Amartya Ganguly is the only son of a Bengali Brahmin family from Bardhaman. And if you’ve lived in the Bengal of 1980s and before, that sentence is enough to give you a mental picture of Amartya. You see, the concoction of traits that make up stereotypes in India is distributed quite liberally in all its states: for example, you have the dhokla, fafda gobbling Gujju bhai in Gurjrat, the topi-dhoti donning Marathi maanus in Maharashtra, and the quintessential Punjab-da-puttar capable of disrobing a sugarcane with just a snap of his pearly whites. But in that little ‘paaraa’ or colony of Bardhaman, the Babu Shona stereotype was as common and as apparent as the plot of a B-grade film in Bollywood.
Amartya was handfed till he was about the age of 17 and in class 12. Bhaat, aloo sheddo, macher jhol (rice, mashed potatoes and fish curry) followed by two pieces of *sandesh for lunch, and dinner was similar. Breakfast was loochi aloor torkari (potato curry and pooris) or cheede makha (flattened rice mashed with milk and mango or bananas). This high-carb diet showed up in Amartya’s rotund build and chubby cheeks. Add to that the curly mop of hair atop his brainy head, and he looked as cute as a cherub adorning a cathedral wall.
However, that charm faded as he entered puberty when he went straight from being cute and chubby to simply being fat! Those of you who have grown up in the 80s, know very well that that *Chitrahaar and body-shaming occupied the same high rank on the common man’s entertainment chart. Therefore, Amartya spent a lot of time being compared to species of the animal kingdom known for their massive girth. That he could not avoid. So, he got back at the world by keeping his nose stuck in his books. It helped him avoid eye contact and unnecessary conversation with others.
As a result, he was the smartest, nay the brightest … nay.. that’s wrong too… Let’s just say he was the class topper in his school right from class 1 to 12 or ‘Uccho Madhyomik’. This was a matter of extreme pride for Amartya’s mother who frequently boasted to the neighbouring boudis about her ‘Babu Shona’. There was just one problem with all of this. The pride of the family, the Babu Shona himself, often felt stifled and would be on the verge of revolt… if only he could manage to out-talk his mother.
So, Amratya waited to set a plan in motion to escape his Fort Knox. He had to finish his Uccho Madhyomik with marks that made his parents super proud and garnered him a seat in IIT Kharagpur. His focus, hard work, and (if you looked at it from his point of view) his dedication into planning his escape from Bardhaman worked out exactly the way that he wanted.
There was feasting at home, and hollering across terraces that Amartya had topped the state and could have chosen any IIT had he wanted to, but Kharagpur was close to home and he would be able to visit his mother often to prevent her from crying a river and flooding the Ganges. The parents fussed as to what he would take in his black trunk bearing the words Amartya Ganguly, IIT- His clothes, a quilt, Bata sandals , Jabakushum hair oil, and his handy dandy first aid kit with Gelusil and Boroline.
The D-day arrived and for the first time in his life, Babu Shona insisted that he needed to make this journey on his own. He could just hop on to the unreserved coach in one of the numerous trains from Bardhaman to Kharagpur and in 3 to 4 hours he would be at his destination. He explained to his parents that he needed to do this on his own, or else how would he get back home on his own for the holiday? After a bit of tantrums and tears, his mother reluctantly agreed that her Babu Shona had grown up into a sensible man and it would be best for him to take his own decisions.
As the train left the station, he could see his father standing and waving for a long time, while his mother ran alongside as far as she could. It was as if someone was tearing a limb from her body and sending it away to Kharagpur. Once he could see his parents no more, Amartya went back to where his trunk was placed in the unreserved compartment and sat down on it heaving a sigh of relief. The train was crowded, but he had never felt this free. There was a little excitement, a little fear, and so much of freedom that he wanted to talk to everyone in the coach. Not everyone was interested, but there were a few looking at him and wondering how this soft little dumpling was traveling alone. He saw a couple of ‘chaengras’ or ‘good-for-nothing young fellows’ studying him with amusement.
“Ki go, dada? Girlfriend achey?” they drawled in a tone typical of chaengras asking Amartya if he had a girlfriend.
Amartya had to think quickly lest the question turn into a bullying session.
“tare ami chokhe dekhini…” Amartya burst into a popular Bengali film song that said that he hadn’t seen her yet, but he had heard a lot of stories about her…”
The chaengras liked his witty response and they all started singing songs together turning the journey into a happy one.
Amartya smiled to himself.
Amartya- 1, big bad world outside Bardhaman – 0.
He was pepped up with enthusiasm and newfound confidence in his wits. He would be fine he thought to himself. And about that girlfriend... he would get one... soon, even though ma would probably try her strong-arm tactics to make him believe that he chose a girlfriend that she, in fact, had already chosen for him.
University was much more than he had ever imagined. There was a whole lot between the pages of books, but there was so much more outside those pages too. He got into the habit of cycling early in the morning before the mess opened for breakfast, and without ma’s overfeeding his fat was soon replaced by lean muscle. Girls started noticing him and that made him bloom even more!
It was on one of his morning cycling routines that he met Gouri. She was walking along the university roads with glucose biscuits in hand feeding all the stray dogs in the campus. He found that cute. As he was staring at her, his cycle almost bumped into one of the strays. Gouri, stomped up to him almost pulling him up by the collar.
“Do you have eyes or potatoes?” She snarled.
Amartya was held spellbound as no girl had touched him like that before for as long as he could remember. He could not take his eyes off her angry face. Somehow, she seemed even more angered by that fact!
“Sorry. I’m sorry” He blabbered as he patted her head though he had reached out to pat the dog.
“Baffoon!” she said and focused her attention on the dog, which seemed perfectly fine and proceeded to pee on Amartya’s cycle.
Amartya quietly picked up his cycle that had fallen during the altercation and started back to his hostel room. He sneaked a look at his watch. He would now delay his cycling routine a little to match with this girl’s walk timings.
Slowly but surely, Amartya, befriended the dogs with bribes of Parle G, but he did not have any clue about the kind of bribe that would get him into the girl’s good books. Then one day, just as he was feeding the dogs on one side of the street and she on the other. She crossed over to his side and said hi.
He almost stumbled on his own foot and the girl burst into peals of laughter.
“Sorry, I’m Amartya!” he smiled sheepishly and proffered his hand for a handshake.
“Oh, that’s sad!” said the girl cheekily.
When Amartya looked a tad confused, she giggled and explained that indeed it was a sad situation that he was sorry about being Amartya. A friendship slowly blossomed and soon Amartya could actually boast about having a ‘girlfriend’!
But this is not a love story. The turning point came after a good few months when Amartya slowly lost his rose-tinted glasses and began recognizing Gouri as a domineering vigilante. He seemed to be stuck in a pattern! Escaping from the clutches of one domineering woman only to willfully rush into the arms of another one!
This time he seemed to have lost all fight. His new crown as Gouri’s ‘Babu Shona’ came with thorns that pricked him too often.
“Babu Shona, can you go and buy me some biscuits for the dogs, pleeeeese?”
“And while you are at it can you also get me a packet of 4 Square cigarettes?”
“Oh! And don’t leave just yet, can you take this book and return it to Poltu, his room is in block 3, right next to the cigarette shop.”
Her list of demands was endless and his job, he realized was thankless.
What was worse was that her other male friends were complete weirdos. One played the guitar all day, the other never shaved or took a haircut and smoked something that smelled funny. And Poltu? He had a male and a female monkey in his room! He called them Shundor and Shundori. Amartya was not sure what kind of intoxicants Poltu was on that made him believe that he would train those monkeys to do odd jobs for him and maybe one day appear for exams in his place. Anyway, Amartya was thrown into the company of Poltu, Shundor and Shundori once too often thanks to Gouri.
Time does what it does best, it passed while Poltu failed in providing options for contraception to Shundor and Shundori, and they were soon blessed with a little baby! Amartya couldn’t quite fathom how it came to pass that he became in charge of looking after the little one. Gouri had her hands full with the dogs, and Poltu was so filled with remorse on seeing the birthing process that he was considering taking up ‘sanyas’.
“Look at this little baby, Babu! How cute, how can you not want to adopt him?”, Gauri coaxed him while thrusting little baby monkey in his arms.
Amartya had no choice but to look at the baby monkey’s cute face and fall irrecoverably in love with him. So, now Amartya belonged to the group of students that defied hostel laws and did illegal things like rearing monkeys in their rooms. He could not believe the high that belonging to the “Bad Boys” gang gave him!
Amartya named the baby monkey Chaengra and slowly found himself loving its company. Point to be noted here is that the growth of his love for Chaengra was inversely proportional to his love for Gouri. As one increased, the other turned to aversion.
In all the rush of college life, more than 8 months had passed and Amartya had not visited home even once. The frequency of telegrams from home saying “wire welfare” was increasing, and that prompted Amartya to drop everything and plan a trip home. Besides, he wanted to get away from Gouri. But that was not to be! Gouri was now dreaming marriage and wanted to visit his home with him, making it clear to everyone in that paaraa in Bardhaman that she was slated to be the new Ganguli bahu.
So that Saturday morning at 6 am, Amartya, Chaengra, and Gouri boarded the general compartment of the first train to Bardhaman. It was early on a Saturday morning. Both Amartya and Gouri found seats on the train for a change. Chaengra was hidden inside a loose cotton bag and was allowed to peek out once in a while. It would not do to have fellow passengers take objection to the ticketless monkey on the train. As station after station passed, Chaengra got comfortable in the bag and even started playing peek-a-boo with other passengers keeping them amused. No one had seen such a scene earlier and they found it good entertainment. Till around 8:00 am which was Chaengra’s potty time.
As the clock ticked, Amartya got increasingly worried about what would happen if Chaengra could no longer hold it in. A secret plan started taking shape in his mind. In case of the eventuality, the cotton bag was thick and sturdy enough to hold semi-solids without leaking. He just had to hold the mouth of the bag tight and not let Chaengra out till they reached home. As for the smell, Amartya would pretend it was one of the other passengers in the coach. Gouri of course was not to be bothered by such trivial thoughts and was busy reading Das Kapital by Karl Marx.
It was around 8:45 when the inevitable happened. Chaengra had been squirming and squealing inside the bag for 15 minutes before Amartya felt the bag get as warm as a hot water bottle. In another 20 minutes or so they would be in Bardhaman. Their home was a 5-min walking distance from the station which meant he would have to test his grip strength on the neck of the cotton bag for the next 25 minutes only. Not an unachievable task! But then, people started holding their hankies against their noses and throwing angry glances in every direction.
“Everything is under control…, no one will know!” Amartya reassured himself in his mind. It was just that Gowri was glaring at him… that could be a dead giveaway. Stupid girl!
“Just one more station and then Bardhaman”, Amartya consoled Gouri.
Everything would have gone according to plan but Murphy’s Law was stronger than any of the laws of physics. A hawker got on to the coach at that station and began singing about his wares- flutes and whistles of all shapes, sizes and sounds. He began with the most dangerous one of them all, one that sounded like a high-pitched foghorn. One blow of that and all hell broke loose.
In the struggle of equal and opposite forces on the bag being exerted by Amartya and Chaengra, Chaengra literally ‘came out’ the victor!
Passengers retched and puked at the sight and putrid smell that followed once the monkey was out of the bag. Seeing the commotion, the stool-smeared Chaengra got so frightened that he clung on to Amartya’s head, smearing him in the gooey mess from shoulders upwards. Gouri, of course, ran to the other end of the coach puking in disgust.
For the first time in his life, Amartya got to experience the free space one gets in first-class compartments in the confined space of the general coach that day. All the rest of the passengers had rushed to assemble like a bunch of sardines close to the door, each one gasping for a breath of fresh air and turning around to mouth expletives at Amartya intermittently. Amartya just sat there alone, a sorry figure with a monkey around his neck.
Amartya’s parents were eagerly waiting at the platform as the first train from Kharagpur to Bardhaman rolled in. The train chugged past one coach at a time as it slowed down in speed. Amartya’s parents peered at each one carefully. The first few coaches passed by normally. A few people standing at the door with bags, and the rest would perhaps still be sitting inside.
It was the screaming and yelling from one particular coach that first caught Amartya’s mother’s attention. They stood there foxed wondering what was happening. 50 necks seemed to be craning out from the door and a few faces were pressed against the bars of the window with grotesque expressions on their faces, and then passengers flung themselves out from the coach even before the train had slowed down amply. It was one of the General compartments, the ones that Amartya travelled in.
Amartya walked the whole distance to his home 10 paces behind his parents with Gauri staying a further 10 paces away from him. It was his domineering mother’s *‘Chandi Roop’ that turned into a blessing in disguise at the end of this whole episode.
As they approached the gate, his mother’s booming voice commanded them to stop outside. She then fetched a hose pipe and turned the motor on to aim a forceful stream of water directly at the monkey and Amartya’s torso. Chaengra clung on for a minute before squealing and scampering up a nearby coconut tree. Once the monkey was off his neck, ma turned her focus on to Gouri, without changing the direction of the water spout.
“YOU!” she threatened menacingly.
“You’re the one at the root of all of this, and you dare keep a distance from him after putting him through this ordeal? GET OUT! You will know the worst side of a benevolent woman like myself if you don’t leave this instant!”
Gouri didn’t need to hear any more from the belligerent woman in front! She stomped off for good leaving Amartya with a strange feeling of freedom again!
Glossary:
Sandesh – a sweetmeat from Bengal
Chitrahaar- A program on Doordarshan that showed Bollywood songs
Chandi Roop- the ferocious and terrifying visage of Goddess Kali on being angered.