Chalo Chinidad: Let's Go Trinadad

By Jang Bhagirathee

Chalo Chinidad is the true tale of Mohan, the protagonist, who left his motherland during the British oppression to go to a faraway land. Chinidad, as it was referred to during those days. The story is a complete documented presentation of the life of the Jahajis, fictional in projection, but true as a story. This book is for young adults and mature audiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 4, 2009
• ISBN: 9781450003858

Jang Bhagirathee

Jangbahadur Bhagirathee B.A. Canada, was born in Debe, Trinidad, West Indies. He is a second generation Indo-Trinidadian who was a High School teacher in Trinidad and New York. He graduated from the Hollywood Film Institute as a film director and producer. At present he resides in New York and is in the process of producing a film depicting the struggles and accomplishments of the Indians in the new land.

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Copyright © 2009 by Jang Bhagirathee.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009909520

ISBN:     Softcover         978-1-4415-7818-1

               Ebook               978-1-4500-0385-8

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, store in a retreival system, or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the Mr Jang B. Bhagirathee.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Chapter 1 Thoughts on My Village

Chapter 2 Growing up In Basti

Chapter 3 Historical Background

Chapter 4 Father Secures a Loan

Chapter 5 Life in Disgust

Chapter 6 I Prepare to Leave

Chapter 7 The Pain of Separation

Chapter 8 Journey to Calcutta

Chapter 9 Arrival in Trinidad

Chapter 10 My Letter Reaches Home

Chapter 11 Sumintra Joins Me

Chapter 12 Accident at Mill

Chapter 13 Rajwantie’s Dilemma

Chapter 14 Sukhram Falls in Love

Chapter 15 Internal Conflict

Chapter 16 My Son Weds His Sweetheart

Glossary

Acknowledgements

I wish to thank the following persons for helping me in various ways towards the preparation of this book: Gobin Sarju, Samuel Ramsundar, Ronald Singh, Betty Brown, Lalsingh Ramsingh and Kumar Ramdass. Special thanks to Basdeo Mangru, who gave me permission to use certain extracts from his book Benevolent Neutrality, to Gerard Besson and Bridget Brereton for permitting me to use photographs from their book A Book of Trinidad and Dr. Ashford Maharaj for his encouragement, support, and guidance.

Many thanks also to Tribhuwan Seegobin, Sat Maharaj, Frank Rampersad, Ajeet Praimsingh, Vijay Ramai, Kamaluddin Ghany, Ramesh Kalicharran, Doolarchand Hanoomansingh, Ashram Maharaj, Mahabir Dukhantie, Jolly and Sherry Bejaisingh and Marjorie and Lutchman Ramdeen for their unreserved support.

I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr.Brinsley Samaroo, Kathleen Kassiram, Gary Girdhari, Haripersad Harikissoon and especially, the late Parmananda Gopie for proofreading and editing the first edition of this work. I must also thank Roger D Ramcharitar for undertaking a comprehensive review of this book and for re-editting Chalo Chinidad.

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my wife, Indra, and children, Sandhya and Sanjay, for their patience and support.

Jang B Bhagirathee

Dedication

To the memories of my late mother, Jagwantie, and father, the late Shyam Bhagirathee, my Nani, the late Ramdularie, and my Aajee, the late Devaki, who was born in India.

arkathi%20speaks%20to%20crowd.jpg

Arkathi speaks to crowd

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new arrivals in Trinidad

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map of trinidad

Foreword

The abolition of slavery in the early 1830s left a vacuum in the sugarcane estates all across the West Indies. Given the fertility of the soil and the topography of Guyana and Trinidad & Tobago, sugarcane production was still a very lucrative business for the British planters. The cessation of a cheap source of a given factor of production, labor, by way of the system of slavery suggested that an alternative supply of human power had to be found. While some of the freed slaves continued to work on the sugar estates, many of them left the sugarcane plantation in search of alternative means of livelihood.

Freed slaves from the other Caribbean islands and southern United States and a small number of European workers were recruited for sugarcane plantation work, but neither of these two groups adequately stood up to the task. In any event, such transient groups did not find the wages relatively attractive enough to stay in the sugar estates over any sustained period of time and in due course, the previously captive laborers left for more lucrative and autonomous endeavors.

Laborers from Madeira and China were also brought in, but they were either not up to the task or those who were relatively more productive in the plantation soon moved to other areas in search of factory employment and other agricultural activities including wage-related work. Consequently, labor in the sugar estates was not in sufficient numbers to meet the rising demand for this category of workers. As a matter of fact, the new recruits in the sugarcane estates abandoned the budding rural communities for the more built-up areas, after only a few short years of plantation life.

It was the Indians from India, who had proven to be the unequivocally capable group of laborers who eventually came to the rescue of the ailing sugarcane industry in the West Indies. In the light of the failed experiments with other ethnic groups, augmented by their choice not to remain as sugarcane laborers over any protracted period of time, the pragmatic solution was to formulate some form of contractual labor. Under such a deliberate and calculated system, both employers and laborers were tied to an agreement, which stipulated specific rights and responsibilities within the milieu of a legalistic framework.

The indenture system was designed to ensure that the planters got value for the money invested and that, compliance by laborers to plantation work-rules were virtually guaranteed. On the other hand, the indentured immigrants were granted work and pay security over a specified period of time, usually five years, after which they were free to continue working for the same employer or switch to another employer. In addition, the immigrants were free to enter into his or her privately owned business venture in the post-contract period.

As part of the contract, the indentured immigrant could have chosen to return to India after the mandatory service on a given estate. Indeed, such was the case among almost one-third of the Indian Indentured Immigrants, who came to the West Indies between the years 1838 and 1917.

The factors that led the Indians to emigrate as indentured laborers were heterogeneous. For example, higher real wages in the West Indies, success stories being told by returning immigrants, and the favorable conditions especially in the post-contract period, were definite incentives that served as pulls for a prospective immigrant to make the trip. The push from India was hinged around realities such as food shortages in a famine ridden home country, low wages, and despondent unemployed youths.

The destruction of the artisan and handicraft industries brought on by the British industrial revolution and increasing indebtedness of the would-be indentured immigrant or his or her household were also factored into the decision to cross the kala paani. In addition, the Indian population was rising rapidly and fertile land was increasingly difficult to come by, a situation that resulted in lower crop-yield per acreage. Thus, land rent for good quality real estate was at an unconscionable premium and generally beyond the reach of many Indian laborers.

There is little doubt that young Mohan, the chief character in Chalo Chinidad, had to confront social, spiritual, psychological, and economic perplexities that were indeed common among the many youths in 19th and early 20th centuries British India. Part of the maturation process for Mohan therefore, was to come to grips with all the trappings of an inclination to become like mother and father and wanting to have a home and family of his own. For Mohan, the role model for himself was his father, who had instructed Mohan according to the strict aphoristic laws of Hinduism. Mohan’s mother was a truly obedient and God-fearing woman, who presented the model of a wife that Mohan would like to have someday.

Against such a background, the young Mohan had decided to make the trip across the treacherous kala paani in search of a better life, make some money, and then return to his homeland an economically independent person. Upon returning to his village, the relatively wealthy young adult would marry his just like mother sweetheart, Sumintra. But as the story goes, such was not to unfold in Mohan’s situation given that Sumintra had also trekked the westward journey unannounced to her pleasantly flabbergasted intended husband.

Mr. Bhagirathee has captured the imagination of many people as he portrayed the life of a successful indentured immigrant, the bonded laborer, who made it real big in the West Indies. From being just a simple unemployed youth in India who was uncertain as to availability of his next meal Mohan, the main character in the story, swiftly climbed the economic ladder of success. Mohan excelled from being just an obsequious hired hand, to supervisor, to landlord, and finally to an industrialist par excellence. Mohan became the quintessence of success suggesting that, with hard work, consistency, and a positive approach to life one can make it ‘big time’ in any part of this world. As the story goes, not only did Mohan made it really big, but also his only child, Suresh, grew into an embodiment of success such that the latter became a leading medical practitioner in San Fernando, the second largest town in Trinidad.

The story depicted the family as a social unit, who maintained the Hindu cultural and traditional order, thus demonstrating the fact that there is still substantive truths to the old adage that respect for one’s mother and father would result in one’s days being longer. And indeed, as was the situation depicted in the story, Mohan’s days were invariably happier and longer. By extension, the same could be said about Suresh, the young, humble and obedient first generation successful medical practitioner from an East Indian indentured immigrant family.

Chalo Chinidad, even though in fiction form, has made transparent the many ambiguities that people selectively perceived concerning East Indian indentured immigration as a crucial institution in the Caribbean’s social and economic environment. The absence of East Indian indentured immigration would have left a deep vacuum in the developmental dynamics relating to life in the West Indies, as we know it today.

East Indian indentured immigration was stigmatized with supercilious terms according to many documented sources. Chalo Chinidad has successfully dispelled some negative myths about the East Indians who crossed the kala paani. The production of this piece of writing by Mr. Bhagirathee will unquestionably find its place among the finest works on East Indian indentured immigration to the New World.

Ashford Maharaj Ph.D.

Professor of Business Administration

Berkeley College

White Plains, New York, USA

Chapter 1

The evening breeze cooled my body as I sat on the soft grass beneath the fruit-laden mango tree. The lovely-ripened fruits weighed down their branches reaching for the bosom of Mother Earth. From this hilltop my eyes took me to the beautiful village called Basti. I began scanning through everything in my village, for I knew that my days in this place called home were going to end soon. Never had I anticipated such a dramatic event, one that would change my life forever. A feeling of melancholy engulfed my being as I began thinking about what fate had done to me.

Looking down the hill I saw people, some of whom were my childhood friends, carrying out their daily chores. Youngsters were walking with their ploughs and bullocks to and from the farmland. Children were playing and acting out their childish whims and fantasies whilst the womenfolk carried goblets of water on their heads. Some were busy preparing dinner at the fireside, anticipating the return of their husbands and sons from the fields.

The green fields looked like a wilderness, graced with serenity and beauty. Grain was in abundance and the farmers were anxiously awaiting the harvesting time. Men walked with their cattle and other livestock from the grasslands towards home while boys sat comfortably on their bullocks as the animals walked slowly chewing their cuds. The evening sunset spread a kaleidoscope of colors across the entire village as it slowly descended into the horizon. A one-time pilgrimage to Mathura—the birthplace of Lord Krishna—came to my mind. There, I had witnessed a full enactment of his birth and youthful days, playing with the herds of cattle and the Gopis. The memory enlivened my spirit and I could feel the vibration which he had left on this sacred soil five thousand years ago. Not far from where I sat lay our modest home where I first opened my eyes some twenty years earlier. Being the eldest child in a family of three, I felt a deep sense of responsibility for the welfare of our household. Now, as an adult, I felt it my duty to strengthen the pillars upon which we all depended for sustenance.

My father, Ramprasad, was a medium built man of average height. He was a pious and humble man who never displayed anger or held resentment towards anyone regardless of his mood. This aspect of his character left a strong impression on my mind and later became part of my own personality.

Every morning, as the sun peeked through the clouds welcoming the dawn of a new day and the birds chirped on their branches, father would face the rising sun and offer prayers to the Almighty. Meanwhile, the animals awakened and the elders prayed and chanted names of the Lord of the Universe. My mother, Kowsilia, who was a religious and devoted person, never wasted time in idle talk with anyone. She was of a strong will and resisted temptations with ease. Being a devout Hindu, she observed fasting and prayer and conducted religious services.

Most people were unschooled and there was not much more for the womenfolk to do besides the daily chores—cooking, washing and attending to the needs of the children and the household. Despite the deep affection my parents held for each other, I never witnessed any physical manifestation. I viewed them as God-like figures who never indulged in physical expressions of their love. This kind of disciplined lifestyle they adopted completely humbled me. Their extraordinary behavior with us at home and with the neighbors was exemplary and they enjoyed respect from everyone who came in contact with them.

My brother Sohan, was about two years my junior, but our love for each other was extraordinary. We played together, ate together, walked together and our bond of brotherly love was special. This type of affection we shared was indeed rare and had destiny and circumstances not intervened, I might not have taken such a bold step which would shift my future path into a different direction.

I vividly recalled how the last meeting to which I was summoned by Bihari consummated a twist of fate for me and my entire family which later on added a new chapter in the making of world history. Bihari had a conglomeration of Eastern and Western values and this individual, in whom I laid full trust, played a key role in the shaping of my future. The decision I took was a most difficult one and it demanded the strength and resolve of a brazen hero. This was the first time, however, that I saw myself drifting alone in the sea of darkness. I became perplexed, moody and helpless. I felt that destiny had cheated me all along the way since childhood.

Poverty was the unfortunate toll of life for most people in my beloved country and it exposed its nakedness in diverse forms among its citizens.

This day brought so much uneasiness to my mind that time itself seemed an enemy. It seemed to stand still—increasing the pain of distress and confusion. My mind became like a large network of wires, charged with an enormous jolt of electricity traveling with such high velocity then disintegrating into nothingness. All messages seemed to garble away in its track. This feeling of helplessness intensified. As time resisted the force of motion, and under the weight of my uncertainties, I thought about my adorable parents whom I would be forced to leave behind.

I thought about my beloved brother who would usually not eat without me. I thought about my little sister, Sandhya, who would lovingly offer tea prepared with her own little hands. I thought about my young and beautiful Phuwa Gomati, who was so loving and kind to all of us. More devastating were the thoughts of how mother and father would bear this separation, especially when every day we three children would sit together, morning and evening, to have our meals. Mother and father would wait for us to begin eating then to partake of theirs.

I thought about Ramu, my next-door neighbor, who stood as a brother to me. We used to confide in each other and secrets, which we vowed to keep, had been honored to this day. To decide to leave all these good souls behind was most agonizing. These thoughts made me feel as if my soul was being pierced and I felt incapable of withstanding them.

Sumintra, whom I had known since I was a child, was attractive, beautiful, naive and self-contained. Walking along the same path very often gave us the opportunity for regular eye contact. As young children we looked at each other as just normal people trudging along the same path, but as we grew older we started taking a special interest in each other.

One day as Sumintra was hurrying through the steep track towards her father’s garden she stepped on a sharp stone and gashed her ankle. In the meantime, I was glancing here and there to have a glimpse of this beauty with whom I was falling in love. I became anxious when I did not see her head above the grass blades. From where I was working in the nearby field, I rushed to see what was wrong. As I drew closer I saw her ankle bleeding profusely. In haste, I pulled off the cloth wrapped around my head, tore off a piece and knelt down beside her. This was the first time I was touching her and my hands trembled as I tried to wrap the cloth over her wound. She was not crying but I could sense the pain that she was enduring. Her face was sweating and her body was tense. I clutched her in my arms and took her to a comfortable grassy spot for her to lie. Her hands engulfed my neck as she held on to me. She leaned towards my chest and I could hear her heart pounding against mine. I felt enraptured by this strange closeness.

As I laid her down and wrapped her wound with the cloth, she looked sideways but I could see that she was trying to steal a glance at me. I observed this a few times and it thrilled me. While dressing her wound and seeing her in pain, tears came to my eyes. I felt that her pain was now mine. For a moment, I felt that our bodies and soul had merged into one. As I attempted to wipe the tears away, Sumintra asked: Mohan, what’s the matter with you, are you crying?

I don’t know why this is happening to me, but I am sorry, I replied.

I felt embarrassed and somewhat awkward to see myself in such a state. Sumintra did not say anything more and as she turned her head away, I heard her make a soft cracking sound. I gently released her leg and leaned closer to her. Her head was bent and she was sobbing silently. I clutched her soft hands and slowly brought them towards my lips. I was trembling and my heart was racing. I had to pause because I was breathing heavily. I felt as though an electrical charge had shocked my body. My mind became a vacuum and seemed to