Of Ma and a day in Tezpur…!

The Bengali speaking lady, who Ma could only recognise by face, stopped in front of our house to enquire about Ma’s health. The lady was concerned because she had not seen Ma recently during morning walks. She asked in Bengali, “Sab Bhalo tu” and Ma responded in Axomia, “Bhal bhal,” and both the ladies in their early 70’s understood each other perfectly. Their smiles reflected their genuine respect and concern for each other.

As I was in Tezpur, on that particular morning Ma opened a new Amul Taza Tetra pack to prepare a special cup of tea.  Otherwise she could have managed with part of the Ek puwa  (250ml), cow milk that Abdul delivered everyday from Ashinta da’s house. Than, she tried to prepare the tea like Priyanka (my wife) prepares in Delhi by adding some extra milk. She thought I might not like the tea with less milk. That is what she thought and I have absolutely no control over her thinking…!

     The road in front of our house in Tezpur ... Old Ban Theater towards left

We sat down to sip the tea in our front verandah, facing the old Ban-theater ( in Kolibari), where once legends of Assam like Bishnu Rabha, Phoni Sharma, Bhupen Hazarika, Nipon Gosmani and others performed epic drama’s and music programs. It was at Ban Theater where Rongali Bihu was first performed on stage in the early twenties.  I feel fortunate to have been born in this locality where these great legends were born. As Ma was describing to me about our Amla tree’s sudden death due to lightning, her best friend Bhanu bow, along with Dipali bow, Dipa bow, Bulbuli bow were returning back from their morning walk. They stopped to enquire about me, when did I came and what Ma had cooked for me for dinner. Ma responded by saying, “nothing special”, he is happy with Alu pitika and tenga anja. 

As they left, our discussion took us to our good old days when we all used to stay together in our ancestral house. During our childhood when my father and all uncles were alive, more than 30 family members used to stay together in one house. The entire campus with the main building, temple, kitchen, granary, vegetable garden, fruit orchard, portico, garage was on a massive 5-bigha plot. There was a large kitchen bigger than the flat I stay in Delhi today. Meals were cooked using wood in big chulas and also on gobar gas. There was one person specially kept to cut wood and feed cow dung to the gobar gas plant, one person to look after the 40 odd cows, a driver and other help. Ma, Borma, Khuri would be in the kitchen most of the time either cooking meals or preparing tea for the numerous guests. There was also a separate kitchen for Aita (grandmother) and a big well in front of the house for the outside people. People from nearby homes would collect water from the well whenever there was a problem with municipality water supply. But, in any case Tezpur Municipality was the best in the entire state. My eldest borta, “Moina Borta” was the Chairman of Tezpur Municipality for close to 15 years and was actually instrumental in laying the foundation for making Tezpur one of the cleanest towns of the world today (as per recent WHO report). Every morning he used to prepare tea for the entire family in a big pot before going for his morning walk to inspect the sweepers cleaning the town alleys. He ensured that the town roads and dustbins were properly cleaned. Had he been alive today, Modi ji would have definitely taken his name in “Man ki Baat” for pioneering Swachh Bharat.  During those days we used to take pride in telling the Rickshwa wala “Moina Ukil ka ghar jana hai”. No explanation for address was required, mere mention of his name of enough in Tezpur towan..!

During those days Ma and I never imagined sitting together to enjoy a cup of tea. So we were enjoying our rare time together, when Dipu da arrived from his 15 km daily cycling session, looking ever so fit at 61 years, with his broad smile and sweating t-shirt. After some routine talk, he informed Ma that he had already lodged a complaint in the telephone exchange and in the afternoon somebody will come to repair the telephone line, which was dead for the last two days.  Dipuda is the first point of contact for Ma in any kind of emergency.

Only Puna da knows how he manages to cycle so well in his dhoti.  That day Puna da had a busy schedule, as he had to perform two pujas, one Shardha and an anna praxan. Otherwise he would have spent some time with Ma and me.  Ma looked at the clock, it was time for Jammuna, our help to arrive.  Anticipating her late arrival Ma went inside to the kitchen to prepare Luci Bhaji (my favorite). Outside, my cousin Tonmon’s pet dog, Phutuka pulled him to our entrance gate. Phutuka would not move till Ma gave him biscuits. Jammuna arrived along with her husband, Bhaigya. That day Ma was waiting more for Bhaigya than Jammuna, because the bathroom tape was leaking and it was only Madhab (plumber by profession) who could fix it. Seeing Bhaigya, Ma became happy, probable more than when she saw me the night before, when I suddenly arrived on an official trip.

The bell rang again; this time it was Rupesh, carrying a hot case sent by Dipu da. It cannot be anything else inside other than local fish curry which Mamu bow must have prepared the night before. Next to arrive was Pradip da, dot on time. He has been Ma’s travelling companion for the last one decade. He is one of the biggest help for Ma and for all of us. Without entering our house (the car keys remain with him) he drove out our 2003 model Maruti 800 car from the garage and waited for Ma. This was our first car that I had purchased on loan after getting a cash award of Rs 50,000/- from then President of Volleyball Federation of India, Late Dr Shivanthi Adityan. (The cash award was given because of our good performance in the 2002 Busan Asian Games).

It was a Wednesday and Ma had to go to Thelamara from school to attend Mauza office. We both finished our breakfast quickly. Before leaving she carefully explained to me where the house keys are kept, gave directions regarding other important things, checked her spectacles, her purse, gave the motor bakoli to the cows and left for school with Pradeep da. I sat on Deuta’s old wooden chair in front of the house once again. Life at Tezpur moves in slow motion. After taking a pause of 2 to 3 minutes, a car or a scooter would drive past our house and every alternate person on a cycle or foot will stop to say hello or enquire about my life in Delhi. Nothing much has changed except that battery-operated autos have replaced some of the pedal rickshaws. And the old Namgarh has been completely rebuilt with the initiative of Bharat da. I felt good thinking of my life at Tezpur on that particular day and comparing it with the actual situation at office at that point of time…!

As I was talking to one of my childhood friend leaning on the front gate, I spotted the Jail Sabzi wala approaching our house. In Tezpur, the old inmates of the Jail cultivate vegetables in the jail land and they are allowed to visit the nearby locality to sell the produce. As Ma had instructed me to buy some vegetables from the jail sabzi wala as these are very pure stuff (organic in Delhi’s language), I waved to the Qaidi dada to stop. Without me ordering for anything he starting weighing the fresh tomatoes. I realized he knew what Ma often purchased, so before I would bring the bag from inside, he kept all the vegetables on our veranda. I stood beside his thela and started a conversation. He has been in Tezpur Jail for the two decades and much to my surprise, he knew my father by name. He told me, he once played a football match where my father was the referee. I felt so good discussing life during those times, I requested him for a cup of tea. He did not refuse but smiled and pointed towards his uniform. I understood they are not allowed to break protocol and he was an honest inmate…!

Soon after, I went to visit my Pehi at our ancestral house. She has been living a retired life along with our youngest uncle, aunty and son Tonmon. Seeing me she became very happy and quickly gave me a big lemon, which was from a lemon tree she had planted. She also showed me a rare seasonal flower on her mobile phone (non-android), which blossomed few days ago. The flower tree was planted long back by Deuta, her elder brother and my father.  Later I had tea with Jitu da and Kobita khuri and crossed the orchard to reach Dipu da’s house in the same campus. With both his children, Emon and Ritom working and studying in Delhi, Dipu da and bow seems to be very lonely these days. In another separate house in the same campus reside Moina Borta’s son, Apuda and Meena bow. It gives me goosebumps whenever I go to our Purana ghar. How it was to be during my childhood and how it is today. 

I went to see our big pond, which we are struggling to maintain after Deuta passed away. I remembered fishing alongside Deuta and catching countless fish during summers, especially misa mas and dorikona J. In our childhood everyone used to have a special spot in the pond for catching fish with their rods. Deuta would use the imported fiber fishing rod, which we were not supposed to touch. The fishing rod was one of the rare precious posessions of dauta apart from his bicycle. Looking at the pond from a distance I felt like returning back to Tezpur forever…!

Seeing me one of our neighbors stopped to inform that some people are stealing fish from our pond. I smiled and assured him that I will see to it. In the back of my mind I felt good that at least some needy soul is benefiting from the pond, which Deuta so affectionately managed for decades...!

Ma, returned from the Mouza in the afternoon. We both had lunch together. She informed me that she has to visit a neighbor’s  house as their daughter has scored very good grade in some college exams. In our place if somebody scores good grades, everyone will go to their house to congratulate him or her. In the evening, there was an informal meeting planned at our house for “Buloni sora”picnic preparation. Bulani sora is a gathering of aged women, who meet every Friday evening at Ban Theater and share good things they have experienced or came across. This gathering has become very popular among the ladies of Ma’s age and they all look forward to the Friday’s. A special “Thank God Its Friday” for them too…!

Listening to Ma’s evening schedule, I decided to visit our Rangoni Volley Ground at Bessaria. Rangoni Youth Sports Foundation is a small organisation of former players who are working towards providing a platform for rural sportspersons of Assam. I am also a part of this organization and it feels very good spending some quality time with the boys.

In the evening, when I returned from the ground, I found Ma busy writing an article on Shishu Bharti School, run by Tezpur Mahila Samity. The article was for a Souvenir to be published on the occasion of centenary celebration of the Samity. Only recently I came to know that our Great grandmother Late Maheshwari Devi founded Tezpur Mahila Samity in the year 1918. Ma joined this school in 1988. It was during the same time, I first started playing volleyball. I remember with her first salary of Rs 150 she bought me a tracksuit. Couple of years ago, she has been assigned the responsibility of Head Mistress. Being a NGO school there is no retirement age. Spending time with the school children is like a magical medicine for Ma to stay happy and active   these days.

That night watching “Beharbari Outpost”,a regular Assamese serial in a local channel we discussed many things. Both my sister’s Mungku and Bhonji took turns to call and enquire what we were doing. They both reside in Guwahati and they were envious that they are unable to take part in our discussions. As we were about to start our dinner, Kartik mama suddenly arrived. He had been out of station for quite sometimes and had come to check Ma’s blood pressure, which was long pending. Kartik Mama is Ma’s brother, a doctor and our courage. He found her blood pressure to be normal but he said he would return two days later to re-check once again. He opined that my presence at Tezpur may be the reason for Ma’s normal blood pressure J

Next day, after a delicious lunch with Ma, I left for Guwahati driving Bhonji’s car (my elder sister). While driving I kept thinking about Ma. She would continue with her life alone at Tezpur, with her wonderful neighbor and day to day challenges, like paying electricity bill, repairing water pump, engaging a laborer to clean the garden, buying medicine, checking regular blood test, submitting Mouza’s payment, etc. I sometimes feel like bringing her to Delhi but then again she will be deprived of the many pleasures and liberty she is enjoying now.  God, balances life better than us, is what she would say always. You cannot get everything in life.

As I was crossing Nagaon by-pass, I felt very sleepy and was finding it difficult to drive the car. So, I stopped near a dhaba to take a short nap. I suddenly woke up to a phone call. It was Ma calling ……“Subul Kot Pali ….tur kanaybakay tuponi dhorisay niki?………….alop rokhi Cha ekup khai loba.!”. (Subul, where have you reached …by any chance are you feeling sleepy………..Stop for sometime and have a cup of tea….!).  For the remainder of my journey I kept wondering, how can she, sitting at home, feel my feeling? Probably that’s what Mother’s are all about.

Abhijit Bhattacharya

ongc.abhijit@gmail.com