Skip to main content

Protidaan: Chapter Eight

The Naxalite movement had diverted from its initial phase into utter chaos in a matter of two years. Initially, the demands and ideologies of the youth in the movement weren’t entirely wrong. Although I hail from the very class of people they hated, I quite understood their complaints. I wasn’t like Dada, who blindly hated them back. But then, when the movement turned to agitations on the streets of Calcutta and bloodshed in the plateaus of Chotanagpur, I couldn’t help but be intimidated by such unnecessary violence. The government deployed an army in and around the affected areas, and once or twice, the people of Punya had witnessed from their courtyards and houses, peeping eagerly as the army trucks ran through the village using it as a shortcut to some areas. 

I had instructed everyone to be home by dusk and avoid venturing out alone. Avoiding the secluded areas around the forestland was comparatively easier, though the maids and servants often took that shortcut to the house from the village. But given their anger towards a particular section of people. I was more worried about Ananta roaming about the village on his cycle. He was very interested in following the developments, but too young to understand them. Once he saw the army trucks, he decided to join the army. India fighting for the freedom of East Pakistan also perhaps developed this sudden sense of patriotism in his young mind.
“There is something magical about the uniform. So powerful.” He spoke as all of us looked up at him. Bibha laughed.
“Yesterday, you ran and hid behind Lata, seeing a lizard.” She reminded him as Thamma patted his hair and dismissed the crazy idea. “You will get educated and help Dada here.” It wasn’t a suggestion but a statement. This was all before he finally inclined towards music, much to Thamma’s detest but Lata’s relief. Her face had turned pale as Ananta casually flirted with the idea of joining the armed forces in one of our study sessions. She had scolded him, much to my surprise. 
“Don’t say such things! You aren’t going anywhere.” Her voice was firm. I was sure even if Ananta convinced Thamma, he could never do so to his Didi.

Although there was nothing left of the Zamindari twenty-odd years after it was abolished, the villagers seemed to be slow to realise that. They still preferred coming to us with their problems, hoping we would talk to the government and solve their issues, and the Panchayat had this sudden idea of making Thamma the face of their elections. Thamma thankfully refrained from entering politics, but that meant they hounded me, over and over, for the same. I lied to them that I didn’t understand politics, hence I would be a waste of a candidate. However, their constant pestering prompted Thamma to reassure them that one of the members of our household, namely me, in the absence of Dada, would attend the Panchayat sessions as an advisor. So every Wednesday morning, I had to be clad in a crisp, ironed white Panjabi and the brown-bordered milk white dhuti and attend the meetings. Without fail, Lata would keep my watch, handkerchief, golden buttons, and comb right in front of my eyes before leaving on Tuesdays, so that I didn’t lose them from under my nose in the morning.

Once, a man in his late teens was the main subject of the Panchayat meeting. He was frail and looked like he hadn’t bathed or eaten for days. He was tied, by his hands and legs, to the pole in the middle, surrounded by angry onlookers. I looked at the Panchayat with questioning eyes. 
“He is one of the Naxals.” One of the old men quipped. “We found him in the forest with three grenades.” He pointed to a dirty jute bag in front of him. “We are going to hand him over to the police.” As soon as he spoke, a widowed woman seemed to appear out of the crowd and almost fell at my feet, wailing. I stepped back in horror.
“Please don’t hand him over, he is all I have. He made a mistake, Mejo Jamidar Babu. He will do anything you say. They will kill him.” I was speechless.
“Don’t create drama here.” Someone rebuked, “ What if he attacked the Zamindar bari with those?” My heart skipped a beat at his words. A buzz of gasp and amazement ran through the crowd.
“What if the grenades burst into his house? He lives next door.” Quipped a man. I looked up at the young man who stood defeated, bruises on his body indicating he had been beaten up.

I would definitely hand him over to the government to protect my family. There was no doubt about it. I eyed his mother. If I went home knowing this man would be taken by the police somewhere in the secluded forest, told to run for his life and eventually be shot down in a mock shootout, after giving him up to the police, his mother would definitely go to Thamma wailing. I suddenly felt like Lata would be very disappointed in me. If she were in my place, she would tell the entire village that everyone made mistakes, and everyone was swayed by causes. Everyone deserves a second chance. So did this youth. I looked up at him. Then, around me, in the crowd. The panchayat had reached its verdict. Out of courtesy, they were waiting for my say in the matter. These men, elected to represent the Government in our small province, were doing their jobs right, perhaps unaware of the other side of the coin, the cause of an uprising, the police brutality, and the pain of losing a loved one. I sighed. What was expected of me here? Who was I today? The Choto Jamindar? A responsible citizen? A privileged upper-class man? A protective family head? Or Lata’s Deb da? 

The Panchayat had gathered around Thamma the very next day, complaining about the way I personally funded the youth and his mother to move to another location where he could farm on one of our lands, and his mother could sell pots. She looked rather disappointed at first, frowning at the situation. What good came of it? Was I capable of assuring anyone he wouldn’t sway back to his old ways? No. Of course not. I went against the village and even perhaps the Government. If these men alerted authorities, I would be in deep trouble with the law. I knew that. Thamma made her decision. I was no longer a part of the Panchayat. The men were relieved, and so was I. More relieved than them, actually. Lata walked in with the tea for the five men who flocked around Thamma and placed them down one by one on the table, prompting one of the older men to ask her about her studies. She smiled with a slight nod. No words came out of her mouth. But her hand stopped when she heard what I had done. She looked up almost in disbelief at me when she handed me the cup of tea as I stood silently behind Thamma’s chair. I eyed her. She went about her work soon after, with a satisfying, relieved smile on her lips. 
It was a few days later, in the afternoon, when she walked into my room with a strange question.

“Where did you send Benu Kakima?” I frowned, half sitting up from my lying-down posture, putting the bookmark in the book. She understood I was quite clueless. 
“The woman and her Naxal son.” She clarified. I sat up, a little concerned.
“Stay away from such people, it's not safe,” I commanded.
“I bought pots from her, and they were beautiful. Perfect for the flower plants on the parapets of the roof.” She shrugged. 
“The roof?” I was a little clueless. She shook her head. 
“Have you never been up there? Or look up even? At your own house? Or even ours?” She looked amazed at my ignorance before murmuring to herself. “I took up gardening in my free time and planted small shrubs with beautiful flowers on the roofs. Nobody cares.”

That night, I was up on the moonlit roof, alone, having a smoke in the darkness, eyeing the lines of plants in colourfully made pots. I looked across at the Chattopadhyay house, the lights dimly lit in two of the rooms even at that hour. The bulb on the balcony was suddenly turned on as I stopped to observe. Lata walked out, her hair falling loosely over her shoulder, as she stood braiding her hair for a while, looking away into the empty road, lost in her own world. Her Kakima called her inside, prompting her to hurry with her braiding. Even if she looked up at our house, across the Singhaduar, it would be impossible for her to spot me in the darkness. 

A few weeks later, I went on an inspection of our farmlands. I came back home with large baskets of vegetables, sacks of paddy and freshly ripened fruits as my eager siblings eyed the inspection of their quality by Thamma and her Munshi. I was tired and quickly retreated from the scene of scrutiny to my room. It was perhaps almost dinner time when Lata came by, with a copy in hand.
“Are you busy, Deb da?” She made me open my eyes as I sat up on the bed. “I can come back tomorrow.”
“No, I was looking for you,” I said, making her stop. She handed me the doubts she had noted down in the copy. “Maths in the new class is tough.” She complained. 
“There is something for you there.” I gestured at a corner of the room between the wall and the table as I eyed her copy and solved the problems. She walked up to the pointed sack eagerly and sat down on the floor to open it. I could sense her happiness as she gushed. 
“You got my pots!”
“The plants are nice. But that doesn’t mean you waste time doing that. You need to study more this year.” I sounded monotonous. She nodded as she came over to understand the solutions.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Towards You

The Afghans, after Sher Shah Suri's untimely demise, were at loggerheads for power. Their troops near Mewar were now led by Mehmood Shah. They secretly captured territories in the forests and waited to attack Mewari camps when the time was right. Rawat Chundawat and his spies had confirmed the news, and Udai Singh sent a warning to Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now that it was out in the open, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. His internal rebellion against his commander did not help his cause. His spies clearly suggested that in no way could he win, especially with Kunwar Pratap leading his troops. He was having second thoughts about the war. It was then that one of his aides suggested a perfect plan. Maharani Jaivanta Bai had decided to go to the Mahakaleshwar Temple near the outskirts of Chittorgarh, in the forestlands of Bhilwara. They had travelled a long way and across the Gambhiri river that meandered during...

Purnota: Chapter Three

“Did you ask for me, Dadu?” Bondita asked as the old man smiled at her. She looked fresh, with her hair neatly braided and a cotton pleated skirt, Thamma sewn with a faded top of one of her cousins, as she stood before the old man sitting on the porch. “Yes indeed, Didibhai, you didn’t come for chess yesterday.” The man smiled. “Oh, Pradhan Jyatha wanted me to look out for the …” She stopped as she saw Aniruddha walking towards them down the corridor. She eyed him as the old man followed her gaze. “Oh Aniruddha Babu, come here. This is Bondita Das.” Aniruddha smiled at the child as she looked away. “She is the only girl in the village who has appeared for her final examinations this year. She is very intelligent and…” Aniruddha nodded “She helped me a lot yesterday.” He made her look up, with a cold stare at him as he smiled politely. “Yes, I have called her here to show you around the village. He wants to see the affected areas of the Adivasis, Bondita.” The old man made her nod. “But...

She Left...

The war was over and so were the hopes of regaining Chittor. The Battle at Haldighati had robbed the Rana of all his wealth, and brave men, and bruised him for life. Trying to match up to Akbar or rather Raja Man Singh's army with one-third its strength had cost his bravery dearly. He had lost his friend and companion. He had brushed past death. The only good thing that this war ensured was that Akbar accepted that he cannot have Mewar. His army retreated and left the country in peace after almost two decades and seventeen wars. This war gave something else too. Kunwar Shakti came to help his brother in his time of need. He lived up to his brother's expectations of being loyal to his family. A heavy-hearted Rana Pratap Singh was overseeing the construction work on his lost friend's memorial right where he died, trying to save his master. The Bronze statue of the life-like Chetak stood tall but was no match for the void Chetak has left behind. He was lost in his thoughts as ...

You Deserve More

Ajabdeh woke up with the song of birds as she felt something warm on her hand. Her eyes went wide. Her hand was on the pillow in between them, between his hands, clasped as he slept. She thought of removing it slowly, but he was holding on to it so tightly. Ajabdeh's heart beat faster and faster. What do I do now? How do I not wake him? What if... why is my hand in his? She was utterly confused.   " Am I...In love?" Pratap was staring at the sleeping figure on the bed as he stared back at the rain. Then he frowned as he noticed that she shivered. He closed the windows of the room to make it cosy, then sat on his side of the bed. A lamp flickered on her side like always, and he stared at her sleeping figure as he put his blanket over her as well. She shifted a little in her sleep to make herself cosy again. Her payals and bangles made a rhythmic sound, breaking the silence of the room. Her hand was out of her blanket and on the pillow in between. He tried to slowly put it ...

Purnota: Chapter Four

The group of youth provided by the Pradhan proved efficient for Aniruddha’s liking as they helped him survey the villages, create a set of data and provide a rough idea of how much fund was needed to rebuild the roofs and fallen walls. “What if we make them permanent? That way, the next cyclone will cause less damage. Pakka houses may also get other facilities like toilets and…” Aniruddha suggested as his eyes shone in the flickering light of the dimly lit kerosene lamp in the living room of Pradhan’s house. Drops of perspiration had formed on his forehead in the load-shedding, and the mosquitoes buzzed around them. For the first two nights, Aniruddha could barely sleep in the unfamiliar surroundings with buzzing insects, sounds of the unknown, and eerie animals here and there at a distance. Stories of snakes climbing up to the second floor through windows despite the mosquito net protecting his four-poster bed kept him alarmed. By the third day, after a day’s survey through the villag...

Purnota: Chapter Six

Kalindi waited outside the hut, on the torn mat they usually slept on, using the hand fan to drive away mosquitoes as she stared at the empty path leading out of the house, the path Bondita had taken some time back. It was almost an hour. Did the foolish girl escape or land in trouble? To her relief, she could hear her nephew snoring away indoors, reassuring her that they were at least not caught by the villagers till now. She was sure Bondita would return empty-handed and hurt, and that she would have no other way than to accept the proposal from the Pradhan. That morning, her Kaka would accompany Sarkar Moshai to the adjacent village to talk to a family friend of the Sarkars. They were looking for a bride for their sixteen-year-old eldest son, who worked as a labourer in Sealdah. Kalindi had tears in her eyes. Not much had changed in these years; not much of women’s fate was different, wasn't it? Kalindi was about ten years old when her father took her to the Roy Chowdhury house ...

A Heart at War

Legend has it that Pratap had to struggle for his father Rana Udai Singh's approval on his wedding with the daughter of Bijoliya's chieftain's daughter, Ajbante Kanwar Punwar. It is so because he was the crown prince and his first queen was supposed to be the next queen of Mewar. Hence his father expected his first bride to be a powerful princess who would aid his political needs. But stubborn as he always was, Kunwar Pratap had other plans. The water of the Bhimlat was still. The sound of the waterfall could be heard in the silent afternoon in the dense forest. A pebble caused ripples in the water and alerted the horse gazing nearby. He looked up at the source of the stone. Then began grazing peacefully once again. The source of the stone however was far from being peaceful. His face wore a frown as he stared around restlessly for the umpteenth time. He sat unmindful on the large rock on the bank of the water body watching the ripples closely, lost in thoughts. The soun...

Purnota: Chapter Five

Aniruddha finished reading the book he had carried with him in the dim light of the bulb in his room and decided to pack it away. He was leaving in a few days and wanted to make sure he left nothing behind. The construction work on the school had started, and the Panchayat wanted to give him a thankful farewell he humbly refused. The spotlight should be on Trilochon to help with his next election campaign. Aniruddha did not want to associate himself with the party or the job. He contemplated going back home and telling his father that he had decided to pursue a career in India instead of his initial plan of going back to London. He had been giving it a thought for quite some time, and the day he said it out loud to Bondita, he knew in his subconscious mind he had already decided on it. The more he saw the village, the more sure he was that he was needed by his countrymen. Dadu put faith in him that he could be part of something bigger than himself and his career, and he intended to kee...

Life and You

" Maharanisa! Maharanisa!" The maid-in-waiting ran through the quiet Rani Mahal as Jaivanta Bai, who was sitting in front of the Lord in her room ever since she was back, rushed out of her room, followed by Sajjabai and Veerbai. " What happened?" She asked, her voice calm, but her heart thumping. " Kunwarsa is here... with Kunwarani... She... She...." The maid sobbed as Jaivanta Bai rushed to the room. She stood at the door as her eyes could not believe what she saw. Kunwar Pratap was soaked in her blood as he laid her down on the bed, shouting, " Quick. Rajvaidya..." His eyes stopped at the door as Jaivanta Bai rushed to be beside the unconscious Ajabdeh. The Daasis and Sevaks were running about soon enough. Sajja Bai gasped at the scene. So much blood. Kunwar Pratap had not noticed anything except her calm, unconscious face. Now that he noticed his blood-soaked hands, red, he stared at them as though in a trance. "Kunwar Pratap! Tell me w...

Unsaid

"Keep the Lehenga in this one, that jewellery in the box." Jaivanta Bai was ordering the ladies in the Ranimahal around. Kunwar Shakti entered with an equally stunned Kunwar Pratap at the scene as the hall turned into a mini market thanks to their mothers. " Kunwar Pratap is here." Dheerbai smiled at the duo as she walked up to them. " Choti ma, what are all these?" He asked, surprised. " Shagun!" Sajjabai answered excitedly."For Kuwaranisa. She will be blessed with these for the Sagaai. " Sajja Bai smiled at Jaivanta Bai, who nodded. "What Sagaai ?" Kunwar Pratap frowned at his mother. "Your engagement , aree , no one told him?" Sajja giggled a little, amused. " The four of us are choosing separate gifts of our own choice for your bride, Kunwarsa, come and see." Veer Bai urged him.   "The Sagaai is in three days, followed by the wedding on the Seventh, Rajpurohitji had said," Dheerbai informed ...