Balli of Bagdih

By Nilotpal Dutta

Smart and confident Balli has a deep connection with Bagdih, a coal mine in a fairly remote part of Bihar where his father works and where his Nana had chosen to work after the partition of India. Bagdih, which nurtures everyone who comes to earn livelihood and still holds no grudge when they never return, has a special relationship with Balli, whom she finds so much like herself.

Growing up in a small colony, Balli builds his beautiful world with Samar and lovely Samaira, whom he loves and feels fiercely protective about. As he helplessly watches his world slowly disintegrate due to misunderstandings and unmet expectations, he only has his promise of joining the Indian Army made to Nana and affection of a much older Shambhu to keep him moving.

Balli leaves the place that gave him everything to pursue his goals only to return years later on a rescue mission. As he encounters several emotions on his return and goes through upheavals, he finds solace only in Bagdih’s serene lap.

Set in the later part of twentieth century, ‘Balli of Bagdih’ is a depiction of how the characteristics of a place can build the character of a person born and brought up there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Oct 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9789356109346

Nilotpal Dutta

Nilotpal has been working in the Indian IT industry for more than 25 years and is currently employed as Director, Sales with a large IT MNC.Brought up in Dhanbad, he completed his schooling from De Nobili School, where he was awarded the ‘Most Representative Student Award’ for the outgoing batch. He received his degree in Mechanical Engineering from Birla Institute of Technology, Mesra, Ranchi. Subsequently, he obtained PGCBM from XLRI, Jamshedpur.His last novel ‘Everything and Nothing’, a pre-partition Bengal saga, was widely appreciated and was mentioned amongst ‘Top Ten Books of the week’ and rated by a reviewer as one of the 28 books that stood out in 2020.Nilotpal lives in Bangalore with his wife, Smita.Nilotpal’s website - www.nilotpaldutta.com.

Book preview

Quote-Left

‘Some changes look negative on the surface, but you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge.’

– Eckhart Tolle

Quote-Right

Chapter 01

Changing Environment in Bagdih

Orn

Like all other coal mines in Dhanbad, Bagdih was in a remote part of the district. It was surrounded by jungle that was almost two kilometres deep on two sides. Filled with a few tall and thick trees, and mostly dense growth of plants and shrubs, one could argue if it was worthy of being called a jungle or was just wild rampant growth. Adjacent to the jungle, almost bordering the two sides was the officers’ colony where Balli lived and ruled. No one believed more than him that the wild growth was actually a jungle, and since Bagdih means ‘house of lions’, maybe a century earlier a den for ferocious lions and tigers. The idea of living next to a jungle that was probably inhabited by wild animals at one point of time, which he could reach merely by hopping and swinging like the underwear clad Korak, young son of Tarzan, fascinated him. If not for the watchful eyes of his ever-vigilant mother, he would have scaled the boundary wall and disappeared into the jungle swinging from one branch to other in his underwear or without.

Bagdih, in parts extremely green and the rest dusty and dirty with coal dust, had a vertical expanse. She was like a tall, beautiful lady, who had dirty hands and feet because of toiling hard but had still managed to keep the elegance of her body and smile on her face intact. She was like a mother and friend to her residents, whom she welcomed with arms wide open, nurtured them, and then bid goodbye with equal warmth as they left her. Many came to Bagdih in search of livelihood, but never stayed after retirement. Men who came as trainees to learn their craft left for better career prospects. A few came to live for months in homes of their relatives to prepare for competitive examinations in the tranquil and calm environment and went on to become IAS/IPS officers. Bagdih treated all of them with love, happy witnessing their growth, but sadly none returned as she kept longing to see them again. But amongst so many that she sheltered and fed—men, women, and children of all kinds—she was developing a special fondness for Balli.

Four-and-a-half-year-old Balli, in many ways a true Sardar and in a few ways not, was a very proud son of his Sikh parents. Sardar kids in Bagdih and around were usually of strong built, but not Balli. Balli was lean, very lean, so much that the contours of the bones of his arms and legs were clearly visible. But those bones spoke of strength and not of any fragility or weakness. They were no brittle items ready to break if hit, but on the contrary looked hard enough to crack an adversary if attacked. And what he lacked in muscles, he made up with immense courage that he had.

Young Balli was a person with a clear mind and surely not one to be easily cowed down. Sikh kids usually wore a patka turban to cover their heads. And due to paucity of time and convenience many mothers just used a white handkerchief with a rubber band over the knotted hair of their children. But Balli, who always liked to keep things simple and avoided anything that he felt was not necessary, preferred his hair just knotted without any cover. In fact, for a long time he did not even like it knotted on the top of his head, but let it hang and sway over his shoulders. Then one evening the new girls in his neighbourhood mistook him for a girl and very cutely invited him to their doll houses. Now Balli was not one to hurt feelings of others, so he went to the doll house and played with them till late in the evening. But to everyone’s surprise, the next evening he was with his hair knotted on the top of his head, but without patka or white handkerchief. In loose shorts and a loose shirt with hair just knotted on his head, Balli lorded every area that he walked on.

It wasn’t for no reason that Balli felt he owned every inch of Bagdih.

Coal mining in India had predominantly been in the hands of private enterprise. Dhanbad, very rich in coal reserves, had several coking coal deep mines that were owned by businessmen who mostly operated with short term objectives of profit. Most of the businessmen just owned one or two mines. The absence of an organized industry brought in many downsides and dangers. Deep mining is a hazardous operation and safety of miners was never of utmost priority for these businessmen. Conflicts between workers and owners due to poor working conditions, lack of safety gear, and inadequate compensation in cases of accidents were common occurrences. Bagdih Coal Mine was owned by a Marwari businessman, shrewd and intelligent, who divided his time between Calcutta and Dhanbad. Balli’s maternal grandfather, his Nana, was a trusted aide of the businessman, his right-hand man if one believed the gossip on the dusty lanes of Bagdih.

Born and raised in Lahore, Nana was a man of modest means, but one with no ordinary grit and determination. He had walked miles with his two daughters and wife pregnant with Balli’s mother, one bundle on his head and two slung on his shoulders, to cross the border amidst mayhem and bloodshed during partition at the time of independence. For almost a decade he did odd jobs in Hoshiarpur till a chance encounter with a professor who was a freedom fighter and an active member of Congress Party. The wise professor, widely travelled, with connections across, explained to Nana during a conversation how India’s need for coal would multiply with the construction of steel plants and power generation plants. Coal was black diamond, he said. The needs of a young nation with rapidly increasing population could only be met with industrial expansion and coal was an essential ingredient. Nana had just one question for the professor—where was coal mined the most? Dhanbad was the first name that came out of the professor’s mouth. With two unmarried daughters and a wife who was not keeping too well, Nana changed three trains to reach Dhanbad in the hot summer of 1957. And as chance would have it, within three months of reaching Dhanbad he was almost a kilometre below ground digging coal in Bagdih.

All that Nana ever wanted was happiness and safety for his family. He had left Lahore and then his home in Punjab to come to Bagdih to give his daughters a protected, safe, and happy life. Upon his arrival in Dhanbad, he had rented a house beyond his means so that his family could live a comfortable life. To pay the high rent, he worked double shift in the initial years. And if the second shift was not available, he worked as a labour carrying weight in the godown of a local trader. But despite the tiring stretched working hours, his daughters never heard him complain or saw him frown. Nana always believed that how his daughters saw him had a direct bearing on their character and happiness. He always bought his daughters new dresses before festivals and birthdays but himself kept repeating the only three that he owned.

Running a coal mine was not an easy task. On one side were managers and officers who were completely aligned to the interests of the owners with the selfish motive of enhancing their salaries and perks, and on the other were mushrooming union leaders who in their quest to get noticed and picked by political parties were posturing as the sole advocates of labourers who worked in unsafe conditions and lived in inhuman environment. The conflict between the two often led to a halt in production, and thereby a loss in revenue and profit. While the officers and managers came from all over the country, the labourers largely comprised of people from Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh—areas that were infamous for very strong divisions around caste lines. Amidst this, in this cauldron of vested interests, political ambitions and caste affiliations, Nana stood out.

Nana wouldn’t let the self-centred interests of others take away what he was so assiduously trying to build for his family. A halt in production meant loss of wage for him. So, whenever there was a lockdown or a strike in Bagdih mines, Nana was in the forefront to resolve issues so that work could resume. His voice was always the one of reason. And coming from a man who did not have any known political aspirations or association, and being a Sikh of no identifiable caste, it always sounded sincere, carried heft, and produced the necessary effect. Nana and his frequent efforts at solving issues and disputes were noticed by the owner. And in no time, in him the owner found a reliable ally. Nana was soon promoted as a supervisor, no mean achievement. In an environment where jealousy and heartburn at the success of others were quite common, Nana was carried on the shoulders of his fellow workers in jubilation after the news of his elevation, and the group whose number kept increasing went around the mines five or more times completely euphoric. Such was the respect he had earned. With time he became the bridge between Bagdih and the owner, and it was no secret that the owner trusted him more than his managers and officers.

Some of Balli’s best moments during his childhood were listening to stories of Nana’s deep association with Bagdih told lucidly by his mother and his loving Masi—numerous instances of Nana bailing out either the owner or a hapless worker with his compassion, wit and on-the-feet thinking, and tales of how he was held in awe and respect by almost everyone there including the rich and powerful owner. How once when Nana had gone to visit the Golden Temple, the union had called for strike after an accident, and when the strike got prolonged with both parties not moving an inch from their stand, a man was sent to Punjab to bring back Nana to mediate. And within a day of Nana coming back, men were back at work. During his final years of employment in Bagdih colliery, Nana was invited to hoist the national flag on Independence Day against the usual norm of the Head hoisting the flag. Nana was the only person of non-officer rank whose family was invited to some events in the Bagdih Officers’ Club. Whenever Nana came to Balli’s house, a horde of visitors came to greet him, and invariably everyone touched his feet or hugged him with warmth. No wonder then that young Balli always felt that if anyone had any claim on Bagdih, it was he. And this pride, the knowledge that he had a special bond with the place, a connection deeper than that of any other kid, older or younger, was reflected in the swagger with which he roamed around in the officers’ colony and outside.

Nana married his youngest daughter, extremely beautiful and graceful, to a young lad from Hoshiarpur and got him a job in Bagdih mines. Balli’s father joined as a senior fitter and with hard work and dedication quickly rose to the level of a foreman. With industrial expansion, the government needed a greater say in production and movement of coal, which was not possible by negotiating with a multitude of owners. The deteriorating safety standards was an increasing concern that could potentially become a political and electoral issue. In 1971-72, Mrs Indira Gandhi, riding on huge popularity with a resounding electoral win and a decisive war against Pakistan, decided to nationalise coal mines. In the first phase of nationalisation in May 1972 the coking coal mines in Dhanbad were brought under the newly formed government entity, Bharat Coking Coal Limited (BCCL). Bagdih mines became a part of BCCL. In August 1971, anticipating nationalisation and resigned to losing ownership, the owner of Bagdih mines promoted Balli’s father to the level of a junior officer as a goodwill gesture and payback to Nana for all the help he had received. One year and nine months old Balli moved to the officers’ colony a month from then, a place that became more than a home to him.

Balli’s family was welcomed by all in the officers’ colony and quickly integrated with the rest. Balli’s father was known to be a very hard-working person, who played his sports, rarely indulged in inane and idle talk, and kept to himself. Balli’s mother was warm and very helpful. And an extremely good cook. If there was a party in anyone’s house, she was always requested for help, and she happily obliged. If there was an event in the club, she was at the forefront decorating the place and making necessary arrangements. If any child fell sick, she was there with the mother putting wet cloth on the child’s forehead. Everyone loved Balli’s mother. And on the new year eve party in the club, every man secretly wished for a chance to dance with her.

The nationalisation of coal mines and the formation of BCCL brought in a lot of changes. The first step was to set up a central office that could oversee the functioning of all mines and ensure proper co-ordination between them. The Union Government had promised better safety standards, healthcare facilities and living conditions to mining employees. The labourers were overworked, and coupled with the need for higher production, each mine needed more miners and staff. Most of the bungalows in which the officers lived and the quarters for supervisory staff had been constructed by the British owners. The rest of the staff and labourers managed with makeshift arrangements. Each mine had a small dispensary, which was not at all equipped with enough manpower and medicine to take care of the growing population. To meet the housing and healthcare needs, BCCL began constructing more houses and hospitals in each mine location. There were people getting transferred from mines to the central office and from one mine to the other all the time.

Balli was known to adjust and adapt to changes well. And he had proved this time and again. A person with sweet tooth, he loved his desserts not only after a good lunch and dinner but also between meals. A good halwa made from gajar (carrot), suji (semolina), or besan (gram flour) was his favourite, and aware of his preference his mother always had it ready for him. The wives of the officers of Bagdih had formed a Ladies’ Club which met once a month in a member’s house for kitty party. In each kitty party the members contributed an amount that was decided in the beginning of the term. The total amount was handed over to the host, whose responsibility was to provide the snacks and tea. Often, this amount was used by ladies to buy a good of value. At the end of the kitty party, the name of the next host was decided through a draw amongst the remaining members. Balli’s mother bought an electric baking oven, an item of luxury, with the money she received during her turn of kitty party. And when the first cake was baked and handed over to Balli instead of his favourite halwa, he didn’t take long to develop taste for those alien soft pieces. So nicely did he adapt to the new dessert that he now demanded cake instead of halwa. But it was not very easy to bake a cake. One needed four to six eggs, and eggs were only available in the market area which was 3 kilometres from the officers’ colony. In such cases when cake couldn’t be baked, he gladly had his halwa.

Balli and his two elder brothers loved their chicken and mutton curry and were no fans of fish. In fact, the kids always revolted at the slightest suggestion of fish curry being cooked at home. But whenever Balli accompanied his mother to her Bengali friend’s house and if they were offered fish fried in pungent mustard oil or cooked with curry, he had those pieces as if he loved them more than any succulent piece of chicken or mutton.

So, to say that Balli was averse to any idea of change would be grossly wrong. But the enormity of changes happening around was too much for even a person like him.

By the autumn of 1974, most of the kids Balli used to play with had moved out of the officers’ colony. Their fathers were either transferred to the central office of BCCL or some other mine depending on their seniority and qualification.

The officers’ colony that was a cluster of a few bungalows without any boundary was being expanded as more people were transferred to Bagdih. A part of the adjoining jungle was cleaned up, trees cut, and shrubs uprooted, to create space for additional houses. Bagdih, who had loved her serenity, and five decades earlier was mostly green before coal mining began, was ruefully witnessing the felling of trees and uprooting of shrubs that she had so lovingly nursed for years. A part of her was being taken away in the name of economic prosperity, and like earlier she had again opened herself to the wounds that were being inflicted.

To Balli’s annoyance, there was hectic construction activity everywhere in the colony hampering his evening games. Areas and fields that he usually played in were suddenly earmarked unsafe due to movement and storage of goods. A large boundary wall had been constructed around the colony. His dreams of swinging into the jungle by merely crossing the fence now had to wait for a few more years with the new boundary wall. Outside the officers’ colony, a hospital complex and houses for staff were being constructed. New colonies for staff members based on their job levels were being built. Suddenly, Balli’s peaceful Bagdih had become one noisy place. A place dirty with only coal dust till now had unexpectedly become dirtier.

A coal mine had two main departments: mining and engineering. A mine was always headed by a mining engineer, who was designated as Area Manager. The Area Manager of Bagdih mines had moved to the central office and in the interim the mine was assigned as an additional charge to the Area Manager of a neighbouring mine.

In a set-up that had many workers employed, an Area Manager was a king and lived like one. The Area Manager of Bagdih lived in a large bungalow that had six bedrooms and two living rooms. Four of the six bedrooms had dressing rooms along with them that were of the size of a room of a modern-day apartment. There were two servant rooms with attached bath. The lawn and garden in the front were large enough to host a party for the entire colony. And the kitchen garden behind could grow vegetables to last months. There was a kennel for pet in the back. There was a dedicated sweeper to clean toilets and two gardeners to tend to the lawn and vegetable garden. When cars were rare, he had an official car for himself, which could be used liberally for personal work.

Balli returned home one evening after a tiring game of hide-and-seek to murmurs of a new Area Manager moving in. His mind preoccupied with unresolved issues that he still carried after a fight with his brothers the day before, he chose to ignore the discussion that his parents seemed so engrossed in. But the next evening everyone that he came across, aunties and kids, were only talking about this and it became difficult for him to disregard the annoying chatter. The new Area Manager was a young man in his mid-thirties with a beautiful wife. Originally from Lucknow, he had completed his mining engineering from Indian School of Mines and was known to be the blue-eyed boy of the current Chairman. He was being brought in to ramp up the production of coal, which had come down drastically after the government had taken over the mine. Though no one had met him or his family, everyone seemed to be aware of all the details about them. In this overload of information what stuck with Balli was that Mr Mathur had two kids—Samar, a four-and-a-half-year-old son, same age as Balli, and a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Samaira.

Mathur family came to a bungalow that was freshly painted and a colony where almost all the residents had come out to welcome them. It was customary to invite a new resident for lunch or dinner, especially till the goods were unpacked and the house and kitchen set up. Normally the invitation came only from immediate neighbours and those from the same department. But in this case, the entire colony had gathered to request Mr Mathur’s family for a meal, and to Balli’s surprise his parents too were not untouched by this frenzy.

Balli had accompanied his parents that Sunday not to welcome Mathur family but to evaluate if Samar and Samaira could potentially be good friends. He had two categories of friends—one that he played with, which was a large group, and the other whose home he