GOLDEN SUMMERS

By S CHANDRA

An autobiographical narrative by a common woman of India who grew up as an Indian to be proud of being a global citizen. The caption of the book: Golden Summers stands for the myriad of experiences that the author has had over the years from childhood to adulthood. I

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Apr 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9789362618252

Book preview

1

ENRAPTURED

[1957-1964]

Introduction

Childhood is the best part of one’slife. So was my childhood. I had indeed a carefree childhood, untroubled, blithe with no worries. I was not very communicative but I happened to be a keen observer and lived in my own world of imagination and fantasies. I was enraptured with nature, trees, birds, insects, animals and mannerisms of people. I would often talk to myself, to the characters ofstories that I had read, to the shadows, birds and bees.

As any other child I loved the colours and drawings in the illustrated story books that my parents had provided me with. I would talk to the imaginary animated characters of the storybook; be it the rocking horse, the doll, a broken tea-pot, the baby elephant, the plum tree, Titu and Bitu and many more. I would also mentally rehearse catchy phrases andsentences uttered by the people around me and I often stealthily tried to mimic them. But to the chagrin of my parents I would never speak out especially when strangers and new faces visited the family. Many a time I was spanked by my exasperated mother, just for the fact that I never responded, spoke very few words and I was so dumb. I was lucky that my father had never raised his hands on me; he understood me better than my mother and would always equip me with colourful books and playthings that would keep me engaged and engrossed.

The first seven years of my childhood that I recall in this chapter are reflections from three places in India; two steel townships viz. Jamshedpur/Tatanagar located in the erstwhile state of Bihar; Rourkela located in the state of Orissa and my paternal ancestral native village named Gadi Bero in the District of Purulia located in West Bengal.

I also learned that my mother tongue happened to be Tamizh (Tamil) that majority of my maternal relatives preferred to speak in. My father and his kith & kin would communicate in the Manbhumia dialect of Bangla (Bengali). Although they hailed from Tamizh-Nadu, they had mastered this language of eastern India, by virtue of migration and permanent settlement in this hamlet, quite a few generations ago when rajahs (kings) and zamindars (landlords) prevailed in the country.

As any child picks up the language spoken by people in the surroundings; schooling helped me to learn English as the first language, Hindi as the second language and Odiya as the third language. Further, the listening environment helped me to understand and use the Bihari version of Hindi and quite a bit of Sanskrit. Thus, I gradually started speaking with ease in English, Hindi and Tamizh and with a little hesitation in Bangla, Odiya and Malayalam. However, I am still not clear and I often wonder about the language that I spontaneously think and express the best? Therefore, I have used quite many words in different languages in the italicized format in my narrative.

At this point I recall two quotes that highlight the importance of mastering two or more languages viz. "One language sets you in a corridor for life. Two languages open every door along the way."–Frank Smith "The limits of my language mean the limits of my world."–Ludwig Wittgenstein.

Jamshedpur/Tatanagar : My Childhood

I was born an hour before midnight, as the first girl child to my parents on the 29th day of January 1957; Tuesday at TMH-Tata Main Hospital, located at Jamshedpur/Tatanagar. There is a saying in Hindi that ‘one is firmly attached to the soil and region wherein your severed umbilical cord is buried’. True to this saying, I am mentally quite attached to my birthplace, although I have not lived there for quite long. My maternal grandparents (naana-naani//thaatha-paati) lived in a residence provided by the Tata Iron and Steel Company. Though I do not remember much of the happenings until I was five years old; the memories in this small house at No. 9, Bina Road of the Burma Mines locality of the Steel Township are still as fresh as the morning dew and the daisy.

Tata Iron and Steel Company (TISCO) was founded by Jamshedji Tata and established by Dorabji Tata on the 26th of August 1907. TISCO started pig-iron production in 1911 and began producing steel in 1912 as a branch of Jamshetji’s Tata Group. The first steel ingot was manufactured on 16th February 1912. During the First World War (1914-1918), the company made rapid progress. By1939, it operated as the largest steel plant in the British Empire.

Maternal grandparents [Nanaji/Thatha and Naniji/Paati]

My grandfather (naana) Shri Ramaratnam Iyengar, was an employee of TISCO. He worked as an electrical foreman. He hailed from a village named Vembanoor, Manapparam tehsil of Trichnapalli district of Tamil Nadu. He joined the Tata Iron and Steel Company much before the Independence of India. I am not sure about what were his educational qualifications because it never bothered me then or later, however I now wish that I were more open with him and had known much more directly from him, rather than from my perspective.

He had an impressive personality. He was a well-read and a self-made man. He was a strict disciplinarian and took a great pride in being an employee of TISCO.

Thatha would never fail in adorning his forehead with a trident – the mark of Vishnu knownas‘thiru-naamam’. Soon after his morning bath, my thatha would sit cross-legged on a mat on the floor, and get ready with the ceremony of drawing the ‘naamam’ on his forehead, all by himself. He would draw out an oblong white, chalk-like solid clay from a small wooden box called as ‘thirumanpetti’. This box was not bigger than an adult’s palm. It had two slots that would contain the thick oblong solid white clay called ‘shrichoornam’ and a small quantity of the red kumkumam. Between these slots was another thin slot which would hold a silver /wooden 5inch stick like device. He would make a small quantity of white clay paste on his left palm. Using thispaste he would skilfully mark on his fore-head a large U with the silver stick. The base of the U would touch the inner corners of the eyebrows. This would be followed by marking the central vertical line with vermillion (kumkumam) paste between the arms of the white-coloured U making a perfect trident on the head. Thatha would chant aloud the mantras and shlokas in Sanskrit as he performed the morning pooja; this is how I imbibed the art of chanting quite a few Shlokas in my early childhood.

Grandmother (paati),draped in her nine-yard length of saree, would meanwhile have plucked flowers of different kinds and colours along with the leaves of sacred basil (tulsi) and the Doorva or the Indian doobgrass from the garden in front of the house and kept them in a flower basket near the pooja altar. She would also have lit the silver or brass oil-lamp at the altar. I would keenly observe my grandfather chanting mantras and sorting the flowers. He would patiently offer each picture frame, lithographs of different Indian gods and goddesses with flowers of specific colours.

In this process I learnt that the white and yellow flowers were offered to Ganesha and Saraswati; purple and blue flowers to Shiva, white flowers to Vishnu and the red flowers to Durga, Lakshmi and Kaali. Thatha would be very elaborate with his daily rituals of pooja. As he recited 108 names of deities, he would offer rose petals. This ritual was termed as archanai in Tamizh.Thatha would be very elaborate with the rituals, chanting, lighting the incense sticks (agarbatti & dhoopam) and chiming the brass bell. In the mean time, grandmother would have prepared in the kitchen some sweet / kheer / paayasam that she would bring in a small quantity, in a vessel as an offering to the shaligrama. Thisoffering is commonly known as naivedyam / prasadam. The pooja would conclude with an aarathi wherein camphor would be ignited and the flame would be offered to all the deities.

I gradually learnt that Shaligrama refers to a fossilized shell used by quite a few Hindus as an iconic symbol and reminder of the God Vishnu as the Universal Principle. Shaligramas are usually collected from river-beds or banks such asthe Gandaki River in Nepal. I also learnt in this process that our family name / surname Iyengar was quite spoken of in southern India as Vaishnavites with Lord Vishnu being their principal deity of worship.

Grandfather had a domineering figure and influence in the family. He was quite strict. Despite this, we as children would take some liberty with him at opportune moments. All the elders in the family would be quite scared and express that he was quite an eccentric. I believed that it was out of awe of his personality and because of his stentorian voice that people were scared to approach him. Later, as I grew up I realised that he had knowledge ofalmost every trade. His room had lots of books stacked in shelves and cupboards known as alamaris in Tamizh. He loved reading and sharing his knowledge with whomsoever he would come across. I still have a distinct memory of him so engrossed in reading that he would prefer to have his dinner hours later after being served, only after having finished his quota of reading.

Despite the fact that grandfather worked in shifts, he kept an excellent pace with his reading habits. It seemed to us that he literally devoured the daily newspaper, magazines and books. He would cycle down to the TISCO factory-his workplace. His shift timings would change every fortnight. During the A shift, his work timings would be from 6:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. The B shift operated from 2:00p.m. to 10:00p.m. and during the C shift also known as the night shift the work hours were from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. We could hear the company siren blowing aloud to indicate the start and completion / transition of shifts. I distinctly remember mygrandfather clad in hiswork overalls, wearing the ankle clips such that the lowest loose partof the inseams of the trousers were held tight during cycling. His bicycle had a flashlight which was very useful especially when he had to commute from and to his workplace during nights. He would also religiously carry with him an umbrella and the lunch-carrier packed by my grandmother.

Maternal great-grandfather: [Par-naana / Kollu Thatha]

Soon after my grandfather was recruited and appointed in TISCO, he was allotted a resident by the Company. It was then that my great-grandfather (my naana’s father) shifted lock, stock and barrel from Vembanoor to Jamshedpur. All the family members’ viz. two of my granduncles, my grandmother, three grandsons and three grand-daughters accompanied him. Those were the times when families were large and lived together; in comparison to the gradual evolution of nuclear families. It took them more than forty-eight hours for them to travel from Trichy Junction to Jamshedpur in a steam engine harnessed train.

It is amazing to know that quite a lot of people from provinces located in all the eight cardinal directions and the central province of India moved to Tatanagar, as TISCO was founded and developed. Both Industrial Railways and passenger railways were well developed till 1893 and thereby the railways harnessed by steam engines played an important role in facilitating this movement and settling down at Jamshedpur.

My Kollu-Thatha / great-grandfather Shri Rajagopala Iyengar had an awe-inspiring and tall persona. He was popularly known by his profession and had earned the title / upaadhi of, Jyotisha Ratnakara. He was an exponent of astrology, Vedicscience and ayurveda. He also had an indigenous knowledge of farming. I remember him as an early riser. He was always clad in panchakaccham / dhoti, jibba and angavastram.During winters he would put on a black coat adorned all the medals bestowed upon him as an honour. He would also sport a white turban very similar to that worn by Dr. C.V.Raman and Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan.

Kollu-Thatha also was very particular about adorning his forehead with the mark of Vishnu / the thirunaamam. The yester-year black and white photograph that I would often come across in the family album is a testimony to this description of his personality. He was very fond of filtered coffee popular as filter kaapi in Tamizh. His daughters-in-law (grandma and grand aunt) would equip him with a large quantity of hot coffee in a brass container (sombu / chombu), early in the morning. They knew the right blend of decoction of filtered coffee, sugar and fresh cow’s milk well brewed at the right temperature that would satisfy my greatgrandfather’s tastebuds. Any little deviation would be sufficient to irk him and trigger his anger.

Talking about fresh cow’s milk; there was a cowshed in the backyard of the house, adjacent to the common compound wall between the two neighbouring houses. Majority of the residents in our row preferred to have milking cows and buffaloes. The cows in my grandfather’s house had names viz. Ganga, Lakshmi, Gouri, Parvati, Dhenu etc. They would respond to their names by shaking their heads and sometimes by mooing aloud. There were one or two calves as well. I enjoyed playing with them. In addition to the cement-floored cowshed with a tin-sheeted roof, there was a well-covered area which served as a barn. There would be a large quantity of hay stacked along with gunny-bags filled with grains and pulses. There was also a circular iron-wheel with blades and a handle mounted on a pedestal grouted to the cemented floor. Initially I had no idea what was its purpose and I loved mounting, climbing and dangling on it. Later, I discovered that this was the fodder cutting machine. It served the purpose of cutting grass and hay.

Gopi-a tribal lad clad in dhoti-kurta, would regularly come in to tend the animals, which included feeding, bathing milking and helping them to graze in the open fields at the right hour. I loved to watch the cows being bathed and groomed well. Each cow had an allotted place and each one would be tied to a small iron peg-pole grouted to the cemented floor of the cow-shed. There were cemented tub like troughs from which the animals would feed.

My grandmother and the other ladies of the house would offer a banana to the cows and apply turmeric powder and kumkum on the forehead of the cows soon after they were bathed. An elderly maid would collect the cow-dung and make cakes on the outer wall on both sides of the backyard exit door. These dried cow-dung cakes served as fuel for the large hearth like oven made of baked mud also known as chulha in the open well ventilated kitchen area adjacent to the barn.

After Gopi had completed his chores, he would have tea along with rotis- the Indian bread. Later, by 10:30 a.m. he would unfasten the cows from their pegs and would lead them out through the backyard door to the nearby grazing areas. The animals longed for this moment. They would rush out one after the other. It was lovely to hear the sound of their bells and the clippetty-clop sounds of their hooves as they moved out. They would be brought back home by 4:00p.m. Gopi would fasten them to their pegs, milk them, feed them and move homewards well before dusk.

There was no doubt that thatha had probably acquired the spirit of quest for knowledge, majority of his traits including reading habits and skills of communication from kollu-thatha, and when they argued, many a time it would appear to us as a verbal duel.

As a six year old child, I always looked forward to a short distance pillion ride on my mama’s (maternal uncle) bicycle. I enjoyed the breeze on my face as the cycle ride picked up momentum. One evening, as I was enjoying the bicycle ride, I suddenly found my right ankle in the rear wheel breaking the spokes and two spokes penetrated into the flesh above my ankle. My maama was not aware of this as he pedalled onward. It was when I wailed aloud that he tried to look behind and lost his balance. Both of us fell on the cemented road; however my right ankle remained entangled in the rear end wheel. Luckily, we were not far from home. Passers-by managed to shove away my right ankle from the criss-cross running spokes of the wheel. It was very painful. They lifted me up and rushed me home as I cried aloud. My uncle towed his bicycle behind the crowd. The commotion at the gate of my grandparents’ house forced a few family members to rush out to the gate.

Kollu thatha took charge. He asked the crowd to move away. He laid me on the wooden bench in the sit-out area of the house. He carefully pulled out the two spokes. The wound started bleeding profusely. He grabbed a newspaper, folded it and put it under my heel. He asked my mother to quickly delve in from his cupboard and fetch the first-aid box, along with a piece of white cotton cloth and the spirit-lamp. Amma was taken aback and was somewhat hesitant, as kollu-thatha would never allow anybody to touch his cupboard. Further she kept repeating that isn’t it better to take me to the nearest health centre? Kollu-thatha asked her in an authoritative voice to follow his instructions. He asked me to stop crying and made me sit up.

As I sat up and put my legs down, he spread the folded newspaper under my feet. His wooden first-aid box was quite different from the modern first-aid boxes. It had small pieces of soft muslin cloth, swabs of cotton, antiseptic Dettol, a bottle of ghee, a bottle of fine turmericpowder, a bottle of kumkum, a surgical knife, a pair of scissors, a spatula and a silver spoon.

He lit the spirit lamp. He took the cotton cloth and tore it into very thin strips. He wiped the wound with the cotton soaked in Dettol. I was tempted to scream however I dared not as kolluthatha’s gaze was quite intimidating. As he examined the depth of the wound he muttered somethingtohimself. He smeared the cloth strips with heated ghee, turmeric and kumkum and ran them over the flame of the spirit-lamp. He then gradually pushed the edge of the cloth strip into the depth of the wound. He asked me to clench my teeth if it hurt or pained me. Thus he managed to stuff the ‘medicated cloth strip’ into my wound. He used another fresh cloth strip and bandaged thewound. He asked me to go in and I managed to limp and get in.

He ordered my amma to serve me a glass of hot milk with turmeric after dinner. That was the first time when I had milk with turmeric though I detested its taste. The wound healed up gradually in a week’s time; kollu-thatha every alternate day dressed up the wound in the same way. I had to gulp down the glass of milk and turmeric almost every night for a week. The rupee coin sized scar on my right ankle felt tender for quite sometime. But it healed up. From that time onwards I developed a strong faith in mygreat-grandfather and came to understand that he was not only knowledgeable but skilful as well.

Maternal grandmother [naani // paatti]

I do not know, as to why I have so few memories of my paatti (grandmother); Shrimati Jayalakshmi . I have a few black and white photographs of her, clicked by photographers as well as Amma. Probably she was from dawn to night busy discharging her responsibilities as she had to take care of a large family. As a child, I was probably not very close to the kitchen area; further I was more attracted to the garden, the cowshed, the illustrated books and members inside the rooms of the house.

I have distinct memories of walking behind Paatti as she would wake up well before daybreak, sprinkle water and clean up the space infront of the gate at the entrance of the house as well as the space behind the backyard gate. She would then make a beautiful floral design or a geometrical design by connecting dots or drawing intricately linked horizontal and vertical lines with finely pounded rice powder. This art is referred as Kolam in Tamizh. I would sit and watch her drawing beautiful intricate and elaborate designs. When I questioned her that why did she habitually engage herself in this act? She replied that the kolam warded off all the evil spirits and invited Lakshmi the Goddess of Wealth. Bydaybreak, the kolam would attract sparrows. The birds tweeted and chirped pecking at the rice powder designs. They never spoilt the kolam. It was a wonderful sight watching the flock of sparrows communicating with each other, sometimes fiercely competing as they relished their morning meal. In the later part of the day I would see ants and someties squirrels, visiting the area marked with the kolam, to have their share of meal. I would sometimes get annoyed with the squirrels as they would usetheir tongues and bushy tails and wipe off parts of the beautiful floral designs made by my Paatti.

I also remember my grandmother lighting the oil lamp (deepam) daily in the morningandevening, serving us breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whenever she would prepare some sweets viz. mysorepak, neiappam, or kesari; I would have the privilege of having the first share from her. She was a lady who worked effortlessly, all day long. She loved to cook and took charge of the kitchen while the other ladies at home would lend her a helping hand and be involved in the endless household chores. I watched Paati in the task of pre-soaking overnight grains, millets and pulses for the cow-feed. She would find time to water the plants. She also would find sometime to read weekly magazinesin Tamil.

She sang well especially the kirtanams by Saint Thyagaraja Swamy. She chanted the shlokas as she would cook and light the oil lamp. She also played the violin. I distinctly recall that whenever she would go out for small errands or to the market, there was a white and black dog that would follow her and return along with her. Dogs were not allowed inside the house; however my grandmother would make it a point to feed it, there was a special enamel plate for it which was kept in the garden area near the tap. She would generally feed the dog with rice and roti. The dog was very alert and protective; it would silently follow my aunt ( mother’s younger sister ) to the bus-stop and return after she had boarded the bus.

In 1961, paatti had been to Madras along with my uncle (maama) and aunt (chithi) to attend a wedding in the family. As she was away, my mother had taken charge of the household at Jamshedpur. It was then that we got the news of her death. She died because of the overgrowth and rupture of the appendix; which was earlier never diagnosed or reported. Unfortunately, I do not have further memories of her as I lost touch of her in the early part of my childhood.

Two days after her death; the dog which would be always around the house, was found lying lifeless in the garden under the neem tree. It had had a natural death. Gopi and his friends shifted its body and buried it in a suitable place and planted a lemon tree in its memory.

Maternal granduncle’s family: [Chittappa-Thatha]

Thatha’s younger brother; Mr. Santhanam Iyengar whom we addressed as chithappa-thaatha/ Appi was employed at Tinplate Company located at Golmuri area of Jamshedpur / Tatanagar. Tinplate or TCIL (The Tinplate Company of India Limited ) was associated with the production of tin coated and tin free steel sheets. It’s headquarters was located in Kolkata whereas the plant was located at the Golmuri area of Tatanagar. The company was incorporated in 1920. It presently has two dual processing line for ETP (Electrolytic Tinplate) or TFS (Tin-Free Steel) and a Cold Rolling Mill (CRM).

Initially my great-grandfather, grand-father, grand-uncle and their sons and daughters lived together at the TISCO Burma Mines residence. Thus, a large close-knit family with three generations lived together for quite sometime.

Lunch time or dinner was always a grand gala affair. All the15 to 20 of us would sit cross-legged on the well cleaned and mopped floor of dining space in the wide hall like corridor near the kitchen. The male members would sit cross- legged each on a rectangular wooden plank with a base (peedha / palaga) while others would sit in a row on long mats (durrie / jamakkalam).

Steel plates along with a tumbler of water would be set in front of each seated member. The senior ladies of the home (grandmother and grand-aunt) would serve the different courses of meals one by one on every plate. They were quite adept in this task. People did not have to wait much long. However, me and my cousins would get a little impatient as we would observe what dishes were being served on others’ plates.

On a special day viz. any auspicious occasion or festival the food would be served on plantain leaves / stitched leaf plates. There would be a lot of noise as elders would discuss about happenings, events and simultaneously appreciate or comment on the taste of the food being served.

Each one of us used his / her fingers and right palm for eating the meal. Lunch consisted of a main course of steaming hot cooked rice, a spoonful of home-made ghee, with dal or well garnished boiled vegetables (koottu) and a fried vegetables. The second course of meal was rice served with tamarind soup (rasam/ saatamudu ) along with potato chips or appalam / paapadam. If the tamarind soup was thick and cooked with pulses / dal and a few vegetables and garnished well it was termed as kuzhambu that is nowadays popular as saambar. The last course of rice would be had with home-made buttermilk or curd and pickles. During summers the meal would end with servings of ripe mango. The ripe mangoes would be cut vertically into three parts; two fleshy parts with its rind and a central part with seed and pulp. I would generally long for the fleshy mesocarp with the seed as I relished sucking the part till the seed was totally ripped off its fleshy mesocarp.

Dinner on the other hand consisted of the circular Indian bread or roti with a spicy vegetable with gravy, dal and a bowl of curd. After having had the meal each one of us would get up along with our empty plates and rinse them well with water from a tap in the utility area in the backyard. Grandmother and grand-aunt would have their meals only after the entire family had finished consuming lunch/ dinner.

A few years later, grand-uncle (chithappa-thatha ) was allotted a residence by the Tinplate Company; therefore my grand-uncle, grand-aunt (chithi-paati) and their sons and daughters shifted to the residence at No. 6, Jamuna Road at Golmuri. Mygrandfather’s residence at Burma Mines was a little far off from my grand-uncle’s residence. One had to come down by the available bus service; although my grandfather commuted by his bicycle whenever he visited.

I do not recall having permanently stayed at one place. This was because my father (appa) was employed as a draughtsman engineer with the Kaiser’s (an American Company) at Jamshedpur. He was a Civil Engineer by profession. Thereby he lived with us (amma and me) in a rented house at Sakchi which was mid-way between the residences at Burma Mines and Golmuri. Amma was an enterprising lady. I felt that she knew every road, market, nook and corner of Jamshedpur. Since my father had no fixed hours of return from his work place, my mother would prefer to visit grand-mother or grand-aunt often and thereby I would always accompany her. Thus I towed along with her from Sakchi to either Burma Mines or Golmuri gathering quite many strands of memorable moments of my childhood.

Gadi-Bero: My native village

My father, Shri S. Srinivas Acharya; his younger brother Shri. S. Rangachari , and all his cousins had the privilege of being born in Gadi Bero. They were educated during the pre-independence period, in the local school of their village named Gadi Bero located in the erstwhile Province of Bihar. After independence, the Provinces were further reoriented and divided into States. Thus, the village got its place, in the District of Purulia, in the State of West Bengal. The village railway station is located between a few stations of Adra and Asansol.

Gadi Bero for me, was synonymous to my paternal grandfather, whom we fondly addressed as Bero-thatha. The village has had a history, which I learnt from Bero-thatha and strand by strand from my father and elders in the village. Here is an account on my native village. There is an indelible imprint of the Bero Railway Station which I had seen as a child. Till date, this railway station caters to the inhabitants of Bero and the neighbouring villages in and around Adra and Purulia district in the Indian state of West Bengal.

The Bengal-Nagpur Railway was formed in 1887 for the purpose of upgrading the Nagpur Madhya Pradesh Railway and then extending it via Bilaspur to Asansol, in order to develop a shorter Howrah-Mumbai route than the one via Allahabad. The Bengal Nagpur Railway mainline from Nagpur to Asansol, on the Howrah-Delhi mainline, was opened for goods traffic on1st February1891.

The village railway station: a fascinating location

As a child, I loved to travel by train, especially with my parents. I am not sure of how many trips did I make or when did I make … but it was always fun when we made short trips to Gadi Bero by train from Tatanagar Railway Station. During the latter part of my childhood, I recall travelling from Rourkela Railway Station to Tatanagar by the Mumbai-Howrah Express popularly referred to as the 30 UP. After de-training at Tatanagar Railway Station we would move to Gadi Bero by the Hatia-Asansol Passenger.

Although the travel time was quite long and the train was quite slow, stopping invariably at every station; as a child I looked forward to this train journey. I have vivid memories of briskly jumping down at the Gadi Bero railway platform, as the train halted there only for a couple of minutes. This station was very different from the busy junctions.

The countryside beauty captivated my attention and senses. There was silence, calmness and serenity in the surroundings full of tall trees with their branches and leaves swaying in the breeze and green pastures guarded by hills on both the sides of the railway station. The sight of the station and the train puffing out of the station after a countable number of passengers had detrained would always mesmerise me. The station master enthusiastically flagging off the train, the clang of the bells along with the movement of a couple of vendors across the tracks, the chirping birds, the butterflies and bees in the pastures enthralled me. A couple of people who would have had meanwhile recognised my father would hail aloud in Bangla welcoming him and each one of us. I do not recall of an over bridge connecting the two platforms. Thereby we would cross the tracks after the train had left the station.

My paternal grandfather; Shri Seshadri Acharya would have sent for the cart drawn by bullocks. The bullock-cart ride was very fascinating. The person in-charge of the cart would greet us and talk to us in Manbhumia the popular dialect of Bangla spoken by the natives of the place. This dialect was different from the Bengali spoken by people at Jamshedpur or Calcutta.

After having mounted the cart with our baggage and belongings, it was an enjoyable 45 minute ride to my grandfather’s place in the village. The ride was never smooth owing to the uneven contour of the muddy roads, yet I enjoyed the ride. My father would prefer to walk down along with one or two village folks enquiring about the people of the village and talking about everything that they thought was worth discussing on this earth. On the way I would get amused seeing village folks; men, women and children as they would in turn watch us on the moving cart with amusement.

Monkeys especially langurs were a common sight. There was a large mangrove called as Aambagaan, which was a landmark halfway to thatha’s residence. People who inhabited the outskirts of the village were not very affluent. They were generally Santhalis (descendants of a tribe of the region) Bauris and a few Muslims. They had mud houses with thatched roofs. Some of them had a buffalo / a cow or two, poultry birds, goats and pigs.

In the heart of the village, located on a stony hilly region, dwelled the affluent class of people; thirty to forty families of the Iyengar community and