Read A Bend in the River of Life Online
Authors: Budh Aditya Roy
The true manifestation of love is this. It always transcends the travails and turmoils of life and reveals itself as a brilliant diamond being purified by the pain and suffering caused by them.
The jewel of the British Empire was about to fall! The sun of British supremacy was about to set! Death knell of colonialism was about to be struck! On the part of the British Government the war hero Rear-Admiral Earl Louis Mountbatten was appointed as the Governor General of Secular India to oversee the transfer of power. Given the history of those turbulent times, there could be no better appointment for that momentous position. Earl Mountbatten, who later became the Lord of Admiralty of the British Navy had close ties with the Royal Family and had a special political clout. He was young, caring and understanding. He read the Indian psyche in no time and was ready to heal the wounds with his personal charm. If
there ever was a kindred spirit in the entire British Nation, it was him. He rose to the historic heights of the occasion. His presence during that crucial transfer of power was undoubtedly a blessing for the nascent nation.
Freedom came to India, maimed and mauled beyond recognition, at the stroke of midnight on August 15, 1947 while its capital Delhi was burning uncontrollably. The much truncated Freedom came almost surreptitiously in the middle of the night, soaked in blood and tears, haunted by dead millions, taunted derisively by the raped and ravaged countless other souls. Yes, Freedom came to India on the wings of the empty spirit of a stupefied nation.
As the wounded Freedom was solemnly proclaimed at that blood-drenched midnight from the ramparts of the Red Fort in Delhi, Rana was awake on the lap of Devika. The family gathered around the radio to listen to the speech titled “Tryst with Destiny” delivered by the first Prime Minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru. Little Rana listened to the husky voice of Premier Nehru, quivering in emotion. He did not quite understand all that the Premier said but realized something extra-ordinary was happening.
For Rana the flight to safety and survival was a giant leap forward toward unknown and unpredictable. But for the River of Life that was just another checkered event in its eternal flux. For Rana the enormity of the disaster was blinding the way to the future. But for the River of Life it was another means of gathering steam to bring vigor to its many splendid journeys to Eternity.
I
t was December of 1947. Over a year elapsed since Rajani, Devika and Rana came to the safety of Calcutta for a stay of about six months. Meanwhile, the country was divided. Two independent nations born out of blood and hate were not expected to live in peace and friendship. And that's what happened. First flashes of confrontation and bloodshed already showed its ugly head in Kashmir. Amit Roy's well-meaning thoughts that the two nations would come together again after the departure of the British, lay buried under the effect of the despicable scorched earth policy of the departing British Raj. A decision had to be taken now either to go back to insecure environment in Dacca or move to a permanent accommodation in Calcutta.
Rajani sent a message to Amit to that effect. Words came shortly from him that contrary to his prior belief, returning to Dacca was ruled out forever. Environment there was not conducive to minority communities. Waves of people were still crossing over to India seeking safety of life and livelihood. Besides, the family properties in Birpur were looted and damaged beyond repair. Buying a new property in Dacca was fraught with grave risk and was ill-advised. Under the circumstances, the visit that was meant to be purely temporary now appeared to be for good. So life had to start from the scratch. And that was the worry of Rajani right from the beginning. She was not prepared for this predicament. In a nervous hurry she brought all she could, enough clothing for everyone and articles of everyday use. Everything else was left behind. The landed
gentry were reduced to landless nomads. Yet life never gives up. It rises from the ashes and seeks and finds solutions at a graduated scale. It tends to find normalcy even in exile. That was how the River of Life was woven with uncanny craftsmanship.
Sheila came and spent a week with Rajani and the clan. Her family moved to one of the eastern suburbs of Calcutta for the time being. She was also not happy with her plight. But given the circumstances what else could be expected? Thanks God that everyone in the extended family was still alive! Sheila's visit brought a little diversion to Devika and Rana. Not that they had any complaints as such. But with all the uncertainties around, life was getting a little strenuous. Community living was becoming a little crammed. Sheila had a pleasant but strong personality which could make her the leader of the pack easily. From the moment she arrived she took control of the situation. She would go out with Devika and Rana either for shopping or to see a long-lost friend or simply to stroll around the crowded streets. She made it feel like vacation.
Soon there was a pleasant retreat for Rajani, Devika and Rana. Rajani's old parents and two sisters also migrated safely and settled down not very far from Sheila's residence. Rajani's sisters landed up jobs with the State Government. Despite being uprooted from their hearth and home they were comfortable and happy. Fortunately, there are always some people in the River of Life who are never unhappy even under most difficult circumstances. They would find ways to keep themselves happy as if to teach others around them by their own examples not to give up hope and not to stop trying.
Once in a while, Rajani would spend a few days with her parents along with Devika and Rana. Those were the happy days for Rana in exile. Rajani's parents were remarkable. At that time Rajani's father, Saroj was in the late nineties and her mother, Nandini in her early eighties. Considering his age Saroj was always bed-ridden, but fully alert. He knew perfectly well who Rana was. He would always exchange a few words with him or even make a little fun. However,
it was with Nandini that Rana used to have a thriving time. Nandini would spend a lot of time talking to Rana. Rajani was very strict about his eating habits. But Nandini would always put away some home made desserts and cookies for him. She would give him the cookies behind Rajani's back and whisper, “Eat them quickly before your grandma comes.” In the evening they would take a stroll in a huge park near by with a man-made lake in the middle and hillocks on the sides. On the hillocks Rana used to play hide-and-seek with Devika. There was a great variety of ducks and storks in the lake. They used to feed the ducks and love watching the storks catching fish with their long beaks. These outings were welcome diversions for little Rana. Away from the din and bustle of the city and worries and anxieties of unsettled living, these visits were refreshing.
Notwithstanding those diversions, time was floating away not exactly the way Amit and Rajani would have liked. More than anything else, the most serious casualty of the traumatic development of the past year was the formal good education for Rana. Home made education was acceptable in the absence of nothing, but not nearly enough. Even in exile a comfortable home was a necessity. House-hunting was going on for sometime, but without success. Finally, with the help of a business friend Sumit got a house at the north-western suburbs of Calcutta on the other side of the River Ganges. Rajani liked the house and she had the final word. Only one hitch was that the house would be ready for occupancy in about three months time. However, for the homeless nomads there was no other choice. Over ten million people were displaced on account of partition. Calcutta was not ready for that huge influx of new residents.
In the mean time, the nation dealt with another blow of historic proportions. It was January 1948. Rana became four years old. The family was anxiously waiting to relocate to the new house. However, at the end of the month tragedy struck India out of nowhere. The father of the newborn nation, Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated by a gunman at a prayer meeting in New Delhi. The country was in
mourning. The violent death of a non-violent man stirred the soul of the nation. For more than four decades he led the Freedom Movement against the British Raj, suffering many years in incarceration in the process. The price for achieving that freedom was paid in blood by being killed brutally at the hands of a fellow countryman! Now at that critical juncture of its existence, the newly independent nation would be sadly devoid of the fountain of wisdom. Prime Minister Nehru addressed the nation in mourning. Sitting on the lap of Devika, Rana heard his husky voice cracking in emotion. Once again, Earl Mountbatten rose to the occasion. Standing by Premier Nehru as a tower of strength, he gave comfort and solace to the grieving and mourning nation.
Soon the family moved to the new house in Rampur by the western bank of the River Ganges just opposite the northern suburbs of Calcutta. Until recently, it was a princely town owned by the Raja of Rampur. The aristocracy and the progressive rule of the successive Rajas showed up everywhere in that town. The most conspicuous presence in Rampur was the stately palace of the Raja of Rampur. It was sparkling white like pearls. For his three sons there were three smaller palaces. The most ubiquitous presence in Rampur was the River Ganges, about a mile wide along the stretch of the town. On the bank of the river was the imposing Public Library. About half-a-mile south of the library were the Government School and College, next to each other.
At Rampur, Rana was admitted to a small private school. At long last, formal education began for him, though not exactly the way Amit and Rajani would have liked. But in exile the choices were always limited. The school was about ten minutes walk, but for little Rana it could take a few extra minutes depending on the myriad distractions on the way. The short walk to the school through the three princely estates was a sheer pleasure. The entire way was embellished with trees, plants and flowers on both sides. Sometimes, the walk could be too lonely in the morning. However, the solitary
patch would be frequently broken by the chirping and whistling birds capering flippantly among the heavily wooded landscape. Especially, in the spring and early summer the air would often be filled with the enchanting melody of cuckoo, a rarely visible bird made famous by the English poet Wordsworth. Rana heard that cuckoo was a very ugly bird. However, in his little mind he could not figure out how such an ugly bird could generate that delightful, soul stirring melody. Despite his many inquisitive efforts to spot a cuckoo, he came up with nothing.
To Rana, the great attraction for Rampur was the River Ganges which was just a few blocks away from their house. They could even see the river from the roof of their house. The view of the River from any point in Rampur was breathtaking. However, apart from the view, the din and bustle around the river was what was attractive to Rana. The spiritually minded people taking a dip while chanting verses from their scripture; the ferry transporting across hundreds of people; fishermen displaying their fresh catches of the day; barges carrying fresh fruits and vegetables; and the big dredgers dredging the silts at the bottom of the river were just a few of the many activities surrounding the river that used to give immense pleasure to little Rana.
Things were going remarkably well for Devika. The womenfolk in the neighborhood became fond of her because of her easy, outgoing and helpful nature. However, she was not sent back to school though she was a good student in her own rights and completed Junior High School before the exodus. Normally, during those days, the girls were given in marriage at a pretty young age. The would-be in-laws used to value cooking, house-keeping, knitting, embroidery and things of that sort. So she was busy learning those skills from Rajani and Anjali.
To Rana's delight, summer, followed by monsoon, brought an astonishing variety of sweet scented white flowers like king of fragrance, chamomiles, camellia, mogra, henna, night queen and
jasmine. Before exile when he used to go to the garden of their house with Rajani and Devika to gather flowers, he was too young to follow their names. Now, the four year old Rana started learning the names of the flowers from his school teacher. Every morning, while making his way to the school through the princely estates, Rana would pick up some flowers for his teacher and the teacher would tell him their names. Mindful of the fact that Rajani would be very happy to have the flowers at her prayer, during his summer vacation little Rana made it a part of his morning ritual to go and pick up the flowers dropped on the dewy grass or the sidewalks for offerings at Rajani's prayer. Impressed with Rana's sense of propriety at such a young age, Rajani said that the trying circumstances of the exile propelled Rana to grow up faster than his age.
At the departure of the monsoon appeared autumn with its string of religious festivals. That year the people were prepared to put behind the tragedies and in the mood to celebrate the festivals in the right spirits. The festivities were over-shadowed by the turmoil of the partition in the previous two years. So, for the first time in his life Rana enjoyed the festivals thoroughly. Especially, on the evening of Diwali or Festival of Lights he was delighted to see the fireworks from the cosy comfort of Devika's protective wings, for he himself was scared to death to go anywhere near them.
Close on the heels of the festivals the school opened for the last few weeks before the annual exams. The exams began and ended in a week. That was the first serious learning test in Rana's life. However, he fared well and did not disappoint anyone. Then the school closed for a month long winter vacation that spanned the Christmas and New Year Holidays. That was the best part of the year. The bounties of nature manifested in many ways. The markets were full of winter fruits and vegetables. The supply of fish and a wide variety of birds were in abundance for sumptuous feasts. That was the only time in the year when the delicious juice of dates was available in plenty. The date juice was an important ingredient for a delectable rice pudding
and various other delicious desserts that Rajani used to cook for Rana.