Memoires of another day - XI by A. Roy Mukherjee

XI : It was a stormy night. My father along with Bhola Da was out of station. After dinner we went to bed in our first floor bedroom. On that side, there was a paddy godown beside our house. It was probably past midnight when my mother woke me up. It was still raining and wind was also blowing at some speed. The room was dark except for the dim light coming from the dimmed kerosin lamp kept in a corner. Mother asked me by sign to keep quiet. Then she told me that a gang of dacoits had broken open the paddy godown and are plundering. Mother took me in tiptoe to a window and slightly opened it to have me a glimpse. I saw that the only guard and the manager at the godown were lying on the veranda tied in ropes. I also could see the dacoits taking the paddy packed in gunny bags and were putting those in carts. Then my mother closed the window carefully and we came back to our bed. I still remember that I did not feel afraid or scared but could not sleep for a long time.

Memoires of another day - X - by A. Roy Mukherjee

X : Bhola Da was my father’s orderly at that time and he stayed with us. One day he told us that a "Jatra" would be held at a nearby place. In those days Jatras used to start at : around nine or ten at night and used to continue till the early hours of next morning. I became very enthusiastic and begged my mother to allow me to go along with Bhola Da to the show. Bhola Da also ensured my mother that he would take proper care. So, that night, I accompanied by Bhola Da went for the show. The play was something about Ramayana. I do not now remember what I saw or listened there, but what is still etched in my memory is that particular scene when Ravana appeared on the scene. One glance, I squeezed my eyes shut and started crying in fear. "Take me home, Bhola Da. Take me home." were the only words on my lips. But Bhola Da was, by then, totally engrossed in the show and was just asking me to keep quiet. But the moment when Ravana drew out his sword and jumped on the stage, a loud wail came out from me. Bhola Da had no alternative but to take me home because other spectators also urged him to take me away.

Memoires of another day - IX - by Arun Roy Mukherjee

IX :: It was a dull evening when the train left us at the Dubrajpur Railway station. Excepting a dim kerosin light in the station master’s room there was not even a flicker of light anywhere around us. Three horse-drawn carriages waiting for us at the station brought us through that ocean of darkness to our local residence. It was another surprise waiting for us. The building was a mud-built, thatch roofed two storied structure. There were two big rooms and a very wide varanda covering both the rooms on the ground floor. A flight of stairs, also mud-build, in between the two ground floor rooms, took us to the two similar rooms on the first floor. The kitchen with a wide space was a separate structure and the bathroom and lavatory was at the far end of the courtyard. But the most amazing thing was that two huge stones occupied the rest of the inner courtyard. There was an open space lying in front of the house. But more surprises were waiting us the next morning. In the morning I woke up at the sound of voices of young children and boys coming from somewhere nearby. To my astonishment I found that many boys and children assembled and sat on small mats and gunny bags on the ground in a huge structure covered by a thatched roof with books and slate-pencil and were uttering the multiplication tables in unison led by a senior boy. An elderly person was sitting in a pedestal made of bamboo and enjoying his hukka. I learnt from my mother that it was a "pathshala". A few days there after I was also admitted to that pathshala and started my learning under the guidance of the "Guru Mahasaya". But more surprises were waiting for us in Dubrajpur. The famous "Mama-Bhagne" was just a little distance from our house. We could reach it through a narrow path. Initially I went there with my parents but as I got accustomed to the environs of the place, I visited the place with one or two friends and also alone on many occasions. Mama-Bhagne was situated up at a place which was neither a hill nor a man-made structure. We climed upto it through a flight of stairs curved into the natural stone. The top was almost plain. There was a temple at the top, the Mama-Bhagne and some open space. On many a days, when I visited that place I found sadhus (or so they seemed) sitting there or preparing or cooking something. Later I learnt that those sadhus were known as Tantrik sadhus. .

Memoires of Another Day - VIII - Arun Roy Mukherjee.

VIII : Sejomama (Basudev) and Rangamama’s sacred thread ceremony was a big incident at our Jalpaiguri house. I do not now remember whether it was 1937 or 1938 but Bachchulal was not born yet then. Naturally many of our relatives and family friends arrived. Chitu Da and Nadu Da came and two of my cousin sisters from my paternal side also came. Another gentleman, who a famous musician of those days ( I do nor remember his name) who was a friend of Chitu Da also accompanied Chitu Da by invitation. Chitu Da and Nadu Da both was my mother’s maternal uncle. My mother was the eldest among the siblings. Though Chitu Da was senior to my mother by a few years Nadu Da was younger by about ten/ twelve years. Nadu Da though an uncle, used to address my mother as "Didi". Chitu Da and Nadu Da were also accomplished singers. My mother and my cousin sisters were also good singers. Every evening, so long as the guests remained, a private musical jalsa (soiree) was organized in our house. Finchumama and me used to sit and listen to the music every evening and whether we could enjoy the music in the true sense or not, but never created any problem or any disturbances. Prior to this occasion I used to cry loudly whenever my mother started to sing a song and was thus an embarrassment to my mother in front of relatives and guests. But strangely enough, I stopped crying from then on when my mother sang any song.

MEMOIRES OF ANOTHER DAY - by A. Roy Mukherjee

V : At Kharagpur there was a lame man who would occasionally come but not for begging alms. He would appear on the left of the vast open field lying in front of our house and then cross over to the right in great speed almost running on one leg. I was very afraid of him. Not me alone but all the children of the locality were very afraid. My father purchased me a motor car that did not run on fuel but had a paddle and a steering to maneuver it. Naturally all the children of the locality came to make friends with me. One day when we were playing on our compound and I was driving the car, suddenly the lame man appeared. All the children, myself included, ran into our house. The car was abandoned on the compound.


VI : We had a brick-built well at the back of our house. Inside the well a few frogs and snakes coexisted, peacefully or nor is not known. But they coexisted. The water of the well was used for cleaning of the floors and for toilet and other purposes. Sometimes a frog and a snake would come out in the pail when water was drawn. The frogs were comparatively much bigger in size.

VII : While we were there, a rumour spread that a number of human beings are required to be sacrificed at the site where a railway bridge was then being constructed on the river Padma (now in Bangladesh). For this purpose some people have been engaged to catch some people, bring them to the construction site for sacrifice. The rumour was so strong that all the people at Kharagpur started coming home before sundown and stopped going out of doors thereafter. My father’s office was on the ground floor of our house building and a few office bearers and other office staff used to stay in a part of the ground floor. So, for a few days, every evening my parents would sit on the open portico and the office staff would sit on the ground floor underneath and the discussion would obviously hover around the human sacrifice. I would, however, not sit with my parents on the portico, but would sit inside the room beside a window and would intently listen to all the stories.

A moment to celebrate

A very prosperous Puja To all

From

Arun Roy Mukherjee ~~~Gouravmoy Banerjee~~~Abesh Roy

Dipmala Mohinta