी
दर-दर जाकर यमदूत खेले
मौत का नाच बेढंगा
साहेब तुम्हारे रामराज में शव-वाहिनी गंगा

नित लगातार जलती चिताएँ
राहत माँगे पलभर
नित लगातार टूटे चूड़ियाँ
कुटती छाति घर घर
देख लपटों को फ़िडल बजाते वाह रे ‘बिल्ला-रंगा’
साहेब तुम्हारे रामराज में शव-वाहिनी गंगा

साहेब तुम्हारे दिव्य वस्त्र, दैदीप्य तुम्हारी ज्योति
काश असलियत लोग समझते, हो तुम पत्थर, ना मोती
हो हिम्मत तो आके बोलो
‘मेरा साहेब नंगा’
साहेब तुम्हारे रामराज में शव-वाहिनी गंगा

 

The original in Gujarati >>>

 

એક અવાજે મડદાં બોલ્યાં ‘સબ કુછ ચંગા-ચંગા’
રાજ, તમારા રામરાજ્યમાં શબવાહિની ગંગા.
રાજ, તમારા મસાણ ખૂટયા, ખૂટયા લક્કડભારા,
રાજ, અમારા ડાઘૂ ખૂટયા, ખૂટયા રોવણહારા,
ઘરેઘરે જઈ જમડાંટોળી કરતી નાચ કઢંગા
રાજ, તમારા રામરાજ્યમાં શબવાહિની ગંગા.
રાજ, તમારી ધગધગ ધૂણતી ચીમની પોરો માંગે,
રાજ, અમારી ચૂડલી ફૂટે, ધડધડ છાતી ભાંગે
બળતું જોઈ ફીડલ વગાડે ‘વાહ રે બિલ્લા-રંગા’!
રાજ, તમારા રામરાજ્યમાં શબવાહિની ગંગા.
રાજ, તમારા દિવ્ય વસ્ત્ર ને દિવ્ય તમારી જ્યોતિ
રાજ, તમોને અસલી રૂપે આખી નગરી જોતી
હોય મરદ તે આવી બોલો  ‘રાજા મેરા નંગા’
રાજ, તમારા રામરાજ્યમાં શબવાહિની ગંગા.