Few moments back it was raining for a while. The sun was no more bright, a gentle cool breeze was blowing. The rain had been stopped now. Waiting impatiently on this pleasant monsoon afternoon with Bakul-di at the porch of our quarter for my elder sister to come out to take us to the Gede railway station to have our joyous ride in the train, I finally called to her, “Didi, we are getting late. Bakul-di already has come and the train from Sealdah is about to arrive and if we do not start now, we will miss our fun.’’
She was helping my mother inside in folding the clothes picked up from outside a while ago prior to start of the rain, which were hanged on a string for getting dried up after washing. She called at me from inside, “Bhai, we are not going to ride the train today. You remember, yesterday Ratan uncle the station-master had warned us that again if we ride the train he will inform our father. For few days we will now avoid the train ride fun. But today I shall take you at a different place which you have never visited earlier. Just wait for few minutes to finish my work.”
At my childhood days, I was staying with my grandparents at our native place Barasat. When I was around 4 years old, my father was posted at Gede, the last railway station on India-Bangaladesh (East Pakistan at that time) border, for around a year or so. During that time I joined my parents, elder sister and brother for a short period at Gede for few months. In my vivid memory that was my first longest continuous stay after my birth with my parents, sister and brother.
Gede is a small town somewhat similar to a village, around 3 hours train journey from Sealdah. Even today Gede is having a population of ~ 8,000 only. At Gede we were staying in a 2 room railway quarter, with a kitchen and a shaded verandah (porch) in front of the entrance, which was very close to the railway station.
I really used to like this rail colony – quiet, secluded. There were no big buildings, but there was a feeling of heavy rural heaviness. There was a green field at the back of our rail colony, surrounded by many trees. It was as if it had been smeared with a very cold and deep tenderness. Next to the market there was a Kalibari and Mansabari (Goddess temples), with a large banyan tree, and under it was a paved round seating area.
Although I was very small then, but there were many small fragmented incidents which still I remember and cherish in my mind . Like lying next to my mother at night – falling asleep listening to the stories being narrated by her, going out with my father holding his hand on Sundays to buy meat from the market, wandering around at every nook and corners of Gede with my Didi (like Durga and Apu in ‘Pather Panchali’ wandering at unknown places at Nischindipur village), discovering one of my favourite person – our Boromami at Gede; and so many tiny fragmented memories.
Those days prior to Sep. 6 1965, there were two trains running between Sealdah and East Pakistan via Gede, one was East Bengal Express between Sealdah and Goalandu ghat and another one was East Bengal Mail between Sealdah and Parbatipur. The custom check was to be done at Gede railway station, the last railway station on Indian side and Darshana the corresponding last station on East Pakistan / Bangladesh side. Another train Barisal Express used to run from Sealdah to Khulna. Then those trains stopped running, when the movement for ‘Bangladesh’ as a separate state began.
On April 14 2008 after almost 44 years, again Maitree (friendship) Express was flagged off to run between Kolkata and Dhaka via Gede.
Every afternoon a train from Sealdah used to come at Gede, and after an hour or so again used to go back to Sealdah on changing the engine direction. That time every afternoon my Didi used to take me & my brother Pallab (sometimes) alongwith her friends from neighbours to board on the last compartment of the train, when the engine was in the process of disengaging to change its direction. When engine was getting engaged with the train on the other end of the train, there was a jerk and the train used to move backward for a few seconds and that was our train ride fun those days which we used to enjoy almost everyday without fail. My Didi and Bakul-di were the leaders for us for this childhood adventure. Sometimes, we were getting caught by the station master Ratan uncle and used to caution us to inform our father. After a gap of 1 or 2 days, again we used to enjoy our same ride.
Main Story
It was an utter surprise for me that afternoon when we were walking along the railway lines after crossing the main market and railway station and then through the main road of the town turning to a branch road leading to railway lines, maybe a few kilometres away from our place. This branch road on which we walked down and the railway lines was leading to the then East Pakistan border, so a forbidden place for us as instructed by our parents. As we were walking down on the road with big trees standing on both side of the road and with coconut, betel nut, banana and so many other unknown trees on both sides of the railway line, we were mesmerized with the scenic beauty at one hand and in parallel were getting a little bit frightened while nearing the border. It was a monsoon afternoon with light cool breeze blowing, the sky was enveloped with scattered cloud with almost invisible sunlight forming an environment of a Iittle bit scary. I was overwhelmed to see the beauty on both sides as we were walking along the railway line, me holding my sister’s hand – like the little boy from Nishchindipur holding Didi Durga’s hand running together through swamp – small pond – wide field full with kans grass to see the train with frightened eyes – if lost – if Didi could not find the roads to come back ! But then what would happen to our adventurous joy, could we leave it aside !
I was holding the hand of my elder sister firmly, walked down for a while and was unable to get any visibility of the border fence – finally whispered to her, “Didi, let us go back now. Our mother has told us not to come to this area near to border line. And if father comes to know about this he will scold us and will never allow us in future to play outside .”
Bakul-di then told me, “Calm down Palash, we will not let our parents to learn about our today’s adventure. We are almost reaching the border fence. Once we reach near it, we will turn back.”
(Later I learnt that based on Nehru-Noon agreement took place on Sep.12 1958 to end disputes and incidents along India-East Pakistan border area, and from 1960 the fence made of wire mesh was started being built along all the border lines. So the wire mesh fence running along the railway track a few kilometres away from Gede railway station also was built, which was afterwards guarded by BSF which formed in 1965. I am describing our above adventurous journey to visit border fence which took place in 1963, that time the fence was installed but it was incomplete and unprotected).
After a few moment while almost nearing the fence we could see a man holding something like a bag or suitcase in his hand approaching us from the other side. We all suddenly got scared and decided to go back.
As we turned back and started walking, we heard the man called at us, “Hey, stop stop.” We all really got panicked, and realized we are caught now. We could hear the man’s footsteps running towards us.
I was still holding Didi’s hand firmly almost clinging to her body and in almost tears, I heard the man saying, “Ma-jononi-ra, are you all coming from Gede town?” (Generally, the Bengalis aged people like to address the female child of their daughter’s age as ‘didibhai’ or ‘ma-jononi’ by affection.)
He was talking to my Didi and Bakul-di. I then looked at the man, a small and thin one with unshaven face wearing a soiled dhoti and shirt and carrying a small suitcase made of tin.
My Didi was very smart and bold and didn’t get scared, told him, “Uncle, we came here from town to visit this place with my friend and brother. We are almost decided to go back, when you found us. Anyhow what is your name, Uncle and from where you are coming?”
I started getting relaxed slowly looking at the man who appeared to be nothing to get scared off. The man replied, “My name is Bablu Mondol. I am coming from Rajshahi town and reached Darshana station to catch the East Bengal Express train, I need to reach Ranaghat. But I need to wait till late night to get into East Bengal Express – so I thought of walking down the railway line to catch the evening train from Gede. After completing the paper formalities at Darshana station, I started walking down the railway track to catch a Sealdah bound train from Gede.”
We started walking down the railway line alongwith Bablu uncle. Didi asked, “But uncle, as I know Darshana station is quite far away, and you are walking down from there.”
“Yes Ma-jononi, I have walked down almost 30 kms. The railway officials at Darshana station told me there is a train in the evening from Gede.”
“Yes, I think you will be able to get the train, if we walk first.” Didi replied, “But why you are going to Ranaghat, we believe you are staying at Rajshahi with your family.”
“No Ma-jononi, I was staying at Nator around 22 / 23 kms away from Rajshahi town with my mother, wife, a son and was running a Hindu hotel near to Rajshahi railway station with 4 / 5 assistants. I was having a house of 4 rooms with kitchen at Nator. I was also having a barn with cows, a small pond. We had a very peaceful life and was managing well.”
“Then what happened ?” Bakul-di asked.
“It’s a long story, Ma-jononi, I lost everything during partition. I don’t like to burden your children’s mind with the tragic incident.”
Then Didi pleaded him with earnest, “Please uncle, we are eager to know. You know, our father was staying with his parents and siblings at Cumilla and they all left during 1947 partition and are now settled at Barasat. Similar incident with our mother also, her father and uncles with their children left Jessore in one night leaving behind their house and all properties there, still they are struggling to get settled comfortably at Barasat and even today they are staying in a rented house. I have heard those stories from my parents and grandparents. Though my brother is still small to understand this, but I can explain him later.”
If Bablu Kaku doesn’t want to tell about his incident as I was a kid that time, then the story could not be heard. I said hurriedly, “No, Didi. Dadubhai (grandfather) narrated me those stories and I understand everything. Bablu uncle, please tell us what happened with you.”
Bablu uncle was silent for a few moments while we were walking down the railway track, I was wondering whether he would narrate us his story. Maybe he was unable to decide from where to start or how far he should tell us, then slowly he started as if recalling the incident with pain, “We got freedom, two countries are formed, a demarcation line is drawn between two countries. And a few days later I saw many people started to move towards West Bengal one by one by selling their houses and lands to the wealthy Muslims at a much cheaper price than the fair one. My hotel was running in Rajshahi then. I thought that all the employees in my hotel are muslims, I grew up here from my childhood, I have so many Muslim friends, then what is my fear. But after a while I was surprised to see – except a few adamant, some optimists and a few helpless people all are running towards West Bengal one by one. One evening, one of my hotel assistants named Rahim Sheikh and wanted us to be safe came to our house and told us to leave that very night. We had only few hours to pack up what we could, carried it tied around our bodies and fled at late night to the railway station Rajshahi. Just as we boarded a passenger train, I saw my hotel in flames through the window. Tears were running down my faces. I kept my mother, wife and son of about 3 years old then hidden with the family of a Muslim man with a request, under the disguise of being his family. Whenever the train used to stop at a station, we were getting panicked. Somehow after several hours next day we could reach Jessore and from there we walked down to Benapole check post to cross the border. At the border camp, we were instructed to go to Beliaghata refugee camp where we stayed for a month about. There I got acquainted with a person whose friend was running a hotel near Ranaghat railway station. As I had experience with running hotel business, so I got a chance to get appointed there as a hotel employee – now I am running the hotel as an in-charge. Since last 15 years I am staying at Ranaghat with my family, my mother is no more and the son has completed his schooling.”
Though I was feeling heavy on seeing the grief faces of Didi and Bakul-di, but at that age what I could think that ultimately Bablu uncle is staying with his family and also working in a hotel, without understanding his agony or mental suffering he experienced and still going through (which I understood later), said to him, “But uncle, finally you must be feeling happy staying at Ranaghat with your family.”
“Yes, Babajibon. But today at Ranaghat we stay in a small rented house and working in a hotel, but at Nator we were having our own house and also a hotel of my own at Rajshahi. And Nator was my own place where I studied and grew up. Sometimes I used to feel detouched with this place initially, when often I found people calling me as ‘bangal’ (‘bangal’ a pejorative term used to describe people from East Bengal) and used to taunt me with my accent. But now slowly I have adjusted myself with the atmosphere over here, but it’s difficult sometimes to forget the root. Sometimes it is painful to digest that today they are sending refugees like us to the jungle of Dandak, is it right ? The country got independence but we lost the country. Isn’t it peculiar to hear about. But this peculiar incident only started controlling our present and future. Babajibon, now you are a small kid, now you can’t understand our troubles, grow up, you will understand everything.”
I was not able to understand fully what the uncle was saying and was about to speak, when Didi silenced me and whispered, “I shall explain you everything later.”
He further continued, “I had been to Rajshahi a few times before, Rahim Sheikh with his family started staying at our house. Rahim Sheikh said, if I can return home one day, he will leave the house for us to stay. But this time I was surprised to see that Ayub Khan’s people had taken over our house. Rahim Sheikh said that Ayub Khan’s army occupied the house one day by force. All my property related papers were kept in the house securely, but understood from Rahim the army destroyed all the papers. They even didn’t allow me to enter the house. I had a sister, got her married in Chapai Nawabganj. Her in laws were well off in business dealing with fish. Few years back I went to Chapai Nawabganj to find out about them, but found theirs’ house is abandoned and completely burnt out. When enquired, the neighbours told me that one night during partition time they found their house was set ablazed and when they checked the house after few days found none inside. I searched for them at every refugee camps but could not find them. Again this time I visited there, and found the house has been repaired and converted into a government office. I still do not know and doubt whether they are alive.”
I could see tears running down his face, he continued with a moist voice, “When I started staying at Ranaghat, everyday I had seen trains filled with people heading towards Sealdah. Once I went to Sealdah station. The station was overcrowded with the refugees then, and looked at the families who were scrambling for food and shelter I could not control my tears.”
I was looking at painful face of Bablu uncle without understanding in full what he was saying, but with hearing a few stories from my grandparent in past about partition, I could realize that may be the harrowing storm of partition 1947 that uprooted and dislocated people based on religion is traumatic to recall by them.
Later when grown up I felt, Indeed we are independent today but the freedom bestows upon as a responsibility of understanding, respecting and sustaining it.
By that time, we almost reached Gede station and the train bound for Sealdah was about to leave. We said goodbye to Bablu uncle, and rushed to our quarters as it was already dark and started drizzling. On our way back to home, Didi made me to promise that I should not say anything to our mother about our today’s adventure towards the border line and would keep it as a secret with us. By the time we reached home it started raining heavily and we were almost got drenched. Luckily our father had yet to come back from his office. We immediately went to bathroom to change our wet clothes, and later Didi managed our mother’s query by telling a basket full of lies.
The Last One
When ‘Pather Panchali’ re-telecasted on TV on the centenary of Satyajit Ray’s birth, I felt like watching the movie again. While viewing the movie I could able to recollect that me and Didi walking hand in hand along the railway line, with two eyes full of wonders at Gede around 58 years back. Although I read ‘Pather Panchali’ and ‘Aparajit’ several times in past, but after watching the movie, a desire grew in me to read ‘Pather Panchali’ again, and forcing me to read a particular paragraph again and again.
Durga says to Apu – Come on, let’s see the railway line today. But Durga also does not know how far the railway line is, she only knows that by crossing the main road of Nawabganj, they will surely be able to see the railway line. Durga since long had a desire to see the railway line. The two of them standing on the road of Nawabganj, looked straight in front of them. Durga says – very far away, isn’t it – can’t go. Thinking whether will be able to come back after that ? Suddenly Durga says desperately – Come on, let’s go Apu – how far will it be? I’ll tell mother we got delayed to find the calf ——-
Two brother and sister started running through the field – swamp – small pond. Run, run, run – they looked back and saw that the road of Nawabganj is far behind. Run, run, run again – for the first time in their lives, their young minds were filled with the joy of liberation without any hindrance, without boundaries, where is the time to think about what will happen next?
(I don’t know why when I read this part of ‘Pather Panchali’, my mind gets excited, as if I want to go back to my childhood)
But after going some distance, Durga lost her way. With great difficulty they turned around and somehow managed to come back to the main road. But the desire of Durga’s to see the railway line remained un-fulfilled.
(Although Satyajit Ray had fulfilled Durga’s wish in his film. And who had not read ‘Pather Panchali’ or had not seen the movie – Durga died at the age of 14 years only in the novel and Apu had travelled in train in future on so many occassions).
When Apu’s sister came home, she managed her mother by telling a basket full of lies, but she saved her own and Apu’s back.
When I read the above sentence, I remembered our expedition with my sister to see the border fence along the railway line in Gede – Didi’s repeated prohibition that I should not tell my mother anything on returning home to avoid our mother’s scolding and everything would be managed by Didi.
I was just thinking I kept this expedition for such a long time in my heart – like a pearl hidden in an oyster.
Note : Some lines in italics at “The Last one” are taken from Bibhutibhusan Bandopadhyay’s novel ‘ Pather Panchali’
Image by Helmut H. Kroiss from Pixabay
