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Homeland

 


Aaje ke yeh desh hai tera,

Isko gale se laga re.

Yehi hai pyar tera jo

Yehi hai rishte saare.


"Bondita, we have decided. The boys will do all the preparations." Batuk nodded intelligently. "The girls can come for the evening performance."

"But what if I say, the girls can help decorate better, and even cook the Bhog?" Bondita smiled.

"But only people who study can participate in the puja. Understand?" Batuk shrugged. Bondita fell silent. But her eyes were wandering. She was looking for a perfect comeback.

"So what? The girls can ask for her blessings too." Both of them turned at the voice behind them. "She blesses everyone eager to learn."

"Dev Da, I am sure they can. But what will they do with knowledge? Run a house?" Batuk gave out a taunting laugh. Bondita narrowed her eyes at him.

"What's wrong with that?" Debaditya placed his stack of books down on the table. "Do you know how much calculation is needed to run a home?" He raised his eyebrows. Batuk fell silent.

"We are helping." Bondita jumped in. "Right Jamai babu?"

Debaditya smiled. "Only if Zamindar Babu gives permission." Bondita nodded with a smile. 

"That's easy. He never refuses to Bondita." Debaditya smiled at her words.

"Let's study now. Shall we?" Debaditya asked as Bondita nodded. She then rushed to the study room to get her books. 


"Today we will learn about…"

"Jamai Babu?" Bondita interrupted twisting the end of her saree in between her fingers. "I have a question."

"You always do." He nodded. "Ask."

"The goddess of knowledge and learning is Maa Saraswati." Bondita now tapped the end of her pencil on her cheek. "Then why are women not allowed to study?" Debaditya smiled, placing his book down and sitting across the table from her.

"Maybe because they fear, women will outdo men." His answer didn't satisfy her. She frowned a little and went back to counting her numbers. This wasn't new. None of the answers ever satisfied her. 

"But why do you want to participate in the Saraswati Puja with the girls?" He asked.

"Because I want the villagers to see we are no different." Bondita shrugged.

"Will they agree?" Debaditya asked.

"Of course, they will. They have to if Zamindar Babu wants it, Choto Malkin wants it." She made a face of authority. "Moreover they are religious people. They won't anger a goddess." 

Debaditya admired her intelligence. She was right. If it was any random participation the villagers would never send the girls. But it was a puja. They couldn't deny it.


"So have you told Koeli to clean the locked room?" Trilochan asked without looking up from his book of accounts. 

"The locked room?" Bondita asked. "Barrister Babu's?" She looked surprised. 

"He is coming home." Binoy added, "For some days."

"I will let Koeli Didi know." Bondita agreed. But she didn't move.


"I have a deal, Zamindar Babu." Trilochan and Binoy looked up from their respective work as Bondita placed their cups of tea in expensive chinaware carefully down on the table. Binoy looked amused while Trilochan looked a bit taken aback.

"Scared?" Bondita smirked.

"Now what are you up to?" Binoy asked.

"I am inviting the villagers to the Saraswati Puja and the festivities thereafter. The girls are going to participate. I am sure if they see how intelligent they are, they will eventually agree to the school." Trilochan sighed at her hopeful words. "Then you will set it up. Okay?" She nodded, eyes sparkling. 


Trilochan nodded back. She almost jumped as she ran out, her nupur making echoes across the hallway.

"Dada?" Binoy asked worriedly, "What is this about?"

"I am scared she will get hurt." Trilochan sighed. 

"At least let her be happy till the Pujas. I saw her prepare the girls a while back. They had gathered with Batuk and the boys at the lawn and were preparing some songs."

Trilochan smiled.

"And oh, Dada. We should invite the Laat Saheb for the evening festivities." Binoy sipped the tea. Trilochan looked up at him.

"It's a religious gathering." He sounded firm.

"I know but the new Laat Saheb is very stern. He has his eyes everywhere. If he hears the Tulsipur Zamindars hosted something for the entire village and left him out, it can affect our business. I will invite him. He can come to see the children do some songs and poetry." Binoy shrugged. Trilochan clenched his jaws. The Jalsaghar parties, the drinking and women, the English food, now this. Binoy was taking quite a liking to the British ways. Something Trilochan feared has perhaps even gripped Aniruddha.


"Koeli Didi?" Bondita was sitting on the floor of the opened mysterious room and dusting a shining award. "What is this?"

"They get these for excelling in school." Koeli smiled. "He is very intelligent."

"Why is he coming back?" Bondita asked.

"I don't know Choto Malkin." Koeli shook her head. "Should I clean the frames too?" 

"I will do that. You rub the floor." Bondita got up and placed the award back on the shelf. She tied a piece of cloth around her nose and mouth and started dusting the pictures. There was one young Binoy, with his wife, and a small child on her lap. She scrutinized it.

"She was beautiful." She murmured.

"Yes." Koeli agreed. "And she was wonderful in poetry. They had Jalsa every Sunday with eminent poets." Bondita touched the picture and moved on to the next. Two little boys of the same age. 

"Who are these?" Koeli looked up at her question. "That's Debaditya Babu and Aniruddha Babu. They were friends."

" I see." She dusted around as Koeli left the room to bring some freshly washed curtains and bedsheets. 


Bondita removed the cloth from her mouth. Her eyes fell on a picture above the door. It looked rather recent. The man in it was barely in his mid-twenties, had a smile on his face, and stood beside a table of awards and medals, his hands folded to his chest and legs crossed. Bondita folded her arms to her chest and crossed her legs. She saw her own reflection in the mirror and giggled. 

"You also look intelligent in this pose Bondita!" She smiled. "Like a Barrister babu."


Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury looked around the busy Calcutta Port for a familiar face. He was tall, his eyes deep brown, and sparkled of intelligence, his attire well groomed, his hair set, and a genuine smile of happiness lingered on his lips. His eyes stopped at Debaditya waving at him. He dropped his luggage down and ran to hug his old friend. Memories came flooding back. His childhood was spent playing with Debaditya. Reading stories with him. Talking of everything under the sun. They eventually grew apart when Dev married Sampoorna and got busy with his job while Aniruddha went abroad. The hug gave a sense of belonging back to Aniruddha. He had been missing it. Debaditya stiffened. He was now older, wiser and more aware of his position than before. His father worked for them. He worked for them. Everyone in Tulsipur obeyed the Roy Chowdhurys. Could they be friends?


"How are you?" Aniruddha smiled. "I am well." Debaditya was short with his answer and picked up the luggage. 

"Aree aree let me!" Aniruddha stopped him.

"No Aniruddha Babu." Debaditya nodded, making him narrow his eyes. "I am at a job here." Aniruddha sighed. He wanted to come back home. But coming back home also meant going back a few years. To the caste-ridden society, to the inequality and blind faith, and mostly to the disturbing traditions that often haunted him. 


He didn't tell anyone the truth yet but being at Kingston all he could think of was how to make his country better. He had engaged in a debate with the British boys once. They kept reminding him how backwards his country is. It haunted him. He would never work for them. Be their slave. He was not going back. 


He looked around at the serenity while the car zoomed through the roads towards Tulsipur. The paddy fields, the green crops, the flower beds on either side, once in a while they pass by a village, cows in the fields, hens running across the road, ducks quacking, a flock of cranes, or a cuckoo calling somewhere. Sometimes he could spot a familiar neem, banyan or mango tree. Old men sitting beneath them with their hookahs and hand fans, children playing with marbles, women in colourful sarees, faces hidden, walking home with earthen pots. Somewhere on the horizon as the sun was about to set, he could see the dark clouds. 


"It looks like a Kalbaisakhi is coming," Debaditya said, stopping the car. "Too early for one, I must say. We should get the hood up."

Aniruddha got down to help him. He spotted a few bullock carts ride by, with a team of Bahuroopis in them. Somewhere a bulbul sang. He smelled the earth. Breathed in. Those silly British lads. They had no idea of the potential and life these lands promised. They hadn't seen his country with love.


Soon heavy winds started to blow and the speed of the car had to decrease because of visibility. 

"How far are we?" Aniruddha asked. 

"Almost there. See that tree. That marks the beginning of Tulsipur." Debaditya pointed at a large banyan tree. 

"There are no sign boards?" Aniruddha's questions were met with a smile. 

"Sign boards are for cities Aniruddha Babu." Dev shrugged. It soon started to pour heavily. The wind speed decreased and the rain grew heavier. Aniruddha pulled down the glass pane of the motor car and smelled the soil. The first droplets of summer rain on the soil smelled nostalgic. 


Very soon the lit-up mansion was visible on the horizon. The guard ran out of his guard room with a broken umbrella and opened the gates. He bowed as the car zoomed into the portico. Aniruddha got down as Debaditya got busy unloading his luggage and handing them over to Bihari who rushed out. He was about to go up the steps when he spotted the family and smiled. He ran to hug his uncle, father and brothers.

"Aniruddha." Trilochan had tears in his eyes as he hugged his favourite nephew. It was no secret to the family that he always had a softer spot for the firstborn. Aniruddha touched his feet. And then his father's. 

"How long are you going to stay before you go back?" His smile disappeared at his father's words.

"Oho. Let him come in." Trilochan scolded. "My son is home."


Words:
Jamai Babu: Brother-in-law, sister's husband, daughter's husband
Kalbaisakhi: Nor Western storms, a common phenomenon in summer evenings in Bengal.

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