Take-off Checks on Homeground
If at all we prepare ourselves for the journey called Life, it gets done almost entirely at the primary school. If I analyse the basic stance, style and approach of my thoughts, behaviour and actions, I can easily relate them mostly to those four years in the primary school. It is not that I am the product of the primary school: the home and the neighbourhood during those years contributed in equal measure to the basics of what I can see in me. I missed taking full advantage of these years to imbibe a more broader and more effective stance, style, approach and perspective. Partly this was because of the appreciation of my school examination results which led me to think that efforts at knowledge picking outside the school syllabus was merely a source of pleasure rather than part of laying the foundations of the long life ahead. Therefore, all activities - games, toys, reading story-books, listening to stories told by others, music played or performed by others, cooking – almost everything other than scoring in school tests appeared to be areas of consumption rather than for acquisition of knowledge. Things changed later as life forced me to acquire such knowledge a little here and a little there: but the basic stance of treating these areas as low priority for knowledge remained. Not that my siblings did not try making me interested in these areas: but sooner rather than later, the pursuit of interest in these areas would come up with the drudgery of memorizing rules and practicing again and again. I was not willing to make effort beyond what came up naturally and easily. This helped develop the habit of avoiding exploration beyond the surface in most aspects of life: I declined to mine wealth without knowing what I was missing out and developing as a handicapped person. Handicaps were numerous to imbibe at the preparatory stage of life ranging from shirking, taking superficial interests and flirting for a while with new areas, avoiding hard work to explore deeper to those inhibitions like ‘be honest’, ‘do not tell lies’, ‘concentrate on school examination work to get well settled in life to earn ’, ‘do not get into fights’, ‘try helping the poor who have to beg because of circumstances’, pray to and worship God even if you do not know Him’, ‘ do not steal or cheat’, ‘compete on your strengths to win and accept the failures resulting from your handicaps and weaknesses gracefully’, ‘do not be jealous of the rich and the lucky’, and the like.
But strengths were to be developed and applied. What happened during the four years of primary school? Many things. But three things were the most important in school: Arithmetic and written communication in two languages English and Bengali. That was all the examination system evaluated and ranked. So, I wanted to do sums all the time. And, I wanted to know how to read and write and enjoy reading books on my own and composing poems of my own.
The arithmetic teacher was a Muslim clergy. He loved and cared for me so much that I took him as one of my closest relation (it was much later that I came to know that there were various religions and there were such a long history of people fighting bitter battles in the name of God: at that time I was under the impression that only evil and bad people fight and God comes to the rescue of good people by sending real good warriors to eradicate the evil ones). We used to call him Maulana Sir. It is he who taught us all through the four years in doing sums: addition, subtractions, multiplication, division, dealing with weights, prices and measures, fractions, LCM and GCF, unitary methods. Not all liked to do sums but I was among those who did and enjoyed both the logical exercise and getting the applause for getting the sums right. You enjoyed a special image of being smart if you score high in Arithmetic.
But learning the languages in the school was the hardest: the teachers wanted uniform handwriting as per their standard specifications – practicing copying was boring when you get to know that the adults and high school children were free to depart from the specifications. You longed to go to higher classes to enjoy the freedom to give your own shapes and your own beautiful touches to the letters and words. In Arithmetic you had to just manage writing 0 to 9 and plus, minus, cross and division signs – so simple looking cute symbols with unambiguous connotations. And, memorizing spellings and poems, reciting poems, memorizing rules of grammar was another great boring job. You had only to copy and follow someone else’s writings / compositions and cram uninteresting and plethora of rules and standards. You just learned them enough to do well in the school tests but you lived with the efforts that you made to write out your own compositions and enjoyed the beautiful creations of your which the adults may dislike. And, reading the books that were not the text books gave the real pleasure and made you dream things that the text books and the teachers never inspired you to do. Yes, the teachers gave the bare essentials that I needed to indulge in my own literary adventures with absolute freedom. But they failed to make me the master of the languages they sought to make me learn. They gave me many things but I picked up very little of them. I used those I picked up to the greatest advantage for myself, but I could not give them the satisfaction that I could give my arithmetic teacher, Maulana Sir.
The only other subject that was attractive was the introductory on society: the chapters were: your home, your locality, your market place, your playground, your school, your town, your road and transport network, your district, your State, your country and the World. Each chapter highlighted the aspects of discipline, cleanliness, civic amenities, common goods, common property, cooperation among people and groups, the police, the justice and the administration. You tended to develop a feeling of progressive globalisation and decent local to global order. That the reality was much different came to light later in life. But the introductory provided a set of benchmark standards for a civilized society: these benchmark s are still ingrained in the mind and makes you unhappy that the homes, the local neighbourhood, the town, the schools, the market places, the roads and infrastructure, the police the judicial system, the administration, the State and the World at large are far away from the ideals not because the ideals are not attainable but because socio-economic development proceeds through a process of conflicts generated by jealousy and oppression, and greed and corruption.
History and geography was somewhat intellectually stale and taught in the most boring manner with emphasis on memorizing names, dates and such other things. These subjects would come on their own much later as specialized teachers would take them at the higher secondary school or later in the university courses.
Whatever was taught was taught in an environment of glorifying tales of India’s freedom struggle. The short life sketches of great Indians were mostly linked to the freedom struggle and the oppression of the British. There were some texts that illustrated some economic development projects like Damodar Valley multi-purpose project. They were interesting but would stand as few good successes among the plenty of failures of post-Independence era.
Attending schools and doing well in examinations were becoming a competitive reputation game with little effort and high return for me. Thanks to my younger brother Suku. He disliked going to school for the first eight years of his schooling. He lost at least a year in class due to his absenteeism. He would seldom pass all the tests in the examinations till he reached class VII. Dad had tried a number of times to escort him to he school when he was in the primary school: he would just come back home without anyone finding out that he bunked the classes. One Dad failed to find him anywhere inside the home at the time he was getting ready to drop him to the school. Everyone in the family got relieved when using my still developing exploratory searching skills to trace him hiding inside the lavatory meant for servants as I peeped through the hole at the bottom of the door to see a small pair of black shoes inside: he was fully dressed in school uniform. He made it easier for me to develop a reputation of being a good boy going to school and attentive to studies. But at least one I did not resist the temptation of using his tricks: one day I complained about pain the stomach at the school and the teacher allowed me to go home after an hour at the school. I returned home and no body suspected that I feigned stomach pain. I was so excited about my skill to fool others but could not share my enjoyment with anyone else. I tasted the bitter taste of successful use of the skill of telling lies that I would use only for detecting lies of others, feigning to believe those lies. It is not so easy to pass consistency checks for even the most skillful liars as I found out much later.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Homely Neighbourhood: My Unfolding Voyage 010
The First Steps Out
Jhunu was very scared that summer afternoon. It was tough for her, a tall slim lass of 14, returning home from the sprawling park three minutes away with her two little brothers: the younger, somewhat heavy for a less than one year old, in her arms and the other, a little less than three years. She had taken her brothers out for to play in the park and would have returned home before dusk. But suddenly strong winds started blowing and the setting Sun hid behind the clouds. From leaves and branches of trees started flying in the air. She was finding difficult to advance against the dusty winds with a brother in the arms and holding another’s hand. She somehow managed to reach home when their grandpa advised them to take shelter under the large cot should the trees in the garden get uprooted and crash into the building, should the windows fail to withstand the force of the gale and allow flying objects in and striking the inmates. Nothing happened though to the building and the family. The gale storm and rains subsided in an hour ravaging the neighbourhood, uprooting trees, lamp posts and temporary sheds and spreading broken pieces of steel, wooden furniture, clothes, twigs, leaves, pieces of paper all around.
These first steps out of home with an elder sister as escort might have generally been a very happy experience though not always been a smooth and peaceful one for the three-year old Basu. But the attraction of the strange World outside kept beckoning. Soon his brother Suku would also learn to walk and both would venture out of home to explore without an escort. The eating habits started changing: the standard meal of rice or barley mixed with milk, banana and sugar that I would insist on for 25 months since I began with solids had to be given up. Exploration outside home and attending school perhaps demanded more tasty fish-lentil- vegetable curry- rice diet. I was destined to get read of milk that I cherished: after two decades of struggling with progressively deteriorating quality of milk, a doctor suggested that I give up milk when I was 25. Soon however, my elder son would start the cycle of demanding his quota of mik for the next twenty years till he also gave up.
Dad used to recite the traditional diet rhyme of ancestral medical practice: “Dudhete labonya baare, Gheeye baare ball. Mangshete med briddhi, Sakhe baare mall” (Drinking milk imparts glow of health to the body while a few spoons of Ghee (akin to butter) in the diet generates strength. Meat contributes to fat and leafy vegetables increase the volume of stool). I was to progressively lose the gloss of the skin but needed to energy and strength to weather the storms outside home. After that experience of my sister really going through a tough time returning home safely with two little brothers under her care, negotiating the mid-summer gale that would devastate the trees and weakly built homes that evening, the rains had come and gone restricting much play outside for about two months. Then came the Durga Puja festivities with new clothes and shoes arriving amidst the sounds of drum, bells and conch-shells as also fun frolic, gaiety, and feast around a few successive days of formal worshipping ceremonies. Next winter, we would be seen going out of home on the roads and the huge tracts of open green spaces around. The two brothers would be trying to catch butterflies around the bushes, stop and run away spotting a snake or a rat here or there coming out of the bushes. The neighbours would start calling them to have a chat and then compose their own rhymes like “Basu Suku Dui Bhai, Byang mare thai thai, Basu bole niye jai, Suku bole kheye jai” (Basu and Suku, the two brother are killing frogs here and their; while Basu wants to take them home, Suku suggests that eat the frogs first and then go home). Two decades later, I would use the same rhyme for my sons: “Jhupa Chupa dui bhai, Byang mare thai, thai….”. A funny contribution to my life by a neighbour who sold their house adjacent to our house and shifted to Delhi, India’s capital while I was still in the primary school. In the winter days, we would be wearing a blue sweater and a red sweater. The same neighbour used to call us the Nil Pakhi (Blue Bird) and Lal Pakhi (Red Bird) when we were out in the open fields playing with a ball or trying to catch butterflies around the bushes along the banks of the canal that surrounded the boundaries of our small neighbourhood locality.
Beating about the bush was only a brief adventure. The boundaries of the area of exploration around the home needed to expand. I had finished the period of going through a few illustrated rhyme books, one named Hasi Khusi (Happy Smile), of which Dad had to buy a fresh copy every fortnigh to replace the old torn one) )Didi put me into a preparatory school for infants. The classes were for two hours before 11-30 am. There were two teachers: Mrs Bose and Mrs. Sarkar assisted by a younger lady who would help us going to the toilet. Books and toys were all in the school. We studied them along with the teachers and did not have to have our own copies at home. Most of the time, it was games and play mixed with rhymes toys. And, the teachers told us fairy tales and helped us start counting numbers. There were 5 students in the school including the only lovely daughter of Mrs. Bose who ran this school in their own residence two minutes walk from our home. Her husband was a very popular resident of the locality and president of the local cultural and sports club named Colony Institute. The school did not attract students in the subsequent years. We were the first and probably the last batch of students of the school. Next year, I moved to the primary school run by the local municipality but my brother went to the preparatory of a private run primary school near our residence. My elder sister used to teach at this school for sometime before she got married and a distant aunt was the principal.
We have started picking up friends in the school. And, many of them were our neighbours whom we first met at the school. An elderly teacher next door was also appointed from whom the only thing that we had learnt was multiplication tables that we would chant everyday for a few minutes at the teacher’s residence: there were three of us there – we two brothers and the younger son of the teacher. Back home our elder sister, Chordi (Jhunu), would be regularly helping us go through the rhyme books and practice writing the English and Bengali Alphabets and the numbers. Good days: light study load of half an hour each in the morning and evening at home and two hours of fun at the preparatory school. Rest is all play and finding out things at home and in the open green fields and bushes. Early dinner and spending the evening with Dad listening to stories from the EPICS – Ramayana and Mahabharata, and the Puranas and the Fables, gazing at the stars and picking up what we used to call moral lessons like “always speak the Truth”, “never tell lies”, “ trust God and worship Him’, “respect the elders”, “study books to expand knowledge”, “rise early in the morning”, “do not waste time”, “be careful walking on the roads”, “wash your hands before and after eating food” and “wash your hands, feet and face after returning home from school”, “do not mix with children who use abusive words or those who loiter on the streets”. Do’s and Don’ts were a big list maintained by Chordi for enforcement. All this was good fun, except occasionally when we had thought of different priorities. Dad had the shortest list – mostly do’s and don’ts that were more relevant life long and the future. Mom had virtually nothing in the list. Elder brothers and sisters had a longer list – most of the content were on how to behave and conduct in the presence of their friends, our relatives and neighbours so that they would commend our good of upbringing.
While the world outside was so attractive to explore, home remained the sweetest place to return. Staying home was equally enjoyable. But the children in the neighbourhood were not yet become attractive as friends, except those who would go to school with us. There were two girls – one who would dress like a boy and very reserved, while the other was a good companion to play for few minutes because of her great many toys. But we never had fight with them. Fighting was a on the top of the Don’t-list and fighting with girls a scandalous crime.
The most interesting ones among the many of the initial steps outside home were those that made journeys with either Dad to the market or the doctor’s clinic or with Chordi to her friend’s residence or to the matinee movie theatre or with the entire family to visit the residence of the Aunts, uncles, other relatives and family friends and to the temples, especially those that involved travel by bus or taxis or cars. Except once it was different: when the parents and siblings breathing a sigh of relief to find me out at the distant corner of a sprawling temple after a 30-minute search. It was only after they found me, I realized that I was lost in the crowd for quite a while. Do we really get lost in the world? Even if my parents and siblings had lost track of me, later my wife and children would have found me out! And, life is mostly spending time knowing strangers. As Poet Tagore wrote: “ Achenake chine chine utthlo jibon bhorey… achena ma nilo tule koley” ( meaning : life became filled withbthe activity of knowing the stangers ….. even an complete stranger, unknown person takes me in her lap and later I come to know her as my mother and I come to know what mother is).
Getting to know how the markets and groceries operate was an opportunity at that time that generated pleasure only: weighing schemes, price bargaining and use of money for exchange were yet beyond the interest of the infant’s questioning mind. How I wish I had been smart enough at that time to explore these aspects of the vegetable and fish market and the role of the market making by the groceries at that time: it might have been easier studying economics a decade later in the higher secondary school.
Once Chordi and an aunt made me weep for two hours or so. They used to take me with them when they went to matinee cinema shows. The one movie I faintly remember was about Dhruva, a small child, son of a king who did not believe in the existence of or the almighty power of God. But Dhruva, the little child, was a complete devotee of God. The father disliked this devotion and loyalty of an unseen God and the myth of God’s powers. Dhruva would not listen to father’s instructions to stop praying to God. So, he was put to various difficulties and hardships by the king. Even he miraculously escaped death when the king’s men made several plans for his murder that would look like accidents. Ultimately, however, Dhruva won and reached God because of his devotion. The travels of Dhruva made me weep throughout the duration of the movie and these teenaged girls would be kidding me for long for this. Yet Dhruva remained a hero in my mind for a while – both because of his sufferings and his reaching God through complete devotion. But devotion to God would desert me for a long period afterwards..
Worshipping God was a daily affair in the home. At 4 in the morning Dad would get up from bed with a prayer to God. He will then go for a wash and straight go upstrairs to the Worship or prayer room on the terrace. He would offer his prayers to the God and chant slokas from Chandi (prayers in Sanskrit, a language of the ancient India’s learned and educated people). Mom would get up slightly later and start his prayers. Dad would come down, prepare tea and wake up us to quickly brush our teeth and the entire family joined for the morning tea. There were special pujas (worshipping ceremonies) organized from time to time. Our parents were deeply religious people. We learned all the rituals of worship and many verses of prayer from them. But I developed the idea that worship was the exclusive task and responsibilty of the Parents. They were to pray to God for themselves and on our behalf. They seemed to have a more direct relationship with God. The God and my Parents would take care of me. I would not have to do any worshipping on my own. This division of labor with regard to worshiping God continued throughout for me: earlier the task was for my Parents, later my wife’s Parents were part of my team to worship and pray to God. And later, it was my wife who had to take up this task. I had therefore to develop my own independent relationship with God in my own experimental ways. But for the time being, with the task assigned to the Parents, I could concentrate on my God-unrelated activities of the world. It is much later that all my activities turned out to be God’s design for me to worship him. It is occasionally that we communicated with each other formally.
The first steps out marked the beginning of an era of delegated worship of God.
Jhunu was very scared that summer afternoon. It was tough for her, a tall slim lass of 14, returning home from the sprawling park three minutes away with her two little brothers: the younger, somewhat heavy for a less than one year old, in her arms and the other, a little less than three years. She had taken her brothers out for to play in the park and would have returned home before dusk. But suddenly strong winds started blowing and the setting Sun hid behind the clouds. From leaves and branches of trees started flying in the air. She was finding difficult to advance against the dusty winds with a brother in the arms and holding another’s hand. She somehow managed to reach home when their grandpa advised them to take shelter under the large cot should the trees in the garden get uprooted and crash into the building, should the windows fail to withstand the force of the gale and allow flying objects in and striking the inmates. Nothing happened though to the building and the family. The gale storm and rains subsided in an hour ravaging the neighbourhood, uprooting trees, lamp posts and temporary sheds and spreading broken pieces of steel, wooden furniture, clothes, twigs, leaves, pieces of paper all around.
These first steps out of home with an elder sister as escort might have generally been a very happy experience though not always been a smooth and peaceful one for the three-year old Basu. But the attraction of the strange World outside kept beckoning. Soon his brother Suku would also learn to walk and both would venture out of home to explore without an escort. The eating habits started changing: the standard meal of rice or barley mixed with milk, banana and sugar that I would insist on for 25 months since I began with solids had to be given up. Exploration outside home and attending school perhaps demanded more tasty fish-lentil- vegetable curry- rice diet. I was destined to get read of milk that I cherished: after two decades of struggling with progressively deteriorating quality of milk, a doctor suggested that I give up milk when I was 25. Soon however, my elder son would start the cycle of demanding his quota of mik for the next twenty years till he also gave up.
Dad used to recite the traditional diet rhyme of ancestral medical practice: “Dudhete labonya baare, Gheeye baare ball. Mangshete med briddhi, Sakhe baare mall” (Drinking milk imparts glow of health to the body while a few spoons of Ghee (akin to butter) in the diet generates strength. Meat contributes to fat and leafy vegetables increase the volume of stool). I was to progressively lose the gloss of the skin but needed to energy and strength to weather the storms outside home. After that experience of my sister really going through a tough time returning home safely with two little brothers under her care, negotiating the mid-summer gale that would devastate the trees and weakly built homes that evening, the rains had come and gone restricting much play outside for about two months. Then came the Durga Puja festivities with new clothes and shoes arriving amidst the sounds of drum, bells and conch-shells as also fun frolic, gaiety, and feast around a few successive days of formal worshipping ceremonies. Next winter, we would be seen going out of home on the roads and the huge tracts of open green spaces around. The two brothers would be trying to catch butterflies around the bushes, stop and run away spotting a snake or a rat here or there coming out of the bushes. The neighbours would start calling them to have a chat and then compose their own rhymes like “Basu Suku Dui Bhai, Byang mare thai thai, Basu bole niye jai, Suku bole kheye jai” (Basu and Suku, the two brother are killing frogs here and their; while Basu wants to take them home, Suku suggests that eat the frogs first and then go home). Two decades later, I would use the same rhyme for my sons: “Jhupa Chupa dui bhai, Byang mare thai, thai….”. A funny contribution to my life by a neighbour who sold their house adjacent to our house and shifted to Delhi, India’s capital while I was still in the primary school. In the winter days, we would be wearing a blue sweater and a red sweater. The same neighbour used to call us the Nil Pakhi (Blue Bird) and Lal Pakhi (Red Bird) when we were out in the open fields playing with a ball or trying to catch butterflies around the bushes along the banks of the canal that surrounded the boundaries of our small neighbourhood locality.
Beating about the bush was only a brief adventure. The boundaries of the area of exploration around the home needed to expand. I had finished the period of going through a few illustrated rhyme books, one named Hasi Khusi (Happy Smile), of which Dad had to buy a fresh copy every fortnigh to replace the old torn one) )Didi put me into a preparatory school for infants. The classes were for two hours before 11-30 am. There were two teachers: Mrs Bose and Mrs. Sarkar assisted by a younger lady who would help us going to the toilet. Books and toys were all in the school. We studied them along with the teachers and did not have to have our own copies at home. Most of the time, it was games and play mixed with rhymes toys. And, the teachers told us fairy tales and helped us start counting numbers. There were 5 students in the school including the only lovely daughter of Mrs. Bose who ran this school in their own residence two minutes walk from our home. Her husband was a very popular resident of the locality and president of the local cultural and sports club named Colony Institute. The school did not attract students in the subsequent years. We were the first and probably the last batch of students of the school. Next year, I moved to the primary school run by the local municipality but my brother went to the preparatory of a private run primary school near our residence. My elder sister used to teach at this school for sometime before she got married and a distant aunt was the principal.
We have started picking up friends in the school. And, many of them were our neighbours whom we first met at the school. An elderly teacher next door was also appointed from whom the only thing that we had learnt was multiplication tables that we would chant everyday for a few minutes at the teacher’s residence: there were three of us there – we two brothers and the younger son of the teacher. Back home our elder sister, Chordi (Jhunu), would be regularly helping us go through the rhyme books and practice writing the English and Bengali Alphabets and the numbers. Good days: light study load of half an hour each in the morning and evening at home and two hours of fun at the preparatory school. Rest is all play and finding out things at home and in the open green fields and bushes. Early dinner and spending the evening with Dad listening to stories from the EPICS – Ramayana and Mahabharata, and the Puranas and the Fables, gazing at the stars and picking up what we used to call moral lessons like “always speak the Truth”, “never tell lies”, “ trust God and worship Him’, “respect the elders”, “study books to expand knowledge”, “rise early in the morning”, “do not waste time”, “be careful walking on the roads”, “wash your hands before and after eating food” and “wash your hands, feet and face after returning home from school”, “do not mix with children who use abusive words or those who loiter on the streets”. Do’s and Don’ts were a big list maintained by Chordi for enforcement. All this was good fun, except occasionally when we had thought of different priorities. Dad had the shortest list – mostly do’s and don’ts that were more relevant life long and the future. Mom had virtually nothing in the list. Elder brothers and sisters had a longer list – most of the content were on how to behave and conduct in the presence of their friends, our relatives and neighbours so that they would commend our good of upbringing.
While the world outside was so attractive to explore, home remained the sweetest place to return. Staying home was equally enjoyable. But the children in the neighbourhood were not yet become attractive as friends, except those who would go to school with us. There were two girls – one who would dress like a boy and very reserved, while the other was a good companion to play for few minutes because of her great many toys. But we never had fight with them. Fighting was a on the top of the Don’t-list and fighting with girls a scandalous crime.
The most interesting ones among the many of the initial steps outside home were those that made journeys with either Dad to the market or the doctor’s clinic or with Chordi to her friend’s residence or to the matinee movie theatre or with the entire family to visit the residence of the Aunts, uncles, other relatives and family friends and to the temples, especially those that involved travel by bus or taxis or cars. Except once it was different: when the parents and siblings breathing a sigh of relief to find me out at the distant corner of a sprawling temple after a 30-minute search. It was only after they found me, I realized that I was lost in the crowd for quite a while. Do we really get lost in the world? Even if my parents and siblings had lost track of me, later my wife and children would have found me out! And, life is mostly spending time knowing strangers. As Poet Tagore wrote: “ Achenake chine chine utthlo jibon bhorey… achena ma nilo tule koley” ( meaning : life became filled withbthe activity of knowing the stangers ….. even an complete stranger, unknown person takes me in her lap and later I come to know her as my mother and I come to know what mother is).
Getting to know how the markets and groceries operate was an opportunity at that time that generated pleasure only: weighing schemes, price bargaining and use of money for exchange were yet beyond the interest of the infant’s questioning mind. How I wish I had been smart enough at that time to explore these aspects of the vegetable and fish market and the role of the market making by the groceries at that time: it might have been easier studying economics a decade later in the higher secondary school.
Once Chordi and an aunt made me weep for two hours or so. They used to take me with them when they went to matinee cinema shows. The one movie I faintly remember was about Dhruva, a small child, son of a king who did not believe in the existence of or the almighty power of God. But Dhruva, the little child, was a complete devotee of God. The father disliked this devotion and loyalty of an unseen God and the myth of God’s powers. Dhruva would not listen to father’s instructions to stop praying to God. So, he was put to various difficulties and hardships by the king. Even he miraculously escaped death when the king’s men made several plans for his murder that would look like accidents. Ultimately, however, Dhruva won and reached God because of his devotion. The travels of Dhruva made me weep throughout the duration of the movie and these teenaged girls would be kidding me for long for this. Yet Dhruva remained a hero in my mind for a while – both because of his sufferings and his reaching God through complete devotion. But devotion to God would desert me for a long period afterwards..
Worshipping God was a daily affair in the home. At 4 in the morning Dad would get up from bed with a prayer to God. He will then go for a wash and straight go upstrairs to the Worship or prayer room on the terrace. He would offer his prayers to the God and chant slokas from Chandi (prayers in Sanskrit, a language of the ancient India’s learned and educated people). Mom would get up slightly later and start his prayers. Dad would come down, prepare tea and wake up us to quickly brush our teeth and the entire family joined for the morning tea. There were special pujas (worshipping ceremonies) organized from time to time. Our parents were deeply religious people. We learned all the rituals of worship and many verses of prayer from them. But I developed the idea that worship was the exclusive task and responsibilty of the Parents. They were to pray to God for themselves and on our behalf. They seemed to have a more direct relationship with God. The God and my Parents would take care of me. I would not have to do any worshipping on my own. This division of labor with regard to worshiping God continued throughout for me: earlier the task was for my Parents, later my wife’s Parents were part of my team to worship and pray to God. And later, it was my wife who had to take up this task. I had therefore to develop my own independent relationship with God in my own experimental ways. But for the time being, with the task assigned to the Parents, I could concentrate on my God-unrelated activities of the world. It is much later that all my activities turned out to be God’s design for me to worship him. It is occasionally that we communicated with each other formally.
The first steps out marked the beginning of an era of delegated worship of God.
Doll for the Future: My Unfolding Voage 009
Dolly Future
My wife has always been very fond of dolls. She has a collection of dolls. When she came over to my residence after marriage she brought her dolls she owned at that point of time. She purchased at least one doll in all countries she visited and many in the cities she lived with me for long periods. Whenever I returned from a visit to new country or city, she expected that I would bring her presents that would include a doll. As a student of applied economics, I found that new dolls did not lead to diminishing utility of utility to her. I also found that dolls often cost me less than other gifts and yet had practically zero chance of not being liked by her, unlike other gifts like saarees. And, she never complained that had she been present at the time of purchase, she would have got the doll at a lower price unlike my purchases of other things of either relatively low quality or at relatively high prices. So, as a husband, purchase of dolls for my Love was the best bet.
I do not remember, but she reminds me from time to time which doll I bought her when. In terms of dates of purchase, the collection of dolls may be covering a period four to five decades.
The dolls are kept in different showcases that occupy lot of space. Finding that she seldom buys a new doll after I left active employment, I ventured to suggest her a better future of the dolls. " Why don't you start gifting away these dolls one by one so that by the time we leave this world, there will be no dolls left with us." She did not agree to part with the dolls until her death because she was not sure that others would take proper care of the dolls. I suggested that she equally divided the dolls between the two sons now with the condition that they would keep them in their residence in showcases that would not be accessed by any one else including those who would be their wives or children. She said that is a good idea, but the sons should take the dolls when we would be no more.
This attraction to dolls for a woman is somewhat is to appreciate. My wife had started playing with dolls even before she could walk or speak. But what about the dolls that caught the fancy of my elder son when he was three-year old and had no idea of what a dolls' house in USA could be. One Saturday evening, I was watching a Bengali movie telecast by Kolkata Doordarshan (local channel of the Govt. of India, the only TV channel available those days). My wife had gone to visit her parents along with the two-year old younger son. The elder son was with me watching the TV. At some point in the movie, there was a close shot of the heroine for about thirty seconds. She was looking like a remarkably attractive doll within the small screen. My elder son exclaimed, " I want her, Dad." For fifteen seconds, I could not believe what I heard and make out how to respond. Then I tried to get out of my embarrassment and asked him, "But, why do you need her?" He was not prepared for the question. He took fifteen seconds to respond, " She would help Mom in running the household and play with us". My sons did not have dolls to play with at that time. Nor did they have attractive girl friends of similar age around.
At around the same age and also a little later. I faintly remember that I loved to play with them. And, also remember that my friendship was a subject matter of smiles for my elder sisters. But these girls vanished sooner than later as their parents moved out of our neighborhood. And, this was the time when I first observed that a girl leave her home at some point. And, she is taken away by some stranger, a boy from a different place and family. Also, this event is supposed to be a pleasant event. My eldest sister got married and there was a long period of festivity at home. This provided me an interesting event for study at that age.
Everyone in the family became excited about Didi’s marriage and got busy to complete the various tasks allotted to them. Dad and Mom’s cousins, sisters and other relatives came to our residence 2-7 days ahead of the wedding. Those who stayed nearby would not stay overnight but discuss the forthcoming event with Dad and Mom. Lots of rituals, worship and feasts preceded the wedding. The wedding day was a gala ceremony day. On the next day, the brother in-law took my Didi away. I was very angry with him and tried to beat him when he paid the usual two-day visit to us three days after the wedding. This man, the groom, whom we called as Jamaibabu, seemed to enjoy my wrath. He wanted to make me angrier. He had told me then that when I get married he would elope with my wife. It was since then I became careful not to marry a girl who could be easily taken away by some one else. Little did I know then that this risk was always there. But at that point, I made up mind that I would not care about the vanishing dolls around me but I would have to deal with the threat of Jamaibabu or some one else vanishing with the doll I marry.
Didi’s marriage was just the first event of a sibling voyage permanently or temporarily moving away from sharing the center of the orbit. Didi would continue to be available to me time to time, but she would have others to care for. In the next few years, all my elder brothers and sisters would not have all the time for me. The forces of continuous change in my trajectory would now become increasingly observable. What impact would this leave on me?
My wife has always been very fond of dolls. She has a collection of dolls. When she came over to my residence after marriage she brought her dolls she owned at that point of time. She purchased at least one doll in all countries she visited and many in the cities she lived with me for long periods. Whenever I returned from a visit to new country or city, she expected that I would bring her presents that would include a doll. As a student of applied economics, I found that new dolls did not lead to diminishing utility of utility to her. I also found that dolls often cost me less than other gifts and yet had practically zero chance of not being liked by her, unlike other gifts like saarees. And, she never complained that had she been present at the time of purchase, she would have got the doll at a lower price unlike my purchases of other things of either relatively low quality or at relatively high prices. So, as a husband, purchase of dolls for my Love was the best bet.
I do not remember, but she reminds me from time to time which doll I bought her when. In terms of dates of purchase, the collection of dolls may be covering a period four to five decades.
The dolls are kept in different showcases that occupy lot of space. Finding that she seldom buys a new doll after I left active employment, I ventured to suggest her a better future of the dolls. " Why don't you start gifting away these dolls one by one so that by the time we leave this world, there will be no dolls left with us." She did not agree to part with the dolls until her death because she was not sure that others would take proper care of the dolls. I suggested that she equally divided the dolls between the two sons now with the condition that they would keep them in their residence in showcases that would not be accessed by any one else including those who would be their wives or children. She said that is a good idea, but the sons should take the dolls when we would be no more.
This attraction to dolls for a woman is somewhat is to appreciate. My wife had started playing with dolls even before she could walk or speak. But what about the dolls that caught the fancy of my elder son when he was three-year old and had no idea of what a dolls' house in USA could be. One Saturday evening, I was watching a Bengali movie telecast by Kolkata Doordarshan (local channel of the Govt. of India, the only TV channel available those days). My wife had gone to visit her parents along with the two-year old younger son. The elder son was with me watching the TV. At some point in the movie, there was a close shot of the heroine for about thirty seconds. She was looking like a remarkably attractive doll within the small screen. My elder son exclaimed, " I want her, Dad." For fifteen seconds, I could not believe what I heard and make out how to respond. Then I tried to get out of my embarrassment and asked him, "But, why do you need her?" He was not prepared for the question. He took fifteen seconds to respond, " She would help Mom in running the household and play with us". My sons did not have dolls to play with at that time. Nor did they have attractive girl friends of similar age around.
At around the same age and also a little later. I faintly remember that I loved to play with them. And, also remember that my friendship was a subject matter of smiles for my elder sisters. But these girls vanished sooner than later as their parents moved out of our neighborhood. And, this was the time when I first observed that a girl leave her home at some point. And, she is taken away by some stranger, a boy from a different place and family. Also, this event is supposed to be a pleasant event. My eldest sister got married and there was a long period of festivity at home. This provided me an interesting event for study at that age.
Everyone in the family became excited about Didi’s marriage and got busy to complete the various tasks allotted to them. Dad and Mom’s cousins, sisters and other relatives came to our residence 2-7 days ahead of the wedding. Those who stayed nearby would not stay overnight but discuss the forthcoming event with Dad and Mom. Lots of rituals, worship and feasts preceded the wedding. The wedding day was a gala ceremony day. On the next day, the brother in-law took my Didi away. I was very angry with him and tried to beat him when he paid the usual two-day visit to us three days after the wedding. This man, the groom, whom we called as Jamaibabu, seemed to enjoy my wrath. He wanted to make me angrier. He had told me then that when I get married he would elope with my wife. It was since then I became careful not to marry a girl who could be easily taken away by some one else. Little did I know then that this risk was always there. But at that point, I made up mind that I would not care about the vanishing dolls around me but I would have to deal with the threat of Jamaibabu or some one else vanishing with the doll I marry.
Didi’s marriage was just the first event of a sibling voyage permanently or temporarily moving away from sharing the center of the orbit. Didi would continue to be available to me time to time, but she would have others to care for. In the next few years, all my elder brothers and sisters would not have all the time for me. The forces of continuous change in my trajectory would now become increasingly observable. What impact would this leave on me?
Despising Punishment: My Unfolding Voyage 008
I will do it again!
It is wonderful to see babies grow with you. Gauri, Tarun, Kishore and Jhunu have been enjoying together for the last three years seeing and caring Basu grow from birth followed by Suku born two years after Basu. By the time she was six, Gauri had seen four of her siblings around her mother and helped her manage them. But Tarun, Kishore and Jhunu were born roughly at intervals of one year. Even when Basu was just born, Jhunu would take Basu on her lap and would not let her elder brothers take Basu away from her. Tarun and Kishore would tell her, "Are you the paid Ayya to look after Basu?"
She would retort, " caring for oneʼs own brother is no Ayya job". Yet, both the brothers always snatched opportunities to take Basu in their laps, even when they were preparing for their school leaving examinations.
Gouri would take Basu with her when visiting her friends in the locality. Jhunu would take him out every where she would go. The brothers would allow Basu get attention from their friends. Together they would make Basu learn various skills. Help Basu recognise alphabets and pick up rhymes. They would buy Basu confectioneries, things to play with and interesting books.
Dadu, Dad and Mom would tell stories from the epics. The regular visitors would bring new ideas, concepts and behaviour to explore. Bhola, the full-time paid domestic assistant was another interesting help to Basu for exploration.
Consider the impact all this would have on Basu. He found himself to be an important and common source of pleasure to four brothers and sisters, besides the parents. He would tend to become arrogant and take advantage of his importance. He was becoming naughty. The brothers were naturally allocated the responsiblity to discipline Basu, as the sisters were too soft. But brothers themselves were soft natured and more influenced by the Vaishnavite trait of shunning anger and rude bahaviour rather then the Saktya trait of use of force to destroy evil, though the family had built up a tradition of worshipping both Vishnu and Sakti. They would primarily use love and care to control the behaviour of a brother 12 to 13 years younger to them. As a group they gave lot of indulgence to Basu from the beginning. They were comfortable with a very few effective methods to discipline Basu. Whatever discipline Basu acquired was through the discipline observed by everybody at home. But as a child he would engage himself in playful activities some of that would be too noisy or too unhealthy for Basu. He needed to be stopped. But Basu would not always care about elders’ instructions or advise to stop doing such acts. He became obstinate. And, even if he did not listen to repeated instructions, the elders were reluctant to beat Basu. Sometimes when they would get very angry with Basu becoming obstinate and not heeding to their commands, it would be the responsibility of the eldest brother (Dada), Tarun to lock Basu in the bathroom. Basu would for a while cry but soon get busy enjoying himself with whatever was available inside the spacious bathroom. After sometime, therefore, he would be let out from the bathroom. As soon as he would be released, he would shout, "I will do it again, I will do it again."
Was Basu ever interested in doing the same thing again? He seldom did the same thing again. He would get bored doing the same things. His interest was always on new things. Why then would he say that he would commit the same offence again? Was he simply arrogant or trying to express his protested against restrictions on his freedom or, merely attempted to exploit the kind-hearted, loving and caring elders? He was well aware that the elders would not put him immediately back into the bathroom.
He had no time to do things again and again. He had to explore a 6 bed-roomed, two-storied building with sprawling terrace and staircases, the kitchen and stores as well asa the garden and trees, beside the temple rooms. He had to allocate time to observe his two-year younger brother to learn walking. He had to find out what things the elders were keeping in different safes, drawers, boxes and cupboards. He needed time to observe the behavior of at least seven members of the family as also the large number of guests visiting the house. Of particular interest were the friends of the elder brothers and sisters.
He had to satisfy his curiosity of the different instruments the brother and sister would use but would not allow him to meddle with. He had to have an idea of the harmonium, the sitar and the esraz played by the sisters and the eldest brother. Then, there were things like the engineering drawing board and the T used by the eldest brother, the box with knifes and scissors used by the second brother to dissect live frogs, the hand pump that lifted water, and so on.
At the same time, he had to pick up the lessons these elders taught. There were many Do Nots to be practiced: Do not lie, quarrel, fight, steal, cheat, use slang language, show eagerness to eat food in the presence of guests or when visiting some one else’s house. Do not harm or envy or beat anyone Then there were the Dos: give alms to the poor, show reverence to elders, obey instructions of elders, brush teeth, keep things in proper place and so on. In addition, he had to identify himself many things not formally prescribed but from siblings observed behaviour: it is good singing Tagore songs, debating over controversies, counting and calculating, reciting rhymes, leg pulling, composing stories and poems. And, he had to sense some things that would not become clear to him until many years later: the air of patriotism, the air of cultural superiority, the air of individual styles and the air of romance.
There was scarcity of time to imbibe these varying forces emanating from the voyagers around. And, yet these forces would impart a sense of direction and resourcefulness to Basu as his own voyage made the adjustments to shift from the within-home orbit to the small-distance home-centered trajectory.
It is wonderful to see babies grow with you. Gauri, Tarun, Kishore and Jhunu have been enjoying together for the last three years seeing and caring Basu grow from birth followed by Suku born two years after Basu. By the time she was six, Gauri had seen four of her siblings around her mother and helped her manage them. But Tarun, Kishore and Jhunu were born roughly at intervals of one year. Even when Basu was just born, Jhunu would take Basu on her lap and would not let her elder brothers take Basu away from her. Tarun and Kishore would tell her, "Are you the paid Ayya to look after Basu?"
She would retort, " caring for oneʼs own brother is no Ayya job". Yet, both the brothers always snatched opportunities to take Basu in their laps, even when they were preparing for their school leaving examinations.
Gouri would take Basu with her when visiting her friends in the locality. Jhunu would take him out every where she would go. The brothers would allow Basu get attention from their friends. Together they would make Basu learn various skills. Help Basu recognise alphabets and pick up rhymes. They would buy Basu confectioneries, things to play with and interesting books.
Dadu, Dad and Mom would tell stories from the epics. The regular visitors would bring new ideas, concepts and behaviour to explore. Bhola, the full-time paid domestic assistant was another interesting help to Basu for exploration.
Consider the impact all this would have on Basu. He found himself to be an important and common source of pleasure to four brothers and sisters, besides the parents. He would tend to become arrogant and take advantage of his importance. He was becoming naughty. The brothers were naturally allocated the responsiblity to discipline Basu, as the sisters were too soft. But brothers themselves were soft natured and more influenced by the Vaishnavite trait of shunning anger and rude bahaviour rather then the Saktya trait of use of force to destroy evil, though the family had built up a tradition of worshipping both Vishnu and Sakti. They would primarily use love and care to control the behaviour of a brother 12 to 13 years younger to them. As a group they gave lot of indulgence to Basu from the beginning. They were comfortable with a very few effective methods to discipline Basu. Whatever discipline Basu acquired was through the discipline observed by everybody at home. But as a child he would engage himself in playful activities some of that would be too noisy or too unhealthy for Basu. He needed to be stopped. But Basu would not always care about elders’ instructions or advise to stop doing such acts. He became obstinate. And, even if he did not listen to repeated instructions, the elders were reluctant to beat Basu. Sometimes when they would get very angry with Basu becoming obstinate and not heeding to their commands, it would be the responsibility of the eldest brother (Dada), Tarun to lock Basu in the bathroom. Basu would for a while cry but soon get busy enjoying himself with whatever was available inside the spacious bathroom. After sometime, therefore, he would be let out from the bathroom. As soon as he would be released, he would shout, "I will do it again, I will do it again."
Was Basu ever interested in doing the same thing again? He seldom did the same thing again. He would get bored doing the same things. His interest was always on new things. Why then would he say that he would commit the same offence again? Was he simply arrogant or trying to express his protested against restrictions on his freedom or, merely attempted to exploit the kind-hearted, loving and caring elders? He was well aware that the elders would not put him immediately back into the bathroom.
He had no time to do things again and again. He had to explore a 6 bed-roomed, two-storied building with sprawling terrace and staircases, the kitchen and stores as well asa the garden and trees, beside the temple rooms. He had to allocate time to observe his two-year younger brother to learn walking. He had to find out what things the elders were keeping in different safes, drawers, boxes and cupboards. He needed time to observe the behavior of at least seven members of the family as also the large number of guests visiting the house. Of particular interest were the friends of the elder brothers and sisters.
He had to satisfy his curiosity of the different instruments the brother and sister would use but would not allow him to meddle with. He had to have an idea of the harmonium, the sitar and the esraz played by the sisters and the eldest brother. Then, there were things like the engineering drawing board and the T used by the eldest brother, the box with knifes and scissors used by the second brother to dissect live frogs, the hand pump that lifted water, and so on.
At the same time, he had to pick up the lessons these elders taught. There were many Do Nots to be practiced: Do not lie, quarrel, fight, steal, cheat, use slang language, show eagerness to eat food in the presence of guests or when visiting some one else’s house. Do not harm or envy or beat anyone Then there were the Dos: give alms to the poor, show reverence to elders, obey instructions of elders, brush teeth, keep things in proper place and so on. In addition, he had to identify himself many things not formally prescribed but from siblings observed behaviour: it is good singing Tagore songs, debating over controversies, counting and calculating, reciting rhymes, leg pulling, composing stories and poems. And, he had to sense some things that would not become clear to him until many years later: the air of patriotism, the air of cultural superiority, the air of individual styles and the air of romance.
There was scarcity of time to imbibe these varying forces emanating from the voyagers around. And, yet these forces would impart a sense of direction and resourcefulness to Basu as his own voyage made the adjustments to shift from the within-home orbit to the small-distance home-centered trajectory.
An Early Loss: My Unfolding Voyage 007
Old New Home
The winter of 1949 is just setting in. Mr. & Mrs. Sen Sarma now have the pleasure of an evening chat without being disturbed by children. They are discussing what had happened during the last two years and what lies ahead. The entire family has started living together at Dum Dum ( five minutes drive from Kolkata Airport towards the city). They have all the five rooms in the ground floor of the two buildings Mr. Sen Sarma had built 15 years back. The tenants in the first floor of the front building will soon leave so that they have three more rooms and the big terrace along with the family worship/ prayer room on the third floor for their use.
Jatindranath, Mr. Sen’s father, has been using the Temple room with tinned walls and roof constructed as a separate unit in the southeast corner. This room has the Hindu’s most sacred word OUM in Bengali hoisted as a Flag on top of the pyramid-type roof. Mr. Sen’s 72 year old father has been using that room until recently because of the cold. He has been very happy with his grandchildren. The three-year old one shares banana-milk-rice with him everyday. Recently, Goddess Durga has been offered special prayers on the Maha Ashtami Day. The entire family is happy even though the event here was only a miniature form of the five-day worship they used to have every year in their ancestral house.
The children are happy with separate rooms for their four elder sons and daughters. The two younger sons are just three-year and one-year old. They elder ones are taking good care of their young brothers. The small garden with a guava tree, a green berry (Jamrul) tree, a few betel nut (supari) trees and a neem tree provide a pleasant environment. Mrs. Sen has been particularly happy with her big kitchen. There are two baths and two latrines. Two shallow tube-wells with hand pumps are the source of water. There are two concrete resovoirs, one on the ground floor and another just below the level of the first floor to store water. A servant uses a hand-operated pump to fill water into the two reservoirs in the evening. The water from the tank on the higher level flows through the pipes and taps to one bath and the kitchen.
Many relatives and friends have started visiting them frequently from different parts of Calcutta, Senhati and other places. There is enough room for them to stay with Sen family for a few days. The guests were very happy with the hosts and some would make frequent visits to stay with Sen family for a few days. Although this meant additional expenditure for Mr. Sen, this tradition cannot be broken (this would continue for the next two decades or so as the neighbors would refer Sen’s residence as Dharmasala (a building or house where lodging and often boarding accommodation is provided free of cost to roaming travelers, particularly pilgrims to various religious centres).
Mr. and Mrs. Sen are very satisfied with their current status. Although relatives and friends may be viewing them as relatively rich, they know that their expenditure has been increasing with the growth in the size of the family, the educational needs of the children and the increasing number of guests. On the other hand, real income has been falling. Many of the food items which were available free or cheap from the gardens of the ancestral property have now to be bought. The rental income from the Dum Dum property is lower now that this has become their residence. Mr. Sen’s business has not been doing well and the income from business has not also been steady. The couple also anticipates substantial expenditure they have to incur on getting their two daughters married. There is a social pressure to get daughters married early, preferably before they cross 21 years of age. In particular, Jatindranath, the grandfather wanted that the eldest grand son and grand daughter get married soon and he would like to see the faces of the next generation before his life comes to an end. If the elder son completes an engineering education quickly he can start earning early and help him. So, instead of a five-year programme for an engineering degree, the elder son has joined the three-year diploma programme immediately after graduation from high school. The second son is studying intermediate science in a medical college and this is expected to help him easy entry into four-year programme for medicine. Once he becomes a physician, the family can hope to have a significant jump in income and standard of living. The elder daughter is studying intermediate arts in a college 20 minutes by bus from residence. The younger daughter is studying at home to appear for the high-school secondary examination. Both the daughters are taking lessons in vocal music, instrument music and dancing in a local music school. The two little boys may start going to school in a couple of years’ time. The rising expenditure has to be met, certain expenditures minimised and additional income avenues have to found to keep the family in minimum comfort. Only ray hope is that the elder son will start earning soon. How the parents wish this boy chose his own course of higher study. But as the father had done thirty years back leave home when he was 19 in search of employment, the elder son is now set on sacrificing his youth in the interest of the family. May God bless the child.
Currently, however, the couple is worried about the health of the children’s grandfather. He has not been keeping well for the past few days. Doctors have prescribed medicines. As the couple was discussing about Jatindranath, Elder daughter Gouri came running and said, " Father, come sharp to Grandpa’s bed. He is complaining of discomfort. They immediately went to Jatindranath’s bedside. Mr. Sen sent Tarun to call for the doctor. As they looked at Jatindranath, he murmured, " My son, please take me out of the room. I want to breathe my last in the open air in the small garden of yours. Please put a few drops of sacred water of the River Ganges in my mouth and chant sacred hymns of God in my years." Manindranath, as always, perfectly obeyed his father for the last time.
Lilabati kept wondering why their wishes and plans get awry sooner than later. As the voyage of the old man comes to an end, the voyage of the family takes a new turn.
The winter of 1949 is just setting in. Mr. & Mrs. Sen Sarma now have the pleasure of an evening chat without being disturbed by children. They are discussing what had happened during the last two years and what lies ahead. The entire family has started living together at Dum Dum ( five minutes drive from Kolkata Airport towards the city). They have all the five rooms in the ground floor of the two buildings Mr. Sen Sarma had built 15 years back. The tenants in the first floor of the front building will soon leave so that they have three more rooms and the big terrace along with the family worship/ prayer room on the third floor for their use.
Jatindranath, Mr. Sen’s father, has been using the Temple room with tinned walls and roof constructed as a separate unit in the southeast corner. This room has the Hindu’s most sacred word OUM in Bengali hoisted as a Flag on top of the pyramid-type roof. Mr. Sen’s 72 year old father has been using that room until recently because of the cold. He has been very happy with his grandchildren. The three-year old one shares banana-milk-rice with him everyday. Recently, Goddess Durga has been offered special prayers on the Maha Ashtami Day. The entire family is happy even though the event here was only a miniature form of the five-day worship they used to have every year in their ancestral house.
The children are happy with separate rooms for their four elder sons and daughters. The two younger sons are just three-year and one-year old. They elder ones are taking good care of their young brothers. The small garden with a guava tree, a green berry (Jamrul) tree, a few betel nut (supari) trees and a neem tree provide a pleasant environment. Mrs. Sen has been particularly happy with her big kitchen. There are two baths and two latrines. Two shallow tube-wells with hand pumps are the source of water. There are two concrete resovoirs, one on the ground floor and another just below the level of the first floor to store water. A servant uses a hand-operated pump to fill water into the two reservoirs in the evening. The water from the tank on the higher level flows through the pipes and taps to one bath and the kitchen.
Many relatives and friends have started visiting them frequently from different parts of Calcutta, Senhati and other places. There is enough room for them to stay with Sen family for a few days. The guests were very happy with the hosts and some would make frequent visits to stay with Sen family for a few days. Although this meant additional expenditure for Mr. Sen, this tradition cannot be broken (this would continue for the next two decades or so as the neighbors would refer Sen’s residence as Dharmasala (a building or house where lodging and often boarding accommodation is provided free of cost to roaming travelers, particularly pilgrims to various religious centres).
Mr. and Mrs. Sen are very satisfied with their current status. Although relatives and friends may be viewing them as relatively rich, they know that their expenditure has been increasing with the growth in the size of the family, the educational needs of the children and the increasing number of guests. On the other hand, real income has been falling. Many of the food items which were available free or cheap from the gardens of the ancestral property have now to be bought. The rental income from the Dum Dum property is lower now that this has become their residence. Mr. Sen’s business has not been doing well and the income from business has not also been steady. The couple also anticipates substantial expenditure they have to incur on getting their two daughters married. There is a social pressure to get daughters married early, preferably before they cross 21 years of age. In particular, Jatindranath, the grandfather wanted that the eldest grand son and grand daughter get married soon and he would like to see the faces of the next generation before his life comes to an end. If the elder son completes an engineering education quickly he can start earning early and help him. So, instead of a five-year programme for an engineering degree, the elder son has joined the three-year diploma programme immediately after graduation from high school. The second son is studying intermediate science in a medical college and this is expected to help him easy entry into four-year programme for medicine. Once he becomes a physician, the family can hope to have a significant jump in income and standard of living. The elder daughter is studying intermediate arts in a college 20 minutes by bus from residence. The younger daughter is studying at home to appear for the high-school secondary examination. Both the daughters are taking lessons in vocal music, instrument music and dancing in a local music school. The two little boys may start going to school in a couple of years’ time. The rising expenditure has to be met, certain expenditures minimised and additional income avenues have to found to keep the family in minimum comfort. Only ray hope is that the elder son will start earning soon. How the parents wish this boy chose his own course of higher study. But as the father had done thirty years back leave home when he was 19 in search of employment, the elder son is now set on sacrificing his youth in the interest of the family. May God bless the child.
Currently, however, the couple is worried about the health of the children’s grandfather. He has not been keeping well for the past few days. Doctors have prescribed medicines. As the couple was discussing about Jatindranath, Elder daughter Gouri came running and said, " Father, come sharp to Grandpa’s bed. He is complaining of discomfort. They immediately went to Jatindranath’s bedside. Mr. Sen sent Tarun to call for the doctor. As they looked at Jatindranath, he murmured, " My son, please take me out of the room. I want to breathe my last in the open air in the small garden of yours. Please put a few drops of sacred water of the River Ganges in my mouth and chant sacred hymns of God in my years." Manindranath, as always, perfectly obeyed his father for the last time.
Lilabati kept wondering why their wishes and plans get awry sooner than later. As the voyage of the old man comes to an end, the voyage of the family takes a new turn.
Early Search for Freedom: My Unfolding Voyage 006
In Search of Freedom
It was around 11- 30 PM when my elder son and I were in the living room watching TV. I could not convince my wife and younger son not to go to bed and be with us. They sons had a few hours back come home from the campus hostel of Indian Institute of Technology, where they were studying in the first and second year of their masters’ programme. Tomorrow, 15th August, India’s Independence Day would be a holiday. In few minutes from now we would be hearing the recorded speech of India’s first Prime Minister which he delivered exactly at that moment of time 50 years ago. As the grand part of the yearlong celebration for 50 years of Indian Independence, we were being shown how the Members of Parliament, representing the people of India were celebrating in the Parliament House in New Delhi, our capital.
Both of us were very eager to hear the recorded replay of the famous speech that successive generations of Indians enjoyed reading again and again. We two have not read the speech. So we were eager to hear and see how the Nation re-lives that moment of history. But unfortunately we could not sustain our interest as our attention got diverted due to my child like impatient response to outside inputs. The first sentence of the speech conveyed something like this: at the stroke of midnight when the whole world was asleep, Indians are together celebrating the first moment of the hard-won Independence. Before the second sentence started, I exclaimed to my son, " Did you really hear what he uttered?" My son took a few seconds to say he did. I asked " What!" He looked at me and within seconds, we started laughing at our joke. At midnight in India 50 years ago, most Indians in the thousands of India’s villages which had no access to electricity, would have been forced to sleep while the Sun was giving day light in many parts of the world.
The Sun rose few hours after this speech was delivered and was about to set when the news arrived. It was then that Jatindranath and Manindranath realised the truth that their lives had never been independent; their lives depended significantly on what happens elsewhere. Their dream of keeping their ancestral home was shattered. They have lost. Pakistan became Independent on 14th August, a day earlier. On the early hours of 15th August, Indians in Senhati of Khulna district of East Bengal hoisted and saluted the Indian Flag. The Hindu majority district of Khulna in East Bengal was all along known to become part of India while the Muslim majority district of Murshidabad was to be allocated to Pakistan at the time two-nation partition-based Independence of India. In the evening, it became known that at the last minute India asked for a reversal of the status of these two districts merely to ensure that West Bengal as aState/province of the new partioned India had a direct link between its southern and northern parts.
The implication of this for Manindranath was that the investments he had made in his ancestral homestead property in Senhati was now, for all practical purposes, completely lost: the family would never be able to keep the property in a different country. He had to bring his two sons now living with the parents of their mother in Senhati, keeping an eye on the maintenance of their own ancestral house there and studying in high schools to Calcutta. He cannot as he used to do often in the past to send his father, wife and two daughters to spend a few months in the ancestral house in Senhati and he himself travelling every weekend from Calcutta to Senhati during such months. This meant, in turn, that he couldn’t continue to live in rented houses in central Cacutta, 15 minutes walk to his office in the business district. The only alternative was to move to his 1933-built two houses in Dum Dum, near the Airport. This was the place where he stayed with his father, wife, three daughters and two sons during 1935-37 before moving back to central Calcutta for business convenience. He had now to change his strategy. He had now lost all the advantages of the ancestral property and he had to make the best use of his properties in Dum Dum and in Sunderbans to generate adequate income for the family to sustain. His daughters would soon need to be got married and his sons’ education completed. He needed to make the maximum income from the available property and accumulate savings. The circumstances completely changed the man who earlier used to take grave risks, and cared little to save despite his fluctuating income levels and move from place to place to enhance his earnings. His voyage now made a definite change of course. What brought about this change? Independence of India?
Manindranath and his family were on this course of a change. Even without the external event of Independence and associated division of the State of Bengal into two countries, this would have happened. The conditions of his family: the size, the age and sex composition have changed. This would imply a change in his strategy for the future. But what did India’s Independence mean for him?
A great financial loss. And, loss of roots. The cost to be paid for a promise of freedom to grow for Manindranath's new born son!
Over the years, the freedom that has been just won would look illusory for him and his family. On the midnight of 15th August 1947, all these implications were not known: people were celebrating freedom from British rule only – the economic freedom and future of the people now depended on the quality and competence of Indian leadership and its elite class – the new rulers of India.
The midnight speech was probably indicative of the quality and competence of the new rulers.
Did the new PM not study geography? Did not he go to London a number of times? How could he make Indians believe that the whole world was asleep at midnight in India? In terms of absolute number of people who were asleep at the time clocks in India struck 00 hours of 15 august, 1947, probably there were a significant number of Indians. Those who were awake at that time in India were those who would form the new ruling class and their close supporters. When I narrated this to a number of people including one learned Indian, a Ph.D. from an US university, they said this part of the speech should be taken as a reflection of emotion at that moment of history: the language was that of poetry. Great poets and leaders of great emotions have created history indeed. How many such persons built up economic prosperity for their nations or were comfortable with individual economic freedom? I do not really know what my professor at Harvard Business School understood of my answer to his question one-day during the 10-week Advance Management International Senior Management Program in 1994. He said in the class of about 60 executives from over 30 countries across the five continents, " Indians have proved themselves as among the best in the world in so many different fields. Yet, even after 50 years India remained in the league of poorer nations. Maybe our Indian participants may provide us a clue?" I could not resist the temptation to prove that Indians were expert in providing such clues as well and stood up. The professor encouraged me saying, "Yes, Basudeb. Tell us." I replied, " Because our first Prime Minister was educated in England, and not in the US. So we would not give up our slave mentality so easily. We continued to be without freedom after Independence."
If India was destined to suffer from the poor quality of the ruling, elite class carrying the legacy of slave mentality, Manindranath was destined to change his strategy at the time of Independence so that his children suffered least from the economic repression that would soon start in India and continue for a fairly long period. Born slaves would pass on their tradition to those who grew up into adults after Independence. Indians will be in search of liberation from the incompetence of the ruling elite. Under the euphoria of independence from foreign rulers, Indians slipped merrily into the slavery of the new class of native rulers under the garb of democracy. The period of Indian discovery of democracy as a tool for repression / oppression of the people by the people for the people, began beckoning the freedom that might be delivered decades, if not centuries, ahead.
It was around 11- 30 PM when my elder son and I were in the living room watching TV. I could not convince my wife and younger son not to go to bed and be with us. They sons had a few hours back come home from the campus hostel of Indian Institute of Technology, where they were studying in the first and second year of their masters’ programme. Tomorrow, 15th August, India’s Independence Day would be a holiday. In few minutes from now we would be hearing the recorded speech of India’s first Prime Minister which he delivered exactly at that moment of time 50 years ago. As the grand part of the yearlong celebration for 50 years of Indian Independence, we were being shown how the Members of Parliament, representing the people of India were celebrating in the Parliament House in New Delhi, our capital.
Both of us were very eager to hear the recorded replay of the famous speech that successive generations of Indians enjoyed reading again and again. We two have not read the speech. So we were eager to hear and see how the Nation re-lives that moment of history. But unfortunately we could not sustain our interest as our attention got diverted due to my child like impatient response to outside inputs. The first sentence of the speech conveyed something like this: at the stroke of midnight when the whole world was asleep, Indians are together celebrating the first moment of the hard-won Independence. Before the second sentence started, I exclaimed to my son, " Did you really hear what he uttered?" My son took a few seconds to say he did. I asked " What!" He looked at me and within seconds, we started laughing at our joke. At midnight in India 50 years ago, most Indians in the thousands of India’s villages which had no access to electricity, would have been forced to sleep while the Sun was giving day light in many parts of the world.
The Sun rose few hours after this speech was delivered and was about to set when the news arrived. It was then that Jatindranath and Manindranath realised the truth that their lives had never been independent; their lives depended significantly on what happens elsewhere. Their dream of keeping their ancestral home was shattered. They have lost. Pakistan became Independent on 14th August, a day earlier. On the early hours of 15th August, Indians in Senhati of Khulna district of East Bengal hoisted and saluted the Indian Flag. The Hindu majority district of Khulna in East Bengal was all along known to become part of India while the Muslim majority district of Murshidabad was to be allocated to Pakistan at the time two-nation partition-based Independence of India. In the evening, it became known that at the last minute India asked for a reversal of the status of these two districts merely to ensure that West Bengal as aState/province of the new partioned India had a direct link between its southern and northern parts.
The implication of this for Manindranath was that the investments he had made in his ancestral homestead property in Senhati was now, for all practical purposes, completely lost: the family would never be able to keep the property in a different country. He had to bring his two sons now living with the parents of their mother in Senhati, keeping an eye on the maintenance of their own ancestral house there and studying in high schools to Calcutta. He cannot as he used to do often in the past to send his father, wife and two daughters to spend a few months in the ancestral house in Senhati and he himself travelling every weekend from Calcutta to Senhati during such months. This meant, in turn, that he couldn’t continue to live in rented houses in central Cacutta, 15 minutes walk to his office in the business district. The only alternative was to move to his 1933-built two houses in Dum Dum, near the Airport. This was the place where he stayed with his father, wife, three daughters and two sons during 1935-37 before moving back to central Calcutta for business convenience. He had now to change his strategy. He had now lost all the advantages of the ancestral property and he had to make the best use of his properties in Dum Dum and in Sunderbans to generate adequate income for the family to sustain. His daughters would soon need to be got married and his sons’ education completed. He needed to make the maximum income from the available property and accumulate savings. The circumstances completely changed the man who earlier used to take grave risks, and cared little to save despite his fluctuating income levels and move from place to place to enhance his earnings. His voyage now made a definite change of course. What brought about this change? Independence of India?
Manindranath and his family were on this course of a change. Even without the external event of Independence and associated division of the State of Bengal into two countries, this would have happened. The conditions of his family: the size, the age and sex composition have changed. This would imply a change in his strategy for the future. But what did India’s Independence mean for him?
A great financial loss. And, loss of roots. The cost to be paid for a promise of freedom to grow for Manindranath's new born son!
Over the years, the freedom that has been just won would look illusory for him and his family. On the midnight of 15th August 1947, all these implications were not known: people were celebrating freedom from British rule only – the economic freedom and future of the people now depended on the quality and competence of Indian leadership and its elite class – the new rulers of India.
The midnight speech was probably indicative of the quality and competence of the new rulers.
Did the new PM not study geography? Did not he go to London a number of times? How could he make Indians believe that the whole world was asleep at midnight in India? In terms of absolute number of people who were asleep at the time clocks in India struck 00 hours of 15 august, 1947, probably there were a significant number of Indians. Those who were awake at that time in India were those who would form the new ruling class and their close supporters. When I narrated this to a number of people including one learned Indian, a Ph.D. from an US university, they said this part of the speech should be taken as a reflection of emotion at that moment of history: the language was that of poetry. Great poets and leaders of great emotions have created history indeed. How many such persons built up economic prosperity for their nations or were comfortable with individual economic freedom? I do not really know what my professor at Harvard Business School understood of my answer to his question one-day during the 10-week Advance Management International Senior Management Program in 1994. He said in the class of about 60 executives from over 30 countries across the five continents, " Indians have proved themselves as among the best in the world in so many different fields. Yet, even after 50 years India remained in the league of poorer nations. Maybe our Indian participants may provide us a clue?" I could not resist the temptation to prove that Indians were expert in providing such clues as well and stood up. The professor encouraged me saying, "Yes, Basudeb. Tell us." I replied, " Because our first Prime Minister was educated in England, and not in the US. So we would not give up our slave mentality so easily. We continued to be without freedom after Independence."
If India was destined to suffer from the poor quality of the ruling, elite class carrying the legacy of slave mentality, Manindranath was destined to change his strategy at the time of Independence so that his children suffered least from the economic repression that would soon start in India and continue for a fairly long period. Born slaves would pass on their tradition to those who grew up into adults after Independence. Indians will be in search of liberation from the incompetence of the ruling elite. Under the euphoria of independence from foreign rulers, Indians slipped merrily into the slavery of the new class of native rulers under the garb of democracy. The period of Indian discovery of democracy as a tool for repression / oppression of the people by the people for the people, began beckoning the freedom that might be delivered decades, if not centuries, ahead.
My Unfolding Voyage 005
Voyage Flags Off
Jatindranath has been sitting in his armchair with his eyes closed, while his two grand daughters, 17 year old Gouri and 11 year old Jhunu are standing near the window, chatting and keeping an eye on the road below if there parents were coming back home. Gouri was particularly happy that she has successfully looked after the household during the last three days that Ma (mother) was not at home.
Jatindranath has since long been keeping long hairs and beards like a Hindu Sannyasi. The hair and the beards have become grey. He is a religious man. He has seen his 77th summer pass by last month. The rains have just started this month in Calcutta. The mid-June heavy downpour today has put him in a pensive mood today. He has been thinking about the main deities worshipped by his family. He is a devotee of Shiva and Sakti as well as Vishnu Narayan, as were his ancestors. He is amazed by this tradtion of the family of worhipping Gods of two different , often opposing cults of Hindus in Bengal. Shiva represents all the good that the power of destruction brings about and Sakti represents the power to win battles over and destroy evil. Together, Shiva and Sakti represent continuation of procreation and life. Shiva is worhiped daily in the house. Sakti is worhipped for 5 days during autmn every year with lot of festivities. Goddess Durga is offered all that people consume from fruits and vegetables, both raw and cooked to sweets, fish and animal flesh. Live lamb and buffaloe are sacrificed at the alter of Goddess Durga. At the same time, Vishnu Narayan who represents humility, love, sharing and amity, is worshiped daily with minor sweet offerings. The two cults emphasise two different kinds of human behaviour and mentality. And, of these types of it is Vishnu Narayan who seems to have impacted most members of successive generations of his family.
Lord Krishna, the human incarnation of Vishnu is the most popular deity in the household and has own the hearts of the young and the old, the men and the women alike. It is a standard practice to worship Krishna by chanting His 100 different names given to Him by his parents, friends, relatives and followers. All like to hear again and again the story of how he was born in a prison on a rainy day and cleverly smuggled out of the prison by his relatives to a safe place under the cover of heavy rains. An oppressive King had planned to kill the incarnation of God at birth by fear of the prediction of royal astrologers that certain identified relatives of the King will give birth to a male child who would grow into a powerful adult and kill the king. So, identified couple were imprisoned and all the seven boys the mother had given birth to in the prison before Krishna were killed at birth by Kingʽs men. But Krishna was saved.
As God in human form, Krishna by his various activities brought a transformation in the society and peopleʼs suffering due the spread of jealousy, cruelty, terror, injustice and oppression. Lord had said, whenever people were in severe trouble he would take human birth to bring relief to the human beings. Jatindranath wonders if Gandhi is the latest incarnation of God. He spreads the message of love and sacrifice and yet been able to rally around him most of the leaders of Indiaʼs Independence movement. Gandhi has become popular. Will he able to drive out the British from India and help establish a new era of peace, harmony and economic progress in the country.
His thoughts are disturbed as Jhunu ccmes running near him and asks, " Dadu ( grand father), where have Chanchal and Sajal gone?" Jatindranath was a bit perplexed by this sudden inquiry about her two younger brothers who died after brief illnesses a few years back. He replied, "They are in the sky ? "
" But why have they gone there ?"
"Because they had completed their work here and had to take a different journey elsewhere, far away from us."
It is not clear whether Jhunu understood anything. She asked again, " Will they return again to us?" "Unlikely my child." said Dadu.
"So they wonʼt be here. They will miss the fun we will have. Dada (senior elder brother) and Mejda (next elder brother) will come here soon, Baba told me. They will enjoy with us". Jhunu makes this observation and goes away.
Jatindranath closes his eyes and falls back into his thoughts. The past 77 years since he was born has been a period of deep suffering. As the British consolidated their rule in India the intensity of their conflict with freedom fighters have increased and become progressively ugly. In the past half a century he has not seen any sustained period of peace and progress. There have been repeated incidents of communal violence. Two world wars have been fought with its disastorous consequences on people in many parts of the world including India. There have been great famines in the country. On a personal level, he has seen so many of his loved ones pass away. He lost his father, mother, two wives, one son in-law and as many as four grand children. The joint family in which he was born has lost economic security and cohesiveness in the last 35 years. Although his son has been able to ensure that they did not lose their homestead property, most productive agricultural lands the family once owned and derived huge income from were lost by the time his son Manindranath or Manik was born. A few generation of his forefathers had shown considerable negligence of their farms, complete reluctance to continue the family occupation of practicing medicine and a tendency to spend without limit on distributing charity, on religious ceremonies as also on marriages and other social ceremonies. All this led to borrowings against property and redeem of borrowings through liquidation of property. His son has been in the past 25 years struggled hard to earn income and build up assets. But he has also gone through fluctuating fortunes and has been forced to maintain two establishments one at Calcutta and one at Senhati. The children had not stayed consistently at one place with their parents at Calcutta. This has affected his life as well the grandchildren have given him company and pleasure in his otherwise lonely life since his wives died nearly 4 decades back. He may not live for long but he wished his son, daughter in law and their children live together in single location. Manik deserves stability. Will this happen soon?
" Yes, Dadu. They have come " whispers Jhunu into his ears. Jatindranath opens his eyes to see them entering the room. The rain has drenched Manindranath, the umbrella has partly protected his wife Lilabati but the three-day old boy in her lap is untouched by water. Gouri hands over a towel to her father and helps her mother with another one. As Manindranath sits down on a chair rubbing his head and shoulders with his towel, Lilabati with her Ghomta on the head sits down on the floor besides her father-in law seated in armchair. Jatindranath looks at the face of the new addition to the family for 30 seconds, then smiles and exclaims, " Manik, I was afraid that our child may get exchanged with another in the crowd of new born in the hospital. But Bouma (daughter in-law) has taken care to bring our bright child home. Bouma, the arrival of this child should mark a change in our lives. This child will grow to make you and us proud." Normally, Jatindranath does not talk so much before the presence of his daughter in-law. But today he has become different. All of a sudden he has remembered that the two boys who preceded this new baby died in less than few years of their birth. This must have been too harsh on the mother. He feels the need to help remove any fears about the future of the new child from the minds of parents. He continued to look at the child with deep concentration and then said, " Bouma, this boy has reached the safety of home under the cover of rains as did Basudeb, Godʼs human incarnation. Like Basudeb, this child is also the eighth child of the parents. So let this boy be known as Basudeb. God bless you all." He then instructs Gouri to help mother to the bedroom.
He now starts feeling better having done his duty at the voyagerʼs lunching phase. He tries to visualise the varied mission that the new voyager he gave a name today will achieve during its long journey along with the other voyagers in the family. The four elder brothers and sisters will give their best to impart the strength of freedom and independence Basudeb would require.
Jatindranath has been sitting in his armchair with his eyes closed, while his two grand daughters, 17 year old Gouri and 11 year old Jhunu are standing near the window, chatting and keeping an eye on the road below if there parents were coming back home. Gouri was particularly happy that she has successfully looked after the household during the last three days that Ma (mother) was not at home.
Jatindranath has since long been keeping long hairs and beards like a Hindu Sannyasi. The hair and the beards have become grey. He is a religious man. He has seen his 77th summer pass by last month. The rains have just started this month in Calcutta. The mid-June heavy downpour today has put him in a pensive mood today. He has been thinking about the main deities worshipped by his family. He is a devotee of Shiva and Sakti as well as Vishnu Narayan, as were his ancestors. He is amazed by this tradtion of the family of worhipping Gods of two different , often opposing cults of Hindus in Bengal. Shiva represents all the good that the power of destruction brings about and Sakti represents the power to win battles over and destroy evil. Together, Shiva and Sakti represent continuation of procreation and life. Shiva is worhiped daily in the house. Sakti is worhipped for 5 days during autmn every year with lot of festivities. Goddess Durga is offered all that people consume from fruits and vegetables, both raw and cooked to sweets, fish and animal flesh. Live lamb and buffaloe are sacrificed at the alter of Goddess Durga. At the same time, Vishnu Narayan who represents humility, love, sharing and amity, is worshiped daily with minor sweet offerings. The two cults emphasise two different kinds of human behaviour and mentality. And, of these types of it is Vishnu Narayan who seems to have impacted most members of successive generations of his family.
Lord Krishna, the human incarnation of Vishnu is the most popular deity in the household and has own the hearts of the young and the old, the men and the women alike. It is a standard practice to worship Krishna by chanting His 100 different names given to Him by his parents, friends, relatives and followers. All like to hear again and again the story of how he was born in a prison on a rainy day and cleverly smuggled out of the prison by his relatives to a safe place under the cover of heavy rains. An oppressive King had planned to kill the incarnation of God at birth by fear of the prediction of royal astrologers that certain identified relatives of the King will give birth to a male child who would grow into a powerful adult and kill the king. So, identified couple were imprisoned and all the seven boys the mother had given birth to in the prison before Krishna were killed at birth by Kingʽs men. But Krishna was saved.
As God in human form, Krishna by his various activities brought a transformation in the society and peopleʼs suffering due the spread of jealousy, cruelty, terror, injustice and oppression. Lord had said, whenever people were in severe trouble he would take human birth to bring relief to the human beings. Jatindranath wonders if Gandhi is the latest incarnation of God. He spreads the message of love and sacrifice and yet been able to rally around him most of the leaders of Indiaʼs Independence movement. Gandhi has become popular. Will he able to drive out the British from India and help establish a new era of peace, harmony and economic progress in the country.
His thoughts are disturbed as Jhunu ccmes running near him and asks, " Dadu ( grand father), where have Chanchal and Sajal gone?" Jatindranath was a bit perplexed by this sudden inquiry about her two younger brothers who died after brief illnesses a few years back. He replied, "They are in the sky ? "
" But why have they gone there ?"
"Because they had completed their work here and had to take a different journey elsewhere, far away from us."
It is not clear whether Jhunu understood anything. She asked again, " Will they return again to us?" "Unlikely my child." said Dadu.
"So they wonʼt be here. They will miss the fun we will have. Dada (senior elder brother) and Mejda (next elder brother) will come here soon, Baba told me. They will enjoy with us". Jhunu makes this observation and goes away.
Jatindranath closes his eyes and falls back into his thoughts. The past 77 years since he was born has been a period of deep suffering. As the British consolidated their rule in India the intensity of their conflict with freedom fighters have increased and become progressively ugly. In the past half a century he has not seen any sustained period of peace and progress. There have been repeated incidents of communal violence. Two world wars have been fought with its disastorous consequences on people in many parts of the world including India. There have been great famines in the country. On a personal level, he has seen so many of his loved ones pass away. He lost his father, mother, two wives, one son in-law and as many as four grand children. The joint family in which he was born has lost economic security and cohesiveness in the last 35 years. Although his son has been able to ensure that they did not lose their homestead property, most productive agricultural lands the family once owned and derived huge income from were lost by the time his son Manindranath or Manik was born. A few generation of his forefathers had shown considerable negligence of their farms, complete reluctance to continue the family occupation of practicing medicine and a tendency to spend without limit on distributing charity, on religious ceremonies as also on marriages and other social ceremonies. All this led to borrowings against property and redeem of borrowings through liquidation of property. His son has been in the past 25 years struggled hard to earn income and build up assets. But he has also gone through fluctuating fortunes and has been forced to maintain two establishments one at Calcutta and one at Senhati. The children had not stayed consistently at one place with their parents at Calcutta. This has affected his life as well the grandchildren have given him company and pleasure in his otherwise lonely life since his wives died nearly 4 decades back. He may not live for long but he wished his son, daughter in law and their children live together in single location. Manik deserves stability. Will this happen soon?
" Yes, Dadu. They have come " whispers Jhunu into his ears. Jatindranath opens his eyes to see them entering the room. The rain has drenched Manindranath, the umbrella has partly protected his wife Lilabati but the three-day old boy in her lap is untouched by water. Gouri hands over a towel to her father and helps her mother with another one. As Manindranath sits down on a chair rubbing his head and shoulders with his towel, Lilabati with her Ghomta on the head sits down on the floor besides her father-in law seated in armchair. Jatindranath looks at the face of the new addition to the family for 30 seconds, then smiles and exclaims, " Manik, I was afraid that our child may get exchanged with another in the crowd of new born in the hospital. But Bouma (daughter in-law) has taken care to bring our bright child home. Bouma, the arrival of this child should mark a change in our lives. This child will grow to make you and us proud." Normally, Jatindranath does not talk so much before the presence of his daughter in-law. But today he has become different. All of a sudden he has remembered that the two boys who preceded this new baby died in less than few years of their birth. This must have been too harsh on the mother. He feels the need to help remove any fears about the future of the new child from the minds of parents. He continued to look at the child with deep concentration and then said, " Bouma, this boy has reached the safety of home under the cover of rains as did Basudeb, Godʼs human incarnation. Like Basudeb, this child is also the eighth child of the parents. So let this boy be known as Basudeb. God bless you all." He then instructs Gouri to help mother to the bedroom.
He now starts feeling better having done his duty at the voyagerʼs lunching phase. He tries to visualise the varied mission that the new voyager he gave a name today will achieve during its long journey along with the other voyagers in the family. The four elder brothers and sisters will give their best to impart the strength of freedom and independence Basudeb would require.
Learning off the Siblings: My Unfolding Voyage 004
The Seniority Paradox
In our country, seniority commanded respect and some privileges. Although seniors are not necessarily better, they have managed to continue with their special powers. But can we become equally senior or senior to seniors? Something of this sort must be troubling him. He asked, "Dad, why do I have to call elder brother as Dada while he calls me by name?" I replied that it was the custom here in our country to show respect to the elder and not call him by his name. Instead the word Dada is used. I reminded him that I also called my elder brother as Dada. He was not satisfied and asked why was Dada elder to him. I told him that his Dada was born before him and therefore elder or senior in age to him. He was still not satisfied asked why were Dada born earlier and not he. This is one of the difficult questions to answer to one who does not know the answer. I told him if he had come earlier he would not have remained him but become Dada and the one born after him would ask the same question. I admitted that I had no idea about how the decision on the timing of birth of different persons was taken. At least I was not responsible for the decision about his coming after his elder brother. We did not either of them before they were born. We gave then names for identification after they were born. These answers were a bit complicated for a three-year old child to appreciate. But he kept quiet.
I did not recall having thought of the same question. Maybe my younger brother, who was two years and three months younger to me, had confronted this. He called me by name until I got married. I do not know why he changed his mind. But surely I enjoyed having two elder brothers and two elder sisters. I could have one more elder sister and two more elder brothers but they had gone before I was born. I liked to have elder brothers and sister because I got all the benefits and avoided great responsibility and worries for younger ones in the family. Of course, my brother and sisters were between 13 to 18 years older than I was. The sisters acted like deputy and assistant mothers taking care about my clothes, cleanliness and behaviour. They eldest sister never scolded me, brought me books and sweets. Both of them took me out when they visited their friends or went to see a movie. They taught us many things. They elder brother also loved me and taught me many a thing when I was a small child. They and their friends created an atmosphere of affection, tolerance, gifts, interesting discussions, social/cultural activities and other activities in the house. In fact, this period of real good fun was short-lived as the eldest sister (Didi) got married when I was four, the elder brother went to Jamshedpur (an overnight journey those days by train) to work in Telco, A Tata company, when I was five and the second brother went to another place a couple of years later. By the time I was eleven the second sister got married. We were then four at home: father, Ma, my younger brother and I. But this elder lot carried with them the concern for us. We waited for their return home and visit to Calcutta.
They were an experienced lot for me to watch and learn, get questions answered, obtain gifts, get fun – all of these and more for a small price to pay in the form occasionally getting rebuked or slapped, restriction on free movement outside home and doing small errands.
This is the experience my sons were to miss. My sons rendezvous’ with me were to be distinctly different. But would they still be influenced by this period of my rendezvous with my brother and sisters long before my sons were born. The forces that affected me strongly could affect my sons even in their weak forms. When he would grow up would my younger son feel happy that he was not the senior of the two brothers? How would the absence of sisters affect my sons? Most importantly, who decided that my sons would miss the experience I had in my childhood?
In our country, seniority commanded respect and some privileges. Although seniors are not necessarily better, they have managed to continue with their special powers. But can we become equally senior or senior to seniors? Something of this sort must be troubling him. He asked, "Dad, why do I have to call elder brother as Dada while he calls me by name?" I replied that it was the custom here in our country to show respect to the elder and not call him by his name. Instead the word Dada is used. I reminded him that I also called my elder brother as Dada. He was not satisfied and asked why was Dada elder to him. I told him that his Dada was born before him and therefore elder or senior in age to him. He was still not satisfied asked why were Dada born earlier and not he. This is one of the difficult questions to answer to one who does not know the answer. I told him if he had come earlier he would not have remained him but become Dada and the one born after him would ask the same question. I admitted that I had no idea about how the decision on the timing of birth of different persons was taken. At least I was not responsible for the decision about his coming after his elder brother. We did not either of them before they were born. We gave then names for identification after they were born. These answers were a bit complicated for a three-year old child to appreciate. But he kept quiet.
I did not recall having thought of the same question. Maybe my younger brother, who was two years and three months younger to me, had confronted this. He called me by name until I got married. I do not know why he changed his mind. But surely I enjoyed having two elder brothers and two elder sisters. I could have one more elder sister and two more elder brothers but they had gone before I was born. I liked to have elder brothers and sister because I got all the benefits and avoided great responsibility and worries for younger ones in the family. Of course, my brother and sisters were between 13 to 18 years older than I was. The sisters acted like deputy and assistant mothers taking care about my clothes, cleanliness and behaviour. They eldest sister never scolded me, brought me books and sweets. Both of them took me out when they visited their friends or went to see a movie. They taught us many things. They elder brother also loved me and taught me many a thing when I was a small child. They and their friends created an atmosphere of affection, tolerance, gifts, interesting discussions, social/cultural activities and other activities in the house. In fact, this period of real good fun was short-lived as the eldest sister (Didi) got married when I was four, the elder brother went to Jamshedpur (an overnight journey those days by train) to work in Telco, A Tata company, when I was five and the second brother went to another place a couple of years later. By the time I was eleven the second sister got married. We were then four at home: father, Ma, my younger brother and I. But this elder lot carried with them the concern for us. We waited for their return home and visit to Calcutta.
They were an experienced lot for me to watch and learn, get questions answered, obtain gifts, get fun – all of these and more for a small price to pay in the form occasionally getting rebuked or slapped, restriction on free movement outside home and doing small errands.
This is the experience my sons were to miss. My sons rendezvous’ with me were to be distinctly different. But would they still be influenced by this period of my rendezvous with my brother and sisters long before my sons were born. The forces that affected me strongly could affect my sons even in their weak forms. When he would grow up would my younger son feel happy that he was not the senior of the two brothers? How would the absence of sisters affect my sons? Most importantly, who decided that my sons would miss the experience I had in my childhood?
Mom's Son: My Unfloding Voyage 003
Mama’s Boy
Only after a few days India would celebrate the 42nd anniversary of Independence. His flight to New York via London was around one in the morning and he should reach Bombay Airport by 10 in the night. Airport was about an hour’s drive from home. He was looking forward to this flight to his Independence from home for quite sometime. He worked hard to get his M Sc. degree in the first class from the Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay and a decent score in Graduate Records Examination (GRE) to obtain admission for higher studies in an US University. He received full financial aid for tuition and a teaching assistant-ship to earn about $ 800 or so a month. He was cheerful all the time since he received the letter from the State University of New York at Buffalo (SUNY B) but was in a pensive mood since the morning of the day of his departure. In the evening, one of his close friends came to visit him. They were chatting over two hours now with some interventions by his Dad and Mom for few minutes. All arrangements have been made; his luggage was locked and ready.
One could overhear what he said to his friend, as his friend was about to leave. " It would have been nice if my MOM also went to Buffalo and stayed with me for the initial few days." I was shocked. Not because he has started feeling lonely as the time to leave home for a long voyage to a distant and strange land approached. He now appeared to depend more on his Mom than on his Dad. This is the assessment of a 23-year lad who at the age of three refused to accept that he was born out of Mother’s womb and insisted that he came out of his father’s body!
I wondered many a time about this transformation of my elder son. Had I not been as close to him and as dependable as my Love was? Did I not love him as much as she did? In fact, he enjoyed more freedom of choice with me than with his Mom. It cannot be that this boy loved his Mom more than I loved my Ma. My Ma was the single greatest. Source of all my inspiration, imagination, strength and comfort till My Love filled my existence. And, my Ma was a more experienced mother. She had given birth to nine children and managed a larger household than my Love. She studied up to primary school and at home while my Love a university graduate. But Ma from birth lived in large households. She was the second among her three sisters and had a much elder stepbrother who was well educated and served as a judge. After marriage, she lived in a larger joint family. She did not have a mother in-law to live with but many aunts-in law requiring her to provide assistance in the kitchen and other household work till she started managing her own independent household in Calcutta. She took lessons in tailoring from a European lady. She knew English, enjoyed music, conversations and debates. She loved to sacrifice for others who needed help: she did this without any expectation of return. She worked physically hard to keep the house clean and tidy. She worshiped God every day and managed special religious ceremonies every year. She participated in all fun at home. She always enjoyed her mistakes and could laughed at them. She seldom became angry and quarreled with anyone ( except at times with Dad). She never tolerated her kids inviting complaints about their behaviour from neighbours and relatives. She was very interested in palmistry, astrology and planchet as mechanisms to know the future. She read the newspapers English or Bengali every afternoon with special interest on all headlines and the section on crime and courts. She was an extra-ordinarily pleasant host to all. To me, she is one of the two best cook known to me (the other one is my Love). She never meted out differential treatment to her relatives, friends and guests. All received the same love and help from him. Although she loved her children equally as any other mother would do, Ma followed the rule of allocation and attention according to needs rather the modern rule of equal shares. She seldom get depressed by unfortunate happenings and was always an optimist.
Despite all her qualities and deep love, I never thought of her as more dependable than my father who had the best experience of struggling against the odds in the outside world. But my elder son felt differently. It might be that he thought that Dad could not have taken leave from office for such a long period with justification and Mom should not have problem. And, it was my Love who handled most of the transactions with the four schools and three colleges my sons attended before they left for the US. And, she always kept her eyes of surveillance focused on the protection of her two sons. Unlike her, my mother depended on her husband, the elder sons and daughters and neighbours to keep an eye on the safety and protection of her younger sons. These could have made the difference. At the age of 23, I was reluctant to go for higher studies to US, a strange and cold country far away from home. I did not want to leave the comfort of home and familiar place. I refused to accept my first job offer as the workplace was outside my city of Calcutta and my State West Bengal. Contrast this with my origin: circumstances forced my father to go to strange places far away from home when he was in his teens. And, my son having taken the decision to go to a distant place felt nervous at the last stage. Three different responses to leaving home for a distant land were consistent with the three different voyages the grandfather, the father and the son were to undertake. The great grand father who had decided not to leave the village ancestral home to find gainful occupation, ultimately landed in Kolkata (Calcutta) and stayed with his son till he breathed his last. Both my grandfather and my father breathed their last in Dum Dum – a few hundred miles away from their birth place now in a different sovereign country (Bangladesh). I wonder whether these voyages were in some way related? Is there a pattern in all these?
But on that evening when my elder son was a few hours away on his flight to USA, I felt that my son was feeling nervous. I had to help him confront this with logic than emotion.
I immediately went to the living room and asked him” Son, what did you say a minute back?" He was not aware that I overheard. He replied " What, nothing special". I told him that I had overheard and asked how would it help if Mom went with him for few days. He replied that her presence in the first few days in US would help him avoid the sadness that was pervading his mind as he was getting ready to go the airport. He had tears in his eyes. I told him what he said was true. But it was equally true that he would be suffering the same feeling of sadness when Mom would return back after leaving him there. And, that it was too late now to arrange for mother accompanying him. He should rather take comfort from the fact that in the same flight my friend’s son was travelling in the same flight for higher studies at the same university. They will get to know each other at the time of checking in for the flight. This boy was elder to him in age, had work experience and would helpful company for him at least in the initial days. My son said, " Don’t worry, Dad. I was just feeling like that. I will manage."
I knew that my son is winning his freedom from the controls of his Mom and family. Our voyages might not run parallel or in close proximity from now. Mom’s boy was set to traverse a different segment of his orbit away from the constant influence of his Mom.
Only after a few days India would celebrate the 42nd anniversary of Independence. His flight to New York via London was around one in the morning and he should reach Bombay Airport by 10 in the night. Airport was about an hour’s drive from home. He was looking forward to this flight to his Independence from home for quite sometime. He worked hard to get his M Sc. degree in the first class from the Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay and a decent score in Graduate Records Examination (GRE) to obtain admission for higher studies in an US University. He received full financial aid for tuition and a teaching assistant-ship to earn about $ 800 or so a month. He was cheerful all the time since he received the letter from the State University of New York at Buffalo (SUNY B) but was in a pensive mood since the morning of the day of his departure. In the evening, one of his close friends came to visit him. They were chatting over two hours now with some interventions by his Dad and Mom for few minutes. All arrangements have been made; his luggage was locked and ready.
One could overhear what he said to his friend, as his friend was about to leave. " It would have been nice if my MOM also went to Buffalo and stayed with me for the initial few days." I was shocked. Not because he has started feeling lonely as the time to leave home for a long voyage to a distant and strange land approached. He now appeared to depend more on his Mom than on his Dad. This is the assessment of a 23-year lad who at the age of three refused to accept that he was born out of Mother’s womb and insisted that he came out of his father’s body!
I wondered many a time about this transformation of my elder son. Had I not been as close to him and as dependable as my Love was? Did I not love him as much as she did? In fact, he enjoyed more freedom of choice with me than with his Mom. It cannot be that this boy loved his Mom more than I loved my Ma. My Ma was the single greatest. Source of all my inspiration, imagination, strength and comfort till My Love filled my existence. And, my Ma was a more experienced mother. She had given birth to nine children and managed a larger household than my Love. She studied up to primary school and at home while my Love a university graduate. But Ma from birth lived in large households. She was the second among her three sisters and had a much elder stepbrother who was well educated and served as a judge. After marriage, she lived in a larger joint family. She did not have a mother in-law to live with but many aunts-in law requiring her to provide assistance in the kitchen and other household work till she started managing her own independent household in Calcutta. She took lessons in tailoring from a European lady. She knew English, enjoyed music, conversations and debates. She loved to sacrifice for others who needed help: she did this without any expectation of return. She worked physically hard to keep the house clean and tidy. She worshiped God every day and managed special religious ceremonies every year. She participated in all fun at home. She always enjoyed her mistakes and could laughed at them. She seldom became angry and quarreled with anyone ( except at times with Dad). She never tolerated her kids inviting complaints about their behaviour from neighbours and relatives. She was very interested in palmistry, astrology and planchet as mechanisms to know the future. She read the newspapers English or Bengali every afternoon with special interest on all headlines and the section on crime and courts. She was an extra-ordinarily pleasant host to all. To me, she is one of the two best cook known to me (the other one is my Love). She never meted out differential treatment to her relatives, friends and guests. All received the same love and help from him. Although she loved her children equally as any other mother would do, Ma followed the rule of allocation and attention according to needs rather the modern rule of equal shares. She seldom get depressed by unfortunate happenings and was always an optimist.
Despite all her qualities and deep love, I never thought of her as more dependable than my father who had the best experience of struggling against the odds in the outside world. But my elder son felt differently. It might be that he thought that Dad could not have taken leave from office for such a long period with justification and Mom should not have problem. And, it was my Love who handled most of the transactions with the four schools and three colleges my sons attended before they left for the US. And, she always kept her eyes of surveillance focused on the protection of her two sons. Unlike her, my mother depended on her husband, the elder sons and daughters and neighbours to keep an eye on the safety and protection of her younger sons. These could have made the difference. At the age of 23, I was reluctant to go for higher studies to US, a strange and cold country far away from home. I did not want to leave the comfort of home and familiar place. I refused to accept my first job offer as the workplace was outside my city of Calcutta and my State West Bengal. Contrast this with my origin: circumstances forced my father to go to strange places far away from home when he was in his teens. And, my son having taken the decision to go to a distant place felt nervous at the last stage. Three different responses to leaving home for a distant land were consistent with the three different voyages the grandfather, the father and the son were to undertake. The great grand father who had decided not to leave the village ancestral home to find gainful occupation, ultimately landed in Kolkata (Calcutta) and stayed with his son till he breathed his last. Both my grandfather and my father breathed their last in Dum Dum – a few hundred miles away from their birth place now in a different sovereign country (Bangladesh). I wonder whether these voyages were in some way related? Is there a pattern in all these?
But on that evening when my elder son was a few hours away on his flight to USA, I felt that my son was feeling nervous. I had to help him confront this with logic than emotion.
I immediately went to the living room and asked him” Son, what did you say a minute back?" He was not aware that I overheard. He replied " What, nothing special". I told him that I had overheard and asked how would it help if Mom went with him for few days. He replied that her presence in the first few days in US would help him avoid the sadness that was pervading his mind as he was getting ready to go the airport. He had tears in his eyes. I told him what he said was true. But it was equally true that he would be suffering the same feeling of sadness when Mom would return back after leaving him there. And, that it was too late now to arrange for mother accompanying him. He should rather take comfort from the fact that in the same flight my friend’s son was travelling in the same flight for higher studies at the same university. They will get to know each other at the time of checking in for the flight. This boy was elder to him in age, had work experience and would helpful company for him at least in the initial days. My son said, " Don’t worry, Dad. I was just feeling like that. I will manage."
I knew that my son is winning his freedom from the controls of his Mom and family. Our voyages might not run parallel or in close proximity from now. Mom’s boy was set to traverse a different segment of his orbit away from the constant influence of his Mom.
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