Ch. 5 STORIES FROM THE PARA - THE FURTIVE WEDDING

The Furtive Wedding

Far away from the excited gathering before Chhutki`s “chandnatolla”, another pair of souls were being joined in eternal union. Unlike the large gathering of notables and para residents who had joined together to shower their blessings on Chhutki, there were only seven people present at the parallel event :

Major Ghosh Dastidar, V.S.M. (retd.)

- In his own drawing room, sat Major Ghosh Dastidar, V.S.M.(retd.) [1] The Major looked impeccable in his tweed jacket and regimental scarf, and held himself up straight as a ramrod in his Wing chair. He had brought forth his bottle of “Laphroaig” which he saved for special occasions and was into his third “chhota peg”.[2]

- Raja babu, the part-time purohit and the para`s devoted ghotok; his hands shaking with a mixture of fear and anxiety, he had set up an improvised “mandap”[3] at one end of the major`s drawing room, under the radio. Given the perilous circumstances, he had managed to cobble together a “mangal ghot”,[4] a copper plate with a small “shiva linga” and a handful of flowers.

- Jarnail Singh, the taxiwallah was in the verandah, keeping a sharp lookout for intruders.

- Chhutki`s mother`s “pisemosai”[5] had left the main wedding in the para briefly, to take part in the parallel one. He was a divisional manager of Western Railways, currently posted at Ratlam. [6]

The major looked at his watch as they all waited for the bride and groom to turn up. The strains of Nazrulgeeti[7] could be heard from the adjoining dining room where the major kept his “Murphy” record player. After what seemed to be ages, they heard the sound of shuffling footsteps in the hall leading to the backdoor, and Jarnail Singh`s taxiwallah brethren Avtar Singh and Pooran Singh escorted in Chhutki`s mother and her chhotomasi. They put down two suitcases on the veranda and and left as silently as they had come. Chhotomasi was dressed in a red sari, but showed no other signs of being the bride.

The bride arriving before the groom was only one among several things that was unusual with the wedding that was about to take place. When Deepak da came in a few minutes later, he was alone, with no “Bor Jatri”[8] to accompany him and no “Bor Boron”[9] to bid him welcome. The major sat impassively and sipped his drink. Raja babu looked busy with his “puja samagri”[10] and was muttering “mantras” under his breath. The whole thing was over in a couple of minutes. There was “maala badal”[11] and then Deepak da did the “sindoor daan”. The couple then touched the feet of the three elders in the room for their “aashirbaad”. [12]

Jairnail Singh.

With the voice of Purabi Dutta singing Nazrulgeeti still filtering out from the dining room, Jarnail Singh escorted them into his waiting taxi. He slammed the door shut and with Bahadur, the para`s “darwan”[13] beside him in the front seat, he sped off. Jarnail Singh was an expert at negotiating the Calcutta traffic, and he set course for Howrah Station via Rash Behari Avenue and Chowringhee, and crossed Howrah Bridge in record time.

 

And so it was that while Chhutki would end the evening with “bidayee”[14] surrounded by her family and well-wishers from the para, her aunt would be bedding down for her “kaal raatri” somewhere between Ranigunj and Asansol, in the Ladies Compartment of the Howrah-Bombay Mail, as it hurtled into the night. In the hectic hours leading up to Chhutki`s “bidayee”, nobody noticed anything amiss. Even Jarnail Singh and Bahadur made it back and tucked into the grand wedding feast in front of dozens of witnesses, who could have given them an alibi, should they be questioned.

On the next day with Chhutki safe at her in-laws`, a thorough search of the para had not turned up the slightest trace of her chhotomasi. I hoped that Deepak da and chhotomasi, on their second night aboard the Howrah-Bombay Mail, would have got the Ladies Compartment to themselves and would be preparing for their own “phool shojja.”[15]

Just like Chhutki in Belgachia!

 

THE END

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[1] Vishishit Seva Medal, given to members of India`s armed forces for "distinguished service of an exceptional order".
[2] A drink made with approximately two fingers of hard liquor.
[3] A dais or alter.
[4] A copper pitcher, filled with water and with mango leaves and a coconut placed atop it.
[5] Paternal uncle, by marriage.
[6] A divisional headquarters of Western Railways, one of the zones of Indian Railways.
[7] The poetry, set to music, of Kazi Nazrul Islam.
[8] The bridegoom`s party.
[9] The ritual in which the bridegroom and his party are bid welcome by the bride`s mother and family.
[10] The paraphernalia of ritual worship.
[11] A ritual exchange of garlands between the bride and the groom.
[12] The newly-married couple being blessed by their elders.
[13] Commons watchkeeper of the locality.
[14] The bride being bid farewell by her family as she departs for her new home.
[15] The newly weds are adorned with flowers and left to their conjugal bliss on a flower-decked bed.

Ch. 4 STORIES FROM THE PARA - CHHOTOMASI and I

Chhotomashi and I

                                                                                                                       

Chhotomashi (right).

      I  I first became entangled into what would later turn out to be a scandal when two years before Chhutki`s wedding, her chhotomasi[1] signaled to me through the  iron bars of the “janala” window as I was passing by. She wanted me to run an errand. She had packed some “mouli”[2] in an aluminium box and whispered to me that I should take it to “Lalbarir dutolay”.  (“First floor of the Red House”). I began to protest, “I have to do my home-work”, “maa amaake bari phire jete bolechhey”. (“Mother has asked me to return home”). But she had a powerful incentive for me to do as I was being told: she threatened to tell my father that she had seen me sharing a “bidi” with Potol at Narkel`s[3] 'upanayan'.[4] I was immediately cooperative and promised to deliver the box and keep my mouth shut!

The person who lived on the first floor of 'Lalbari' was Deepak da, “Bobby” to his friends. He was a bachelor, had no known family and lived a seemingly islolated life. He was a purser with Indian Airlines and had the looks and build of an Adonis. His tight white shirt and slim black uniform tie only accentuated his bulging biceps and thick neck. I would watch him, when on some week-ends, he would be on his ”chhad”, [5] while I was up on mine, kite-flying. He would be exercising with his 'Bullworker', his body glistening with sweat in the early morning sun. In my eyes, he was a close match to the blond, improbably-muscled man who appeared on 'Bullworker' ads in 'Readers' Digest' magazine.

 
I would also see Deepak da running around the Lake, and playing cricket on the pitch outside Rabindra Sarovar stadium. But he was unlike the other dadas [6] in the para. First of all, he worked irregular shifts and when he was not working, he would keep mostly to himself. He would not hang around with the other dadas in the park. Most of all, he was different because he was invariably polite; his friendly behavior was in stark contrast to the other dadas with their foul mouths and volatile tempers.

 

We lived opposite “Lalbari” and I had known him for years. Whenever he passed me on the street, he would tousle my hair affectionately. He called me “Laurel”, because, I presume, I presented such a skinny picture to him. Sometimes he would give me sachets of wet towels; small, white, sealed sachets with the faint smell of eau de cologne and 'INDIAN AIRLINES' printed in orange on them. At other times, he would press a couple of 'Indian Airlines' toffees into my hand: “Eyi ne Laurel! Kau ke bolbi na” (“There you go, Laurel! Mind you don`t tell anyone”).  I would be thrilled at the implied conspiracy in the transaction, and bowled over by the attention I got from him! I would send up a silent prayer that I would become an Indian Airlines purser when I grew up, just like Deepak da.

Now that I come to think of it, perhaps it was not accidental that Chhutki`s chhotomasi picked me to deliver the container of “mouli” (of course, being curious, I opened the box and peeked before delivering it!).

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[1] Younger maternal aunt.

[2] Fish steamed in coconut milk and flavoured with mustard.

[3] Potol’s sibling. He had six male siblings, all elder to him: Tatai, Bubai, Bultu, Bappi, Jhontu and Narkel.

[4] The sacred thread ceremony at which a Brahmin boy is initiated into the scriptures.

[5] Rooftop terrace.

[6] Older, male residents of one’s para. Usually bachelors. Married older members were usually referred to as kaku, dadu etc. 

                                                                                                            II Chhutki`s maternal grandparents were very fecund and had continued to proliferate long after Chhutki`s mother had been married off. The result was that Chhutki had a number of masis[1]. Chhutki`s chhotomasi was married and her husband was a powerful bureaucrat posted in the Dooars [2] but he rarely visited his wife. There were some rumours in the para that Chhutki`s chhotomasi was unhappily married, that her husband was a cruel man with a violent temper, and that soon after their wedding the “unpleasantness” had begun. Whatever the truth, Chhutki`s chhotomasi lived with Chhutki`s family.

 
Over a period of time, I became a regular courier between Chhutki`s chhotomasi and Deepak da. I would deliver consignments of “bhaat”,[3] “chingri malai”,[4] “cutlet”, [5] “dimer jhol”[6] to Deepak da and carry back the empty containers. But the containers would not be entirely empty. There would be small notes in them, a sheet of paper folded repeatedly, until it was no larger than a postage stamp. I would deliver these notes unopened most of the time, but I confess, curiosity got the better of me and I opened some of them: “aamar tomake pranay patra”… (“This, my note of endearment to you…” ) "tomar ashadharon pratima aamar ratrir sunyatake nishchhol korchee"...(“Your enchanting image is agitating the stillness of the night before my eyes”) ”aami prattikhyaar gangaagy bhenshey gelam"...(“I am torn away in the torrent of expectation”)"jibonta jodi konto kagoj hoto"...”(“If life were but a blank page…”)…"eyi sondhey belai aami tomar pod-dhoni sunlam"... (“I heard your foot-steps as evening came”) "eta ki swapna? naa, aami ekhono kailashey phirey jaayee nee"...  (“Am I dreaming? No, my feet are firmly planted on this earth”).

Sometimes, he would hand over one of his uniform shirts to me: “ete botam khule gechhe …okè bol, laagiye ditè”. (“The button`s loose on this one, tell her to fix it for me.”)  Chhotomasi`s eyes would light up when I would bring her the shirt. She would hold the precious garment to her ample bosom and her eyes would close for a moment or two, a faint smile across her lips. She would then say to me: ”jaa! okè bol, baar baar botam lagaatè holey baaditè dorji raakhtè hobè”. (“Go! Tell him to keep a tailor at home if his buttons keep coming lose.”) But she would not return the shirt before stitching a new button, for the umpteenth time.

And so it went on for the next year or two. I was torn between my loyalty to Deepak da and my oath to my friends to share and share all. When the other dadas in the para were using threats of physical violence, and some of the bigger boys beat me up regularly, he was so good to me! In the end, I chose to keep this part of my life secret and continued to be loyal to Deepak da and chhotomasi.

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[1] Maternal aunt.

[2] The region at the Himalayan foothills, comprising the northern districts of West Bengal and parts of Assam state.

[3] Steamed rice

[4] Prawn curry in coconut milk

[5] Fish or mutton patties, covered in breadcrumbs and deepfried.

[6] Egg curry.

 


                                                                                                                      

                                                                                             III That year, at the Durga Puja, I overheard her telling the other ladies : ”O” sigarett naa khele bhalo laage naa”…(“A cigarette between his fingers only makes him look handsome”.) and “Dhormendor ke dekhechhish…”O” aro sundor dekhtey”, (“Have you seen the movie star Dharmendra….”He” is even more handsome”). All accompanied by peals of laughter from the assembled flock of boudis.[1] Deepak da excelled at dancing, and was a big draw during “sandhya arati”,[2] especially among the ladies. They watched mesmerized, as Deepak da danced, bare-chested in his dhuti, his every move showing off his rippling muscles to best effect under the spotlights and chandeliers. There was no doubt from the heaving bosoms and sweating foreheads among the young boudis of the para that more than one of them would like to have dried him off with her “anchol” [3] when finally, Deepak da put down the “dhumi”[4] and ended his “nritya”.[5]


But I had a feeling that evening, as the rhythm of the “dhak”[6] reached a frenzied climax, that Deepak da wasn`t

Deepak "Bobby" da, dancing at Durga Puja.

paying attention to the serried ranks of female admirers before him, their eyes openly lusting for him. And I was right. He nodded imperceptibly to me through the crowd and indicated I should meet him behind the pandal. I went around as discreetly as I could, making sure I wasn`t followed. He had a small velvet pouch for me. “Okè diye deesh, aar shon, eyi baar lukiye khule dekhbi naa!” (“Give this to her, and remember, this time, don`t peek inside.”) I peeked, of course, and inside were two pairs of “shakha” and “paula [7] bangles. When I went back to the pandal, and discretely slipped the pouch into chhotomasi`s hand, she didn`t look at me but stared straight ahead at the Durga pratima[8]. But I remember thinking there was a mixture of triumph and satisfaction in her eyes. Not unlike in Durga maa`s eyes.

 
On the “chandnatolla”,[9] the “sampradan”[10] had just got over and the sonorous tones of the chief priest wafted over the babble of excited invitees, as the “yagna”[11] got under way:

 

"Om Bhoor bhuva Suvaha:Thath Savithoor Varenyam, Bargho Devasya Dheemahee; Dhiyoyo  Na: Prachodayath.”

“Om Hrim Klim Chamundaye Vichhe!”

Chhutki`s family priest had come from the family`s native place, Piplun [12] and was a celebrated Sanskrit pandit. He was a stickler for detail and would not be rushed. It was going to be a long evening for those who were impatient to see Chhutki receive the “sindoor daan”.[13]


And so the evening dragged on in the pandal. The assembled guests helped themselves to the generous platters of “meetha paan”.[14] The women gossiped and showed each other their latest purchases of gold ornaments from P.C. Chandra Jewellers and compared the brocade on each other`s “benarasi” and “patola”[15] silks. Meanwhile the children ran around the pandal`s interior, creating a din, shouting and chasing one another, and tripping over Kamal da`s wooden folding chairs, each one carefully painted on the back with the sign: “MODERN DECORATORS EVERYTHING ELECTRICALS”.

The giant circulating fans on their pedestals did their best to provide some relief, but the oppressive air in the pandal began to take its toll and some of the guests started drifting out to puff on their cigarettes and take in the bracing winter air of the para. In the meantime, the dining tent had been declared open, and some of the guests, especially the older ladies and children started coming in to enjoy the culinary delights prepared by Potol`s father.

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[1] Married ladies of the para.

[2] The evening obeiscence to the idol which is a central part of the ceremonies during the community festival of Durga Puja.

[3] The part of the sari which hangs from the shoulder.

[4] An incense-burner, often held by those who dance in front of the idol during arati at Durga Puja.

[5] Dance, originally Sanskrit, but also used in Bengali.

[6] Traditional drums played at festivals in Bengal.

[7] Bangles made of shell and red coral, worn by women as symbols of marriage.

[8] An idol.

[9] The ceremonial dais on which the wedding ceremony is held.

[10] A ritual during the wedding in which a senior male member of the bride`s family places her hand in the groom`s.

[11] A ritual sacrifice in which oblations are poured into fire, invoking the blessings of the gods.

[12] A place in Burdwan District of West Bengal state.

[13] The ceremony during which the groom places vermillion in the bride`s hair parting.

[14] Betel leaves filled with areca nuts and condiments.

[15] The cities of Benaras and Patan in Gujarat are famous for their traditional silk weavers.