Sketches from North Bengal

(Reading Time: 32 min Approx)

The argument with the driver of the jeep started midway between Darjeeling to Tiger Hill, as the vehicle trudged uphill, on the winding mountain road.

Nina shrugged. “I don’t understand why we have to pay extra …..”

“It’s festival time. Many of the taxis are off the road. You’ll find some of the drivers drunk. Look at me. How stone sober I am! I’m reading you safe and sound through this thick fog.. Why shouldn’t I charge double? “Said the driver.

A whiff of course local rum emanated from his breath. Nina looked at him from the corner of her eyes. Didn’t like the look of him. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d charge more at the very outset?” She said, “Why are you suddenly raising your rate?”.

Sam nudged her, hinting her to keep quiet.

Don and Sarah looked out of the window. They were a group of college friends, all buddies out on vacation after the final exams.

Don turned towards Nina.

“You know how dangerous these roads have become “ he said. “It’s not only the pot holes, or the steep or landslides, some times I feel India has gone back in time, to the mediaeval age. Dacoits and robbers have resurged. They chop off a tree or two and block the road with the logs. The cars have to slow down, and are eventually forced to come to a halt., It’s then that they jump into action to rob the passengers of their belongings”.

The driver eyed them through the rearview mirror .  “Are you willing to pay up, or not ?” he blurted out.

“It’s not about the money for fairness sake, you shouldn’t be doing this to us midway., I won’t give in to blackmail, no!”

“Get out, then, I’m stopping the car !”.

“The man’s drunk. It’s risky to travel in his car on these steep hilly roads”. Whispered Som.

“And the fool doesn’t realize that we’re very nearly there … It’s he who might lose out on the dough” Nina remarked.

A little while later, they were trudging up the mountain path on their feet. The sun was about to set. In the waning mellow sunshine, the distant villages on the mountain slopes seemed to be dotted with little structures. Trees, temples, factory sheds, electric poles, churches, cows grazing, everything looks tiny from afar like doll’s houses, thousands of feet above sea level on Tiger Hill.

This was a popular tourist destination near the hill station of Darjeeling, a pretty town created by the British during colonial times. It’s said that the view of the sunrise witnessed from Tiger Hill is spectacular, not to be missed in a lifetime. It was to cherish this that tourists flocked here. There was a lavish colonial era bungalow atop Tiger Hill, which could be seen from a distance, even from the foot hills. It was this bungalow they intended to go to – their destination. But what had seemed of the naked eye to be just a short way away was discovered to be an illusion of vision as they climbed uphill.

“How much further do we have to go, Som? It’s getting dark, isn’t it?” this question of Sarah’s was answered by Don’s comment: “Oh look at those lights all along the slopes in the distance ………. Beautiful! Don’t they look like fire files?”

“What are they actually, Don?”

“They’re lights from the villages in the distance. I read that it’s only some years ago that electricity reached them. There are still numerous villages in India left in the dark without electricity”.

“Hmm” said Som “it can’t be denied that it’s very difficult to administrate India. What with different parts of the country showing signs of disintegration with guerilla movements and resurgences”.

“What about this part? I read Darjeeling, too, was very turbulent and troubled for years till about a few months back”, said Sarah

“Quite so” said Don. A self styled leader started voicing the dissatisfaction of the local people who felt neglected by the state administration. They wanted to tear away from the Indian state of West Bengal to which Darjeeling belongs.”

Som nodded, “I know, they wanted to break into a different country altogether, naming it Gorkhaland”.

“Yeah, it’s the Gorkhas who are the sons of the soil, aren’t they?” Said Nina “But can you tell me why there’s so much strife and intolerance? The North Eastern state of Assam had sought it’s own identity, intending to form a separate state, rather nation, so did the western province of Punjab and other states. Orissa was split up into Jharkhand and Uttar Pradesh into Uttarakhand with the illusion that conditions would improve. But Alas : what disappointment  followed.”

Don shrugged “I think it’s just lack of civilized, cultured world view that’s to blame. The realization that it’s actually one planet and the human race that we all belong to, whatever our nationality, colour, creed, religion may be. Political boundaries or religion are just man made concepts artificially dividing us out”.

“True. But how much further do we have to climb up? It’s already quite dark “said Sarah Nina stopped for a moment.  My legs are aching,” she said.

Som came to her side. “I had no idea that the Tiger Hill Bungalow was such a distance ahead. Or I wouldn’t have let go of the cab by any means! ”.

All of them stopped for a while so that Nina could be at pace with them, wouldn’t be left behind .Don sat on a rock on the roadside, quite a large one, of a kind of stone typically found in the Himalayas. It was darkish in colour, but pebbles and stones of different hues were to be found in the nearby streams.

“Although the Tiger Hill Bungalow can be seen from here, every time we turn at the bend of the winding mountain path up hill, it seems to slip back !” he said.

“Absolutely an illusion of vision”. Said Som “But what’s to be done ? We have no alternative but to carry on.” At this point, Sarah popped a question that sent shivers down their spine.

“I was just wondering why this is called Tiger Hill “.

Nina’s quire’ followed “Hmm. Very relevant question.”

“Why ? Can you tell me why?

“Uh-huh-why is it called Tiger Hill – what a silly question”. Said Don. Although he pretended to waive Sarah’s querys aside as baseless, they were all actually disturbed by the thought that it was not entirely impossible that there might be tigers in the Himalayan forests around. Perhaps it was on account of the wild life here, that the hillock had been thus named.

“Come on, let’s pull ourselves up and start walking …” Said Som. The chirping of crickets, flickering of glow worms, rustling of leaves, chilly breeze filled their senses as they kept trudging on with their back packs, bags and hover sacks.

Don took Nina’s bag from her, and slung it on his own shoulder. After about twelve minutes over an hour, the gates of the famous Tiger Hill Bungalow loomed large in front of their eyes.

“Oh, my God, we’re made it !” exclaimed Sarah.

“Gee, Wowl !” said Nina., “What a beautifully maintained garden !”

It was after quite a while that they managed to complete the checking in formalities which mentioned them to be students. These days identification documents were required for the purpose and Som had reminded his friends to carry their id cards at the very outset of the journey.

But once they stepped in, it seemed as if they had entered a magic world of luxury, lavishness, delight and comfort, worth all the trouble that had been taken to arrive. The fire place crackled with the aroma of pine wood, with a grand bar counter done up in glass and mirror work at the other end of the huge lounge.

“Look at the paneling, it’s done up in mahogany with gold plating at the sides “. “Said Sarah in a half whispering, soft tone, somewhat awestruck at the posh, plush interiors of the bungalow. They had expected it to be a bit run down, sort of dilapidated since they knew that the structure dated back to the days when India was a colony of the British.

The manager at the reception counter followed her gaze and smiled. “You like it? We’re trying to do our best to maintain it” he said.

Nina nodded. “You’re done a great job. We hadn’t expected such on old bungalow to remain so glitzy ……”

“Hmmm”….. Said the manager. “This is one of the few British bungalows which the Gorkhaland activists have not been able to raze down”.

Som signed the register and looked at the manager.

“You seem to be a son of the soil, from this area. Why do you think these activists burn down these beautiful relics of the past, kill people, destroy institutions and buildings when they don’t have ability to create new ones of the same standard? What sort of movements are these which wreck independent India?”

The manager shrugged. “I just don’t understand, Sir, I won’t get into political discussions” he said, as he dropped his voice and added, “    Their representatives are all around, you see. There might be eavesdroppers – who knows?”

“What a terrible situation” exclaimed Don “An atmosphere in which people are scared to speak out or express themselves …..

The manager cleared his voice and changed the subject

“Come, I’ll show you to your rooms” he said and called the porter. “So you’re all friends out on vacation”.

“Yup. We need two rooms next to each other. One room for the girls, and one for us boys.

“Can’t help saying that’s interesting ….” The manager blurted out.

Don chuckled “I can make out you had a question or two in your mind about our identities and the relationship between us, but must have thought it had manners to ask out loud ….”

The manager threw an embarrassed smile “I can’t say you’re wrong, young man”.

“We’ll, it’s like this. All of us went to the same co-ed school as kids. We’re been growing up together, classmates right from Kindergarten. Hence we’ve just pals and buddies, almost like family. If Sarah has a problem with her boy friend, she pours her heart out to me, if I’m planning to date a pretty chick on the block, I don’t hesitate to Nina’s her advice”. Said Don with a laugh.

“Right” said Nina “you see gender roles fast transforming in this ever changing world, in which men and women are coming up as equals, even in urban circles of the third world. Young girls are becoming doctors, engineers, politicians, journalists. They’re not objectified any longer. Their education, skills, knowledge, intelligence cannot be waived aside to place them just as objects of pleasure for menfolk”.

Som smiled, “How intensely you’re speaking! I can make out you feel very strongly about these  subjects. Quite a feminist!”

“Don’t you tease me !”

‘Stop it. Nina, just see what a grand room we’re been given. Drag your bags in …..”

“Beautiful ! But I have something more to say on this subject ….”

“Okay”, we’ll hear your sermon at the dinner table …..” said Som

“Or over a drink …..” Don gushed out”. I’ve heard about a drink called chhong people of this region delight in”.

“Chhong! What a funny name! But I’d like to try it.

“Does it contain alcohol?”

“Of course!  Hilly folks love to drink.”

“Do you know how it’s served?  Chhong is served in bamboo poles, piping hot to perk one up in winter.”

“Let’s try it tomorrow…” Can we?

“Why not? But let’s freshen up first, unpack and settle down for cocktails”.

A little white later, they were conversing merrily in the bar on the ground floor. Apart from the bar counter and bar stools, there were four and six sitter tables which several other guests and residents were occupying. Apart from a few locals, most of them seemed to be tourists. Recorded music was being played in the background, only to be switched off from time to time, so that live music could be rendered. A couple of local singers crooned Hindi songs, adding cheer and colour to the ambience.

They had already ordered their cocktails, when the stuart come to their table. “Ma’m and Sir, What will you prefer for dinner?

“Apart from Indian and Continental food, our chef prepares some unique recipes which date back from the era of the British Raj”.

“Oh, really? How interesting!”

“Yup. Some of the British colonists who came to India developed relationships with local Indian women and even had children by them, who grew up to be known as Anglo Indians. Their lifestyle and culture carried elements of both worlds – Western and Oriental; and so did their cuisine, have intermingled influences”.

“So what sort of Anglo Indian food can you serve for us to try out?”

“Dishes like sausage curry, Patricia Memsaab’s baked fish on spinach with lemon butter or Molly Malone prawns. I’ll get the menu card for you. There are others items too”.

It was when they were tucking into dinner that Sarah first noticed him.

She nudged Nina. “The man in the white shirt in the corner there. Can you recognize him?”

Nina nodded. “Hmmm” she said.

Don and Som turned their heads to take a look. Their glances seemed to make the man uncomfortable. He fidgeted for a moment and got up, stepping towards the washroom.

Once he returned to his seat, Sarah came over to his table. “John, Jonardan ………” she lisped. “You did so much for us ……. You had sponsored our college plays, when no one else came forward to help us , our short films, art exhibitions …. You deeply understood our creative urge.”

The man hung his head, expressionless. He was Janardan Ray, popularly known as John. He had proved to be a very successful entrepreneur, a self made man who had created a virtual business empire within the span of half a decade. Many people wondered how he had been able to achieve so much in an industrially backward West Bengal, and where the funds had been generated from.

He slowly lifted his head. “I guess you’ve read about my situation, haven’t you?”

“Not really …. actually, I was  busy studying for the final exams before setting out  for vacation. Couldn’t catch up with the news much ; but Oh yes, I do vaguely remember having heard something  concerning you wafting from the news on television blaring from the next room . What’s the matter ?”

“The police are after me after the Central Bureau of Investigation sent summons.”

“Oh my God ! “

John sighed “I’m on the run now. Absconding.”

“Absconding!”

Yes, I need a little time to arrange and organize my legal papers”.

Sarah looked at him in the eye. “I know you’re clean! Who would know better than us, what you’re like … My God! The amount of time and co-operation you spared for us ………. And I know it’s not only me, or us, it’s widely known what a philanthropist you are, as to how you reach out to help people, how you create jobs. Even ordinary people whom you don’t known seek you out when in need or problem”.

“Do you know how the problem stemmed?”

“How?”

John cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you how.  Perhaps that’ll help me unwind. I haven’t talked to anyone for long”.

“Do tell me”

“Some of the ministers in power started tapping me for bribes, some sent party cadres and other enmissioneries to request donations for party funds in lieu of which they promised me co-operation and help from their end, too. It’s not that I needed their help in any way, whatsoever. I don’t think any minister has ever contributed anything to manufacturing or creating – not even a grain of crop has been produced by any politician. They just interfere and slacken productive activity”.

“I know, John. It’s free trade and private enterprise that strengthen an economy. Yet harassed here” said Sarah here said Sarah, to which John said with a sigh “ After all it’s entrepreneurs who jobs…”

Sarah nodded. “I know. After independence, Nehru inclined towards the Soviet Union – I mean the Russian lobby and laid the foundation of India on Socialist lines. This system was strapped with red tape. At every step, an entrepreneur or anyone trying to set up a venture had to and still has to seek permission from the government. Has to apply for permits and licenses. This ensures scope of bribery and unnecessary interference”.

“Exactly so” said John”: That was probably exactly why this happened to me. Initially I gave in to their requests whenever I could, by donating for party funds and even paying up for personal requirements of certain influential politicians. I had to contribute for a ministers’ daughter’s wedding running into lakhs. After a certain point this told badly on my business. My seed money, and working capital diminished. I didn’t have enough to keep the job going. Hardly enough to pay salaries and running infrastructure expenses, I had no option but to switch off my phone whenever they called and finally had to change my number altogether.”

“How devastating  and inconvenient !” What happened after that ?

Things were getting bad to worse. On one hand I was in debt, with my business falling apart, on the other hand the situation was such that these politicians were so used to squeezing me, that they got furious when they discovered me out of reach. They set the C.B.I. – Central Bereau of Intelligence against me to investigate my business. As you must be knowing, the rules and regulations of the Indian Government pertaining to business are complicated and vague. Some are almost absurd – nearly impossible to abide by each one of them and yet be able to run one’s business venture smooth. There are bound to be loopholes in documentation, tax irregularities labour laws. Such was the case with me. The police issued a warrant against me, and I had no option but to abscond until my lawyers got my defence ready”.

“How did you arrive here ? Did you catch a flight till Bagdogra or was it a train you took?”

“Are you mad ! :Taking a flight or boarding a train was sure to have landed me into their net. I knew the police were keeping vigil on all airports,  and railway stations., It  was by car that I came”.

“Oh my God!. You drove all the way down”.

John nodded. “I sure did. Not only that – I switched and swapped cars at some points. The prospect of using any of my own cars would have been risky, since the police had all the numbers. At starting point, I used my secretary Ava’s car, which was, of course, given to her from our company, but no one knew I had paid for it. Ava had always been dear to me because of her extreme sincerity and loyalty towards me. This beautiful young lady did not hesitate to say, I want to go with you, sir, take me along. You’re done so much for me, and my family, helped my father get well, bought us an apartment so that we have a roof over our heads. It was only because of you that I could finish my secretarial course. You insisted that I continued with my Master’s degree, when I have given up, setting out to earn for my family, being it’s only earning member.”

 

(To be continued…)