MEMOIRES OF ANOTHER DAY - XX -Arun Rou Mukherjee

XX : It was raining that evening. Mejomama’s friend Tukuni Da and Jaban Dadu were the centre of attraction and all others were literally gulping down the words coming from their mouths. The story that came out was that of a villager residing at Belakoba, a village on the way towards Siliguri. Last night the villager came out of his hut to attend to a nature’s call. In villages there being no latrine or toilet, villagers used to go to the open field and the villager also did just that. Suddenly he saw a man, his eyes shining like electric bulbs and as tall as a coconut or date tree coming from the north and straight towards him. He was almost fainting but that tall man told him not to be afraid and said that he was Aswaththama, son of Dronacharyya, now living in the Himalayas and going to Puri to attend the yearly Ratha-Jatra ceremony. The tall man, a giant indeed then left the place and vanished towards the southern horizon. Tukuni Da got the news early in the morning and immediately rushed to Belakoba accompanied by Jiban Dadu. Both of them visited the place where the villager stated to have met Awsaththama. They could not find any trace of the legendary figure but they saw with their own eyes the footprints left on the muddy soil at two places on the field. The prints were prominent and the size of the footprint from hill to toe almost covered an umbrella from its handle to the top. The discussion that evening centered on that story.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

WE ALL WISH YOU A HAPPY AND PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR!
Arun Roy Mukherjee
Debarghya Mukhopadhyay
Gouravmoy Banerjee
Abesh Roy
Dipmala Mohinta

Memoires of another day -XIX - Arun Roy Mukherjee

XIX : During this time (though I do not remember the year and month, but most probably sometime in between 1938 and 1941) once we went to Jalpaiguri during the rains and left after the Durga Puja festival was over. In those days the train journay from Calcutta to Jalpaiguri and Darjeeling was different. We boarded the Darjeeling Mail at Sealdah in the evening. The train then moved through Barrackpore, Naihati, Ranaghat and then Darshana, Poradah, Bheramara, Paksi, Iswardi, Natore, Santahar, Parbatipur, Sodepur, Nilfamari (all now in present day Bangladesh) reached Siliguri Town station via Jalpaiguri early nest morning. We crossed the mighty Padma river over a railway bridge known as Sara Bridge in between Bheramara and Paksi. We reached Jalpaiguri station early in the morning. Every morning a big adda was held on the varanda of our kitchen. The morning adda centered around Nanda Buro (father of Jibontosh Banerjee). He was a very old man and short of sight and almost blind. Didima would cook our morning breakfast and prepare tea for all. My mother and uncles called them as Jiban Kaka and Dadu. Every morning one of my uncles or any other local resident would help Nanada Buro to come to our house and the adda would start. In those days the relation between the residents of a locality was like members of the same family and the elders took care of any one young and the young ones paid total respect, honour and submission to all the elders. This was true not only of our Para (locality) alone but of the entire town. Each other knew almost all the residents of the town. Nanda Buro was a very jolly and witty person and therefore many persons, young or old, would just join in the adda on their way to or back from the daily shopping and would also enjoy a cup of tea. My Dadu was then working at the Commissioner’s office. All my uncles were students then. Another adda also took place after the midday meal was over and it was an adda of a card game. Didima, my mother, Jiban Dadu (Jibantosh Banerjee) and some other from the locality would join the game and the game played was known as “29”. In the evening, another adda session started at our “Baro Ghar” which ranged from politics to football and on every other matter on earth.

Memoires of another day -XVIII - Arun Roy Mukherjee.

XVIII : In Calcutta we used to put up with the family of my Jethu (father’s elder brother) at Shyambazar. We used to spend a great time there. My Pishima (father’s elder sister) also lived nearby at Baghbazar. Many a times my Pishomashai would come and fetch me to their place where I used to stay with my Pishima for a few days. There were a few rabbits and a number of coloured fishes at Pishima’s house. Jamini Ganguly, the famous musician and teacher was my Jethuma’s elder brother. Jethuma’s other brothers and Chhabi Mama in particular, was also a very good singer.

Memoires of another day - by Arun Roy Mukherjee

XVII :. In between these periods we visited Calcutta a number of times. Calcutta, in those days, was not as happy a place to live in, as it is to day. There was no phantom of small screen culture. There were neither State Buses nor Mini Buses on the streets. Venom spewing Auto rickshaws did not take the people for a ride. Hawkers used to hawk on the lanes and by-lanes carrying their wares on their shoulders or heads. Only the pedestrians used the pavements on the thoroughfares. There were no co-ordination committees and no street-corner shops selling rolls and chowmins ; neither was Alimuddin nor blooming grass-root flowers. There was no craze for Rabindra Sangeet and Rabindra Nritya-natya. There were no "Sani" temples, "Tantra-Jyotish Karyalaya" and "Party Offices" thrown anywhere on the streets all around the city. Middle class educated Bengalis would not either sing or play Bollywood film songs in their homes and which could only be listened at the shops selling made betel leaf, "Bidi" and cigerattes and sung by the persons making biris. Songs blaring through loudspeakers chanting the names of Hari, Rama and Krishna, commonly known as "Nam-Sankirtan" for eight prahars (24 hours) or twentyfour prahars (72 hours) was not in vogue. Observations of community Siva-ratri were not organised; nor was there the Bangla Bands. Intellectuals were conspicuous by their absence. Whole night cultural programmes with great artists rendering Bollywood film songs were not organised by culture-conscious youths and backed by local political leaders and there was no early morning atrocities ("usha kaley utpat" in bengali) by the icon of modern culture. Girls and housewives of Bengal were deprived of showing their talents in Fashion Shows and Beauty contests; nor were there the hype on TV reality shows and talent hunts based on Bollywood’s hindi film music.