A Town by the River is a fictional tale that revolves around Anirban, the protagonist, his college days, his first love and brief flirtation with left-wing politics considered fashionable in those days and his childhood. The first few chapters of the book dwell at length on the prevalent political situation when political parties were tremendously hostile to one another. Vendettas by way of slaying were a common sight. Several young lives were lost in such turbulent political situations. Stringing together a variety of events and characters in a narrative canvas, the book focuses on the time and life in a small town, where the townsfolk, especially the kids, always welcomed carefree excitements from otherwise subdued life, be it in the form of festivities, football matches or simple outings. The strength of the book lies in its descriptive details of the milieu, the people and more importantly, the charming river. Earthy smell and myriad of colours and the river that lazily went past the town held a special attraction for the young and old. Notwithstanding the undertone of caste and religion, the townsfolk cherished human relationships that transcended the religious divide. Its poignant style of narration would appeal to a wide readership beyond the geographical boundaries.
A Town by the River
By Jayanta RayAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Jayanta Ray
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-5415-1Contents
Prologue...................................................1Last journey...............................................26The silent river...........................................40The rendezvous.............................................47Rahim Chacha - the soul mate...............................64Community service..........................................69Mohidul - the comrade-in-arms..............................80Vacation diary.............................................108The bridge on the river....................................115Cucumber slices and the game of soccer.....................124Bijon Sir - the private tutor..............................136Montu-da, the ace marksman.................................147A stroll in a mango orchard................................155Death in the family........................................174
Chapter One
Last journey The Sun receive thine eye, the Wind thy spirit; go, as thy merit is, to earth or heaven. Go, if it be thy lot, unto the waters; go, make thine home in plants with all thy members. -The Hymns of the Rig Veda, Ralph T. H. Griffith (Book X Hymn XVI, 3)
Anirban had his gaze fixed on the funeral pyre of Baba. The flames were at the mercy of the gusty wind blowing from the northern side.
Baba had gone to Calcutta during the weekend to visit his sister and the family, where he suffered a fatal stroke. Since they didn't have a telephone at home, Ani's uncle contacted the shop owner down below their flat to inform the family.
"Anirban, come down fast! Your uncle from Calcutta on the line," the shop owner yelled. He immediately rushed down to receive the call. Uncle gave him the bad news and asked them to come over to Calcutta immediately. After hearing about it, Ma steeled herself to prepare for the journey and perform the last rites. She locked the house and informed the neighbour of Baba's sudden death. Soon they were on the way to the station to catch the earliest train.
During the journey, she neither cried nor talked; she just sat like a statue. It was her way of grieving for her husband of several years. Upon reaching her sister-in-law's place, Ma burst into a wail over Baba's dead body.
Uncle, his son and a few others including a local priest accompanied the body to the crematorium, where Ani had to perform the last rites. After taking a mandatory bath in the dirty water and change of clothes at the crematorium Ghat, he made a quick decision to go back home immediately. He was not cut out to observe mourning rituals.
"Pisemasai, I intend going back home tomorrow. Maybe Ma could come back after a few days and obsequies could be performed at home. I'm sorry! You had to face a lot of trouble all of a sudden."
"Ani, you don't have to be sorry! Birth and death can never be predicted. Life is full of uncertainties." He answered rather philosophically.
Upon return he told Ma of his plan to go back home.
Stunned by the turn of events, she didn't offer any resistance to Ani's plan.
"OK! You go home! What about your food?"
"You don't worry about that. Our friendly neighbour would surely take care of it." Perhaps, having understood the reason, Ma didn't object to his going back home alone and gave him some money for the journey and other expenses.
"No problem! Let him go back tomorrow. We'd all go together to your place after 3-4 days to perform Dada's obsequies." Uncle nodded in approval.
Next day, he took the 9 o'clock train bound for Baharampur. Being a passenger train, it stopped at every station. The compartment was getting crowded with more and more people boarding. Once the seats were full, people sat on the floor that made movement inside the compartment very difficult. Ani, however, remained rooted to the window seat he had occupied in the beginning. Looking through the open window was difficult at times because of air-borne dust particles.
The ticket collector in his trademark black coat made a perfunctory check of tickets from bona fide passengers, and collected reduced fare in cash from ticket-less travellers without issuing any tickets.
Vendors hawking various products like hair oil, plastic combs, chocolates, ball pens etc. made a raucous noise. Trying to be oblivious to the cacophony around, Ani indulged in his favourite avocation of cloud watching. He fixed his gaze on a mass of snow-white cloud against the backdrop of a brilliant blue sky; then carved various figures with an imaginary chisel. As the train gained speed, these masterpieces too got lost in the distant horizon. It was passing by a paddy field, already harvested, by the side of a school building. The kids were playing around during the break in an open ground near the railway track. Ani silently prayed that they didn't come on to the track.
In a pensive mood, he tried to assess the quandary he was in. For namesake, he was a graduate. But his degree couldn't yet remove his unemployed status. He had attended a few interviews. Timid as a lamb, he would submit himself to those boogers, euphemistically called interviewers.
More often than not, they would ask questions that had no bearing on the job he was seeking. He could never fathom why it was important to know the height of the tallest building on earth or who designed the Eiffel Tower. Nothing on the subjects he studied in his graduation programme was ever discussed. Nevertheless, a few of his friends could get jobs, thanks to their connections.
Rise in unemployment brought happiness to the political party scouts who were always on the lookout for young people to go to the villages to work with peasants to usher in the dream revolution. They were certain that with unemployment on the rise, more and more jobless youth would join the ranks.
Ani was also concerned about another situation back home. A couple of weeks ago, on a rather dusky afternoon he had a friendly chat with one Mr. Adhikari in a tea- stall on the riverbank road. Adhikari, a hardy person with a closely cropped haircut, introduced himself as a businessman dealing in garments. Being an extremely affable person he could easily establish a rapport with Ani.
"Are you a student?"
"I've just completed graduation and am looking for a job."
"Getting a decent job for an educated youth like you must be difficult these days!" Adhikari remarked with a hint of sympathy.
"Yes, that is true! It is the reference that matters. Not the qualifications!"
After such banal talk, the tea-stall chat eventually petered into a political one. Adhikari lamented that due to intense police surveillance, the underground party leaders were lying low and avoiding contact with the cadres who are out in the open, and opined that it would affect the morale of the party cadre.
"It isn't quite true. Underground comrades regularly meet the party followers in safe houses here. In fact, I had had the chance to meet an underground leader in one such safe house." Since Ani was hobnobbing with the party, he contradicted Adhikari in his youthful exuberance.
"That's good news! After all, meeting senior comrades in person motivates the cadre to keep their spirit high. Otherwise the party would simply disintegrate." He went on further, "Don't take me amiss for being a businessman. I always cherish the communist ideals and never try to exploit those who work with me." He was getting closer to Ani's heart.
His initial scepticism about Adhikari vanished into thin air.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to make a donation for the party. Maybe you could tell me whom I should meet in this regard." Adhikari offered the bait.
"That won't be a problem! I think, a meeting is coming up next week in the Temple Street hideout. I'd let you know the time and date."
It was his disposition that prompted Ani into unwittingly divulging the location of the hideout.
"Thanks a lot! It would be a great moral booster for me. I can't personally join you all in the struggle for ushering in a new era but I'd able to offer some material assistance, howsoever small it may be."
"Yes, everybody can't be in the forefront. The party likes such gestures from sympathisers."
It reaffirmed Ani's callow belief that not all businessmen are reactionaries.
It was past sundown. The tte--tte ended with Adhikari promising him a job in his shop till he got something better.
After some days, Mohidul, his trusted friend since school days, told him that police had raided the party's hideout in Temple Street and picked up a party whole-timer from there for interrogation. Nothing serious, but the party lost one hideout and a comrade! He also confided that a party source had seen Ani chatting with Adhikari in the riverbank tea-stall who happened to be a police sleuth.
"I had no idea that the guy was a police informer. Besides, we discussed the general political situation." He didn't want to talk about his inadvertent rattling on the hideout.
"I agree, but you should be wary of talking to unknown persons these days. Otherwise, you're asking for trouble. To please the party bosses, some stupid cadre wouldn't hesitate to eliminate you on the pretext of being a renegade." Mohidul offered a friendly piece of advice.
Since then, Anirban became quite apprehensive of the action squad run by the party thugs. However, he chose to believe that the party would condone the Adhikari incident as a minor lapse.
The train had come to a halt by the side of a denuded sunflower field because of sudden chain pulling by some passengers who got down before the scheduled stop. Ani quickly collected his thoughts and tried to focus on the life ahead. Now that Baba was gone, he had to quickly get a job to join the ranks of pen pushers or be a party whole-timer on a meagre subsistence allowance. Both situations would call for curtailing his freedom. Fear of monotonous routine had kindled his desire to seek freedom. How? He didn't have an answer.
A middle-aged bespectacled person in short-sleeves sitting next to him in the compartment tried to engage him in conversation. He too must have got sick of the nuisance inside. "Are you going up to Krishnanagar?"
"No, beyond that!"
"I've to suffer this racket for a couple of hours or so. Travelling in such trains is ever so bothersome. Are you a student?"
"I've just completed my B.Sc."
"Good! Any plans to do M.Sc.? Or trying for a job?"
"It isn't easy to get a job these days."
"Yes, I agree! You must be around 20!"
"I'm nineteen, going on twenty!" He paraphrased a popular English song.
"Look at you! In such young age you are searching for a job! You should go for higher studies. But the universities have become breeding ground for revolutionaries. We are passing through a turmoil situation. Rising unemployment coupled with volatile political situation! Students of your age are sucked into the maelstrom of politics."
"By the way, what do you do?" Ani could not stop being nosy.
"I teach political science in a college."
"Sir, you are absolutely correct. We, the youth, are caught between the devil and the deep sea. Apolitical students find it difficult to remain indifferent to the political parties. The underground party and the moderates are vying with each other to attract the youth"
"My dear friend, in today's context, nobody is apolitical. Every human being has an opinion, at least a political one. The question is what must be done for one's own survival. In a practical world, ideology or opinion takes a back seat." He paused for a while to order tea from the vendor passing by. Being the senior, he didn't allow Ani to pay.
After finishing tea, they threw the earthen pots in the vacant land by the side of the railway track. The professor picked up the thread from where he left. "You see, both parties are opposed to the ruling party and its mode of exploitation, but they are never united in their fight against the government. I agree, demanding social justice, class-less society, redistribution of land among the landless has a mass appeal. But these objectives can never be met unless the battle is fought jointly."
To Ani's satisfaction, the professor could assess the situation in a dispassionate manner.
"That may not be possible, at least not for the time being. The underground party bosses are at daggers drawn with the moderates and accuse them of being revisionists." Not lagging behind, Ani tried to prove to be well informed.
"Jargons!" he evinced a noticeable distaste.
"This is nothing! We have enriched our political vocabulary with more fancied phrases like 'semi-feudal', 'neo-colonial', 'neo-revisionists, 'renegades' etc. But, I'm not sure whether we understand these terms well."
"You must be attracted towards the underground party. No doubt, it has a romantic appeal called 'revolution' to the students in search of adventure."
"To tell you frankly, students are branded depending on the political affiliations. One is considered conservative if he or she is a member of the students' wing of the rightist party. Most fashionable are those who champion the cause of armed struggle and class-war."
"And where do you rank the moderates?"
Ani was getting slightly wary of the professor because of the earlier incident with Adhikari. But throwing caution to the wind, he decided to continue the discussion.
"Ultra-left party bosses consider both moderates as well the ruling party as reactionary forces."
"Whatever may be ranking, my guess is that the underground party with so many splinter groups would soon lose its fervour. Armed struggle against the might of a nation is not a child's play! Besides, world's economic powers would try their best to keep their stranglehold on Third World Countries." The professor spoke like an adroit political analyst.
The train had stopped at a station. From the window, he could see the yellow and black board displaying the name of the station as Ranaghat. An old man on the platform suddenly cautioned him to keep his hand inside, as there had been instances of wristwatches being snatched from unsuspecting passengers. The train was to make a halt for about fifteen minutes, as a steam engine would replace the electric one.
"I'll get down to the platform for a few minutes. Please take care of my seat and the bag." Ani requested the professor after placing a hanky on the seat.
The platform was abuzz with activities. The porters in red shirts were busy in offloading goods from the train. The vendors were vying with one another for catching the attention of commuters. He stopped at the nearest vendor to buy a langcha, for which Ranaghat was famous. He thought of buying one more piece of the sweet for the professor, but decided against it. Before getting into the compartment, he bought a newspaper. By then many more new passengers were inside the compartment and were jostling for space. After elbowing a few of them, he reached his seat.
"Thank God! You've come! I had a tough time in preventing others from occupying your seat."
Ani muttered an apology and handed him the newspaper.
After some time, the train slowly chugged out of the station. Verdant landscape soon came in view replacing the old buildings that dotted the railway tracks near the station. He had to put down the shutter halfway because the engine was belching fine coal dust.
The professor had a cursory look at the newspaper and returned it to Ani. It was a welcome respite from analytical discussion. But having found an interested listener, he continued, "You see, there is no denying that the village 'Jotedars' have the last word regarding the tilling rights. Local peasants are exploited to the hilt. Most of them have to work without any wages to pay off the debt. What the farmers are getting in return for the hard work in the field is a pittance. Such oppression is the order of the day. So far, none dared to raise a voice against such ruthless exploitation. One must think of the Naxalbari movement against this background."
"The revolutionary group aims at carrying on class-struggle and free the land from the hands of feudal landlords." Ani added.
"Yes, these goals prompted the moderates to dissociate themselves from the hard-liners. It also caught the fancy of the youth that started denouncing the so-called 'bourgeoisie'-education. But the irony is that the votaries of armed struggle could not keep their flock together because of mushrooming of various splinter groups. The felony has been compounded by the infiltration of anti-social elements, who settled old scores in the name of 'actions'. On the one hand, you have the middle class parents who pin their hope on their children to earn a livelihood to support them in old age, and on the other, quite a few young lives were lost either in factional wars or in police encounters. You must have noticed that the movement has already lost the support of the middle class." The professor spoke as though he was a giving a lecture to his students in the college.
"Yes! These factional wars are working to the advantage of the ruling party, and you are right, these movements have antagonised the middle class people. A large part of our state has become a lawless zone. Nobody ventures out after 9 o'clock in the night."
"One thing, we must admit that though the movement has spread to tribal areas of other states, yet it continues to be a peripheral one. Wherever possible, the movement has been brutally crushed by the state forces. The zealots of ultra-left movement too eliminated several moderates and ruling party members, after branding them as enemies of the people."
Mere mention of the word elimination sent chill down Ani's spine. He hoped that the action squad would pardon him for committing a minor offence. Shrugging off the fear, he added, "You see, within the ultra-left, there are so many splinter groups. Party bosses talk of inner party democracy. I wonder why the contradictions cannot be thrashed out through discussions."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from A Town by the Riverby Jayanta Ray Copyright © 2009 by Jayanta Ray. Excerpted by permission.
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