Lifescape

By Debamita Chakraborty

Lifescape adorns a truly rustic veil as it unfolds the village life of Kutch in the decades of crises, their struggle to combat with the external forces of nature, social and economic injustice, and to adapt themselves to new, unfavourable conditions. Boorabhai Rawabhai Changa, is an elderly, enlightened, unlettered man who, with his wisdom and motivation and his abiding faith in the common people, was responsible for bridging a broken culture. The pivotal character is Gulaali, a victim of brutal rape and stigmatised by society, who, after her traumatic experience is through a painful process of sculpting her own identity gradually becomes an embodiment of emancipation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pencil
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9789390266920

Book preview

Lifescape

BY

Debamita Chakraborty

---

ISBN 9789390266920

© Debamita Chakraborty 2020

Published in India 2020 by Pencil

A brand of

One Point Six Technologies Pvt. Ltd.

123, Building J2, Shram Seva Premises,

Wadala Truck Terminal, Wadala (E)

Mumbai 400037, Maharashtra, INDIA

E [e-mail]

W www.thepencilapp.com

All rights reserved worldwide

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the Publisher. Any person who commits an unauthorized act in relation to this publication can be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. The opinions expressed in this book do not seek to reflect the views of the Publisher.

Author biography

Debamita Chakraborty has taught literature in Digboi College for over 15 years and has also served as the HOD of the English Department. She is currently involved in teaching English as a foreign language in Abu Dhabi. She came up with the idea of this novel while working in Tolani College in Gandhidham, Gujarat, as she observed the lives of the people living in the Kutch.

Contents

1. 1 STRONG WINDS AND STORM SURGING

2. 2 THEY FACE THE ORDEAL

3. 3 THE UPHEAVAL IN GULAALIS LIFE

4. 4 DEEP CONDEMNATION, FURY, DESPAIR AND GENERAL GOSSIP

5. 5 AN EARTHY EXPERIENCE

6. 6 ART COMES ALIVE - CREATING MAGIC WITH YARNS

7. 7 THE VIVID SHADES OF LIFE

8. 8 WHIMS OF THE STARS

9. 9 A PLETHORA OF VARIED HUES

10. 10 ON THE THRESHOLD OF A NEW LIFE

11. 11 LIFES LITTLE JOYS

12. 12 NO GREATER LOVE

13. 13 UNWARY HEART

14. 14 BID FOR INDEPENDENCE

15. 15 ASANJO KUTCH

16. 16 RECENT AND RETROSPECTIVE

17. 17 WIPE AWAY THE TEARS

18. 18 ANOTHER LIFE-A STEP FORWARD

19. 19 BEYOND THE HORIZON

20. 20 EYES ON HUMANITY

Epigraph

I dedicate this novel to my dearest bestie Rosy, who has left for Heavenly Abode…

The Love of heaven makes one heavenly…

Acknowledgements

My profound thanks to my beloved family for their encouragement to traverse this spectrum of innocence to experience. 

1 STRONG WINDS AND STORM SURGING

With the banyan trees oscillating under an overcast sky, the dilapidated hut of Boorabhai Rawabhai Changa swayed, as the furious wind raged like a tempest indicating the swelling of a storm, thus presaging imminent disaster for the awe- stricken villagers. With the onset of an intimidating deluge the sky loomed like a dark canopy encompassing the villages along the coastal belt around the Gulf of Kutch which are most vulnerable to high surges from cyclonic storms. As he walked out of his bhunga(hut), Boorabhai heard a strange sound floating in the wind, an eerie chorus of human wailing and screaming. He looked pensive and a sudden chill rushed down his spine. The storm rises in ferocity as his house itself begins to give way beneath the lashing of the gale, and soon hundreds of houses collapse with the forceful whip of wind as the life of the villagers begin to flicker to its end. Desperately, Boorabhai pushes a box against the door to prevent it from bursting open. The onslaught of the high velocity winds followed by the sudden torrential rains looked petrifying. And then all of a sudden, disaster struck! The terrified people ran helter-skelter in search of refuge with their crying children, with their small bundles containing whatever precious items they had, and women screaming for help. With the storm surge riding on tidal waves, the flat coastal areas were inundated by water which gushed through the narrow openings of its coastal gulches, churning and roiling with the velocity of a waterfall. It appeared like sheer mayhem, with lashing rains drenching all to their skins, inundating the area making it difficult for movement. Boorabhai looked greatly stupefied as his hut was  washed away by the fresh flood and almost by some reflex action he held on to one of the bamboo props of his bhunga which stopped him from flowing away with the voluble waters.

Khodi Amma Khodi Amma Bachao...Maata Aambe...Momay Maate...Save Us!  The horrifying shouts from the village-folks as they prayed for help was deafened by the thunderous uproar of the wind which lashed relentlessly wiping the entire area.

 Oh! We are drowning...the force of the water is rising...hold on everyone...Come on...Help! The petrified voices screamed as the area was swamped with rushing water.

Almost after thirty-five years such rains have occurred with an intense ferocity leaving the people stranded as they were unprepared for such a catastrophe. Natural calamity of such intensity had a devastating effect with the incessant ferocity of the wind and rain water which sloshed over the land. In the process it resulted in loss of life and property which could never be compensated. It all happened so quickly.

      Dreadful echo of heart-rending wails reverberating through the vast expanse of the desert land signified the woes of the menacing calamity. A dreadful image of people, cattle and their possessions floating everywhere depicted a portentous vision. Obviously, the sense of this experience must corroborate with the enlarged reality of the situation; the survivors were seen to struggle, to adapt themselves to new, unfavourable conditions. It was an anecdote of the gradually ceasing cultural milieu. What remained was a rain washed, sand swept and a totally wrecked and whirling community seeking resurgence. Struck by an unknown, uncanny terror they knew not where to seek refuge. The stark landscape of Kutch was taken over by such a dramatic sand-storm and overwhelming flood that it detached people from the mainstream of life, an outcome of the deleterious global warming.

 After the initial panic-stricken rush subsided, the intrepid reached forward to lift people to safety but the onset of the wind and rain pounded onto them so heavily that many started slipping and were on the receiving end of the turbulence. This cycle of events is adequate to embody the fundamental nature of these rustic people: their endurance and passionate yearning for hope, for survival. It is the presence of this intent which gives power to intention and motivates  people to resist all hindrance.

Kanjilalla hugged his ten year old son Mohan, and feared the worst. A floating tree rams their hut and knocks it down. In an instant, the entire hut is washed away, and the area is swamped with rushing water. Kanjilalla desperately tries to hold on to something, but soon finds himself deeply submerged in water.

This is perhaps the end of our lives son! W-we are in danger...We-we cannot swim against the current of the water...Just Hold Me Tight! Kanjilalla shouts instructions to his son who was horror-struck as the water gushes in.

Mohan was drifting and was gulping in the pool of gushing water. Boorabhai wades out into the water towards them. Instinct takes over and with a rush of adrenaline, Boorabhai swims down to the front yard which was fully submerged and reaches out for Mohan’s hand.

 Hold on! Hold on, Dikra...I’m coming to your side..., Boorabhai’s words were barely audible in the tumult. He reached near the petrified child with powerful strokes and finally managed to hold his upper arms. He yanked the boy along with him towards safety with decisive strides. Boorabhai shows an act of bravado by sloshing through the waist deep water with little Mohan on his back.

 Hold my hand...Kanjilalla...Pull Me Up, Quick the brave man shouted, the rain almost blinding Boorabhai’s eyes.

 Yes...Boorabhai! Kanjilalla hollers and extends his hand, his feet precariously positioned on the muddy soil. Together Kanjilalla and Boorabhai pull the boy up to safe shores, the wind and rain almost blocking their way making them stagger as they move forward. The violent cyclone was merciless and gigantic. It almost broke the back-bone of the Kutch portal killing many and leaving the people devastated. 

 Panjo...Kutch(Our Kutch)...Destroyed! The voices were heard beyond the deafening torrent. The loss of human lives, crops and cattle entirely dispossessed and disconcerted the people. They were posed with the tangible fact of overwhelming disintegration. On the brink of collapse,the elderly men of the village -  Boorabhai, Madho kaka and the village sarpanch, Parvat Yogi contemplate on the calamitous situation they have become embroiled in and try to revive their strength of mind when they realise that the survival of these inhabitants rests in their hands.      

 The dramatic storm over the bleak landscape of Kutch left an almost eerie sensation. Through the heavy dark shroud of grief the acceptance came slowly; painfully born from the knowledge that everyone faced the same fate; and little by little their fear and agony seemed to dissolve and turned to marvel at the courage of their fellow human beings during the upheaval. Essentially a simple, exhilarating example of faith and loyalty connect the folks to take steps collectively; the will to forge ahead and overcome the obstacles they will encounter. And so the people of the far-flung areas of Kutch, in their increasing frustrations and sufferings, are depicted as an invincible group set forth to work towards reviving their life and land.

 The timbre of an unfathomable melody filled the poignant air as if to give one another comfort and warmth. The mystical sound of the almost extinct stringed instrument of Kutch, the ‘Surando’ being played by Mooralala Bha, one of the handful of percussionists left narrating the stories of star-crossed lovers, transcendental musicians and desert storms; the mellow strains now seemed to opine the perilous times at dusk. In this twilight hour, the intense soul-tearing refrains touched the core of the heart delineating a divine fusion of sky, sand and sea which transcends the tragic predicament by offering a plethora of positive energy - as a harbinger of better times to come. The euphony of the musician Mooralala Marwada, as he goes into a deep trance where nothing but he and the beat exist, leaves one mesmerised. Some of the saddened hearts gather in an attempt to alleviate their sorrow by getting absorbed in the mystical sounds of music.  Mooralala Bha can weave tunes into endless streams of interlinked anecdotal constellations that have no beginning or end. The villagers huddled together with dark, sad eyes and tears on their cheeks wrapped up in silent contemplation on the complexity of life, veiled with mystery and the long, turbulent journey awaiting them; this odyssey of life which is to be a continual reconstruction of tradition and evolution for them. 

 It is deep dusk when the village council begins, with all the senior citizens gathered near the Shiva temple. Contrary to the view that the gruesome tragedy had a devastating impact on their natural existence, the people of Tunda, Lunwa and Moti Chirai villages are ardent on embarking on a new journey to investigate the unknown nuances of life: to survive, thrive and remain relevant at this crucial stage.

We’re going to prepare ourselves as winners in life and not be overwhelmed by the upheaval... Parbat Yogi, the local sarpanch or the village headman, spoke, twirling his long moustache, And such things suggesting the wrath of the Divine have also occurred in the past. These calamities have happened and are on-going. We have to adopt a stoic resistance towards such peril... Bhaiyo, Barobar(okay)?

Bu-but what can be done against such large scale destruction Parbat Bhai? We are poor ‘ kheruts’...and now with all our crops destroyed what can be done? Raghu Bagela voiced his despair.   

Su Kerero(What are you doing)? Nothing at all, except shedding tears! From a neutral perspective it is important to say that we have survived the hazards to a certain extent. One thing is for certain - the definition of what constitutes courage and unity in adversity should evolve with an open mind and a sense of optimism pronounced Boorabhai grimly, his words and eyes intent on reviving the remaining shreds of their existence.

It is important that we only have to try to organize ourselves for this new situation. Only Us! Parvat Yogi intervenes in an unflinching voice.

 Everyone nodded in approval. Of course they have questions and fears, but they hesitate to express themselves; they know others are experiencing far worse. They have to deal with the situation without complaining...the avalanche of problems totally saturating them. The optimistic tone can be detected here with the villagers getting back to normalcy finding work and decent shelter. They reach to encompass a larger segment of mankind. Neither the floods nor the despondency that they face can overcome the determination of these people.

2 THEY FACE THE ORDEAL

 The tumult of the storm lasted for days thus bringing untold misery for the inhabitants, with devastating loss of life, epidemic diseases, and massive destruction of crops and vegetation outlining the tragic predicament of mankind. Natural calamity brings forth both physical and emotional turbulence, disrupts years of orderliness, vigorously shaking up years of fossilization, deracinating men of their autochthonous element. After the incessant rains and stormy winds, the people were blinded by the scorching sun, and the impact of the heat was like a biting satire on humanity’s loss. Here we come across a group of stoic people who have endured nature’s wrath. Boorabhai’s experience did witness such an occurrence when during his early years a shattering earthquake hit the area uprooting the existence of life. The gruelling heat and gnawing hunger have taken a further toll on their life.

 Sitting on the muddy ground he muttered, This is inevitable, because we have sinned; it is God’s wrath upon us to make us aware of his power. The exploitation of man against man is getting so rampant that such a colossal destruction was bound to occur.

People like Boorabhai seem to embody a human spirit as he manifests his credo that collective acts yield best results. He has thus enlarged his compassion to all human beings. He cares about his fellow human beings and understands them strikingly well. One of the prime instances of his insight into and compassion for humanity is when he makes his point about collective effort to resist calamity which stresses man’s value and potential depth of character and his exuberant belief in his people’s worth. Perfidy, rage and rapacity have become the order of the day and the villagers were petrified of the years of exploitation by the landlords. However, life is ever changing and people gradually get accustomed to their predicament. Trying to weave a new pattern into their tattered lives, the inhabitants of Tunda, Lunwa and Moti Chirai village in Bachau and Anjar Talukas(district) were gradually picking up the shreds of their ripped existence. The quotidian actualities of rural life embody grim reality with constraints in every sphere. The residents of these areas sift through the sands and debris of their homes; their ‘bhungas’ or round mud houses, their fields and wells destroyed by the wrath of the tempest. Amazingly these people are striking back; adapting, altering and improvising to beat back nature’s assault. With renewed hope they make an effort and strive relentlessly to eliminate their misery. Hundreds mourn, as the wounds of the calamity are still fresh  and the itinerant farmers tried to relocate to dry areas.  

 "Haiyo, Chhadyo Hane(Now Drop