The Water of the River Deo

By Subhrasankar Das Padmasree Mazumdar

"'THE WATER OF THE RIVER DEO' by PADMASREE MAZUMDAR is a

magnificent account of the lives of Sylheti people living in North Tripura. The

reconstruction of their livelihood, their inclination to their culture and heritage,

their festivals and folklore, their desire, delight and agony, the effect of emigration

and urbanizat

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9789360491352

Book preview

Chapter 1

"If there is a downpour at the end of Magha,

Blessed is the virtuous land of the righteous king."

T

he denizens of this region, endowed with the river Deo, still count on the maxims of Khona, the enlightened Bengali poetess who is held in high regard for her wondrous expertise in astrology and fortune-telling. The river surges ahead, cleaving the breast of this sweet suburbia. 

The folklores of Deo and the myths of Longai and Monu are immensely popular among the people of the Halam community of Tripura. 

Once upon a time, Deo and Longai were boys and Monu was a girl. They hailed from three different families and there was not much age difference between them. They grew up together and Monu emerged to be an attractive lady with elfin lustre. So, Deo and Longai pulled out all the stops to woo her. And, Monu too was falling for the amorous exuberance of her suitors. Their sensuous adventures gradually drew the attention of the autochthons. 

Monu's father, a mighty exorcist was enraged by the rumour looming out from different corners of his neighbourhood like the tentacles of an octopus. He sent a marriage proposal to the father of Dholai. Undoubtedly, Dholai, the brawny and handsome lad, the scion of an illustrious clan was a suitable match for Monu. Fortunately or unfortunately, the proffer was accepted, and the guardians of both families geared up for the desired occasion. 

Knowing that, the winsome and woebegone Monu urged her beloveds to do something tout de suite as her father had made all arrangements for her wedding! She looked at them with beseeching eyes.

Failing to map out any plan to escape this impending catastrophe, Deo and Longai stared at each other.

There is only one way...Let's elope and get married, said Manu brusquely.

Deo retorted, How is this possible? A woman should not be the wife of two men.

Monu replied, I can't choose one between you two. Either I'll marry both of you or I’ll end my life! 

Longai was known to be a devout soul. He also couldn't find a way out despite uttering the names of gods incessantly. In this pathetic three-cornered love story, none of the lads could imagine his life without the presence of his darling. 

Finally, Monu exclaimed, "If I renounce any one of you, my compunction will continue to perish me until hell freezes over! 

There is a better option: Following the first crowing of the rooster, let us get ready for a special journey tomorrow. When the rooster crows for the second time, we shall set off towards the West. Between you two, whoever will come across me first, will be my husband. And we shall get married at that particular point of meeting."

Deo and Longai acceded to this simple but queer proposal since actually they had no better alternative. Their brains were on the blink.

The night was losing her maidenhood but none of the three souls was tranquil enough to have a slumber. They couldn’t even take a siesta. They were waiting with bated breath for the wake-up call from the rooster so that they could set out on time to win the game of luck. Thus, being half-asleep and half-awake they somehow spent the night and regained their consciousness, hearing the harsh crowing of the rooster. 

Cleaning her face with water, Manu got ready to desert her paternal abode. Accumulating whatever she could, Monu streaked off down the trails stealthily following the second call of the rooster. 

According to the plan, Deo too headed westward leaving his home.

Longai didn't have the habit of doing things in haste. Leaving his bed, like any other day, he cantillated some sacred verses ardently. Hearing the second siren, he grabbed his valise and marched towards the West.

By the grace of God, after a while, Monu and Deo came across each other and got married. Monu was contented. No lump of repentance was lurking in her mind. Since then, merging into each other, Monu and Deo have been flowing together as if individual identities are sacrificed for the sake of love and unification.

Chapter 2

T

he residents on both sides of the river Deo are the descendants of the Sylheti People (of Bangladesh). Even in these days of globalization, the people of this area celebrate the meeting of Magha (a month in the Bengali calendar) and megha (cloud) with ululation. Thus, with their heart and soul, they try to cling on to their uprooted culture and tradition. 

The barbed wire deprived them of their ancestral homes but couldn't annihilate their cultural legacy. Leaving their lands and possessions, thousands of people emigrated from East Bengal (Bangladesh) to India to protect their lives. They thanked God time and again as they reached here safely with their dear ones but many of them had to detach themselves from their kith and kin.

The undivided northern part of Tripura was not far away from Sylhet district (of Bangladesh). That's why Sylheti refugees chose this part of Tripura and started the second innings of their lives here. The poor and grief-stricken folks resumed their struggle for survival. They started farming and fishing, constructed houses and discovered the smell of a peaceful prelude in the soil of their new land. 

During the 'partition of Bengal’ (1947) and 'the Bangladesh liberation war' (1971), many Bangladeshi refugees took shelter here, leaving their hard-earned possessions behind. The river harnessed them on her lap as her children. She has been the silent witness to the deconstruction and reconstruction of their lives. 

Sylheti blood runs through their veins.

From the other side of the barbed wire, they brought the culture and heritage flavoured with the aroma of Sylheti soil.

They have been cultivating their shredded heritage on the loving lap of the river Deo. The mass ululation reverberates in the houses on both sides of the river during the thirteen festivals in twelve months.

The crowns of the hazy river waves swing along with the echoes of ululation. Deo hears everything and stretches his heart to bear everything. 

Deo carries this sacred symphony of gaiety and celebration to their ancestral homesteads.

From every molecule of water, Deo mutely instils the shrill yet sonorous ululation into the heart of Monu. And, as a messenger, she quietly carries it and transports it to the other side of the border. 

Although the village council has been upgraded to a city council and later to a municipality as a result of administrative development, this city failed to shed off its rustic appearance. You will surely notice some plants of chilli or haricot in the courtyard or some gourds hanging on the roof or from a scaffold made of bamboo. These are the common traits of this township.  

The name of the suburb is Kumarghat.

How was the name coined and when? This is still a mystery and a matter of research and debate. 

But, according to the geriatrics, once upon a time, there was a market of potters on the banks of this river Deo. The potters used to exhibit various kinds of (earthen) kitchen utensils to allure the potent customers. Probably, this picture has inserted the images of  ‘potter’ (কুমোর/kumor) and ‘ghat’(ঘাট) into the minds of local people and subconsciously they amalgamated these two images and thus the ghat of potters became ‘Kumarghat’ (which was supposed to be ‘Kumorghat’!)

Chapter 3

A

n abrupt and untimely ululation startled Abanti. Is it an earthquake?! After a while, she comprehends that it's not an earthquake. It's nothing but the rendezvous of Megha(cloud) and Magha, the preface of a blissful shower.

Abanti goes out without wasting a minute. She must capture these poetic moments, the picturesque landscape, the river, the clouds, and whatnot. God knows why she chose this project! She hasn't yet finalized the title of this project. That's okay, it can be done later. At first, she should complete the project. She is carrying a handy cam. For now, this handy cam is serving her purpose. The droplets of rain have elevated the magnitude of cold. The lightning and the peal of thunder are severing the sky here and there.

This is how Nor'wester (Kaalboishakhi) kicks off.

This possibility of torrential rain brightens her mood. 

In the olden days (not so olden though!), such an atmosphere tempted her to call Aniruddha. Both of them would go for an outing just for the sake of spending some quality time together. Those days are obscure like some chapters in an old and dilapidated history book. 

In fact, How challenging it is for a girl to work on a project independently, or to spend some time with her favourite anthologies of stories or poems, or to enjoy a song in the lightless corner of the veranda is not groked by most of the people, especially, when she reprimands a husband material!

Her pals and the elders remark, How fool you are! How could you miss an opportunity to grab a boy like Aniruddha? 

 Aniruddha Dutta is a lawyer (MA. LLB). He is the only son of his parents. If any girl rejects this golden boy saying I shall live my life on my own terms, not as a doll in a showcase, her kith and kin are certainly not going to praise or worship her!

 People will never realize that Abanti just wants to remain Abanti. She doesn’t want to become a doll.

How can the dollies feel the joy of exploring life with liberty?!

But, even now, when the petulant clouds conceal the shapes of the predominant clouds before the lugubrious heaven bursts into tears, Abanti hidingly taps on her mobile screen to see Aniruddha's name. She constantly looks at the word 'Ani'. And sometimes she sobs quietly. Sometimes she smiles. But…what is she hiding and why?! She stays in her room in seclusion. In addition, what she does behind closed