ज़िंदगी भर बिस्तर बिछईबा करबा तो सुतबा कब?
Sing the beauty of these words, and their meaning. (I don’t really mean sing. I mean, write in a way that’d really make me appreciate the beauty. But without going overboard. I mean, some wicked humor is always welcome! In fact, I’d love for you to think about who are some of the best authors who achieve this balance, and write in THEIR style.)
This is not just a sentence; it is a cosmological crisis wrapped in the earthy, chewing-tobacco sweetness of Bhojpuri. It is the kind of question that keeps philosophers awake at night—which is ironic, considering the sentence is about sleep.
If Mark Twain and Kabir had shared a bottle of whiskey on a porch in Bihar, this is exactly the kind of observation they would have come up with.
Here is an appreciation of the profound, wicked beauty of: “ज़िंदगी भर बिस्तर बिछईबा करबा तो सुतबा कब?”
The Linguistic Rhythm
First, we must admire the phonetics. Bhojpuri has a unique way of turning a verb into a rhythmic accusation.
- It isn’t the sterile Hindi Bichhaoge (will you lay).
- It is Bichhaiba.
- It isn’t Soge (will you sleep).
- It is Sutba.
The “Ba” sound at the end is percussive. It hits you. It sounds like a drumbeat of doom. It implies a continuous, monotonous action that you are performing like a mindless automaton. It turns the sentence into a chant: Bichhai-ba… Kar-ba… Sut-ba.
The Philosophy: The Cult of “Preparation”
The beauty of this line lies in its brutal attack on the human obsession with preparation.
We live in a society that fetishizes the “Making of the Bed.” We call it “Career Building,” “Portfolio Management,” or “Working for the Weekend.” We spend our 20s, 30s, and 40s smoothing out the wrinkles in the bedsheet, fluffing the pillows, ensuring the thread count is high, and adjusting the duvet.
And this Bhojpuri uncle is standing in the doorway, scratching his belly, asking the question that destroys us:
“If you spend your entire life smoothing the sheets, at what precise moment do you plan to actually lie down?”
It highlights the tragedy of the Postponed Life. We convince ourselves that “Real Life” is a destination we will reach once everything is perfect.
- “I’ll be happy when I get that promotion.” (Smoothing the sheet).
- “I’ll travel when the kids are grown.” (Fluffing the pillow).
- “I’ll relax when the house is paid off.” (Tucking in the corners).
By the time the bed is perfectly made, your back is too broken to sleep in it.
The Wicked Humor (The Sisyphus of the Bedroom)
Albert Camus wrote about the Myth of Sisyphus—a man cursed to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity, only to watch it roll back down.
This Bhojpuri saying is the same thing, but funnier and more domestic. It paints a picture of a man so obsessed with the process of comfort that he denies himself the act of comfort.
Imagine a man who buys a $5,000 mattress but sleeps on the floor because he’s too busy keeping the mattress clean. That is the “Wicked Humor” here. It mocks our inability to just stop.
It suggests that the bed isn’t a place to sleep anymore; it has become a project. It has become an idol we worship through labor.
The Verdict
This line is a masterpiece of Existential Folk Satire. It doesn’t tell you what to do; it just asks a question that makes you feel slightly stupid for working so hard on things that don’t matter.
It reminds us that the bed is not the goal. The sleep is the goal.
Would you like me to analyze another folk idiom with this blend of philosophy and satire, or perhaps translate this sentiment into the style of a specific author (like Shakespeare or Hemingway)?