WEST BENGAL- DAY 2
Jan 26th – REPUBLIC DAY
FESTIVITIES- NATIONAL, STATE & PERSONAL
Dawn breaks silently by the Bhagirathi. The river itself is shrouded in a mist, though its endless journey continues ceaselessly. The silence is mildly broken by music floating across the river from the opposite bank. Today is the auspicious Republic Day and Saraswati Puja, an extremely important festival in West Bengal. Today also happens to be an auspicious day for weddings, including the one at Lal Gola. It’s a festive time, in so many ways, almost equal to the famed Durga Puja.
As the mighty sun shines in its daily attendance, the haze enveloping the river lessens. The trees along the opposite river bank remain enwrapped in a fine film of cover, giving the surroundings an almost ethereal feel. Meanwhile, this side of the bank is now clearing, though dew drops are visible everywhere. The residents of Room Kohitoor are ready. Here, all rooms ( 24 in total)are named either after a species of Mango or by one of the names of the mighty Ganges. Kohitoor is a mango species.
The friendly server at the breakfast table begins a conversation. Not many outside the State come to Murshidabad. He is curious. “Aha”, he smiles almost enlightened, “ a wedding. You have travelled far. That is nice of you.” Little does he know that the wedding is only an excuse. A visit to his State is the primary factor. Leaving him contented, the entourage, Sabir included is soon off to Lal Gola again. It’s the morning of the Haldi ceremony.
A UNIQUE ROYAL COMPLEX- RAJBARI
With the festivities and scrumptious lunch over, the visitor mode gets on again. Sabir drives to Rajbari, about a km or two away. Rajbari is the residential complex of the Rajah of Lal Gola, now converted into a public place and inter-college. The Rajah’s palace, now decrepit is still retained by the family, its gates locked tell that the family no longer stays there. The mandir of Kali, though, is open to the public. The Mandir is more like an ashram and one of the most beautiful seen anywhere. The shade of the trees, its colourful graffiti walls, and its huge covered platform for the weary pilgrim to rest give it a special feel. The image of Kali is tied in gold and chained to an elevated stand. The local folklore goes that just as Kali was leaving the town after a visit, the residents resisted and tied her down with a gold chain thus ensuring that she never left the place.
Today, the day of Saraswati Puja seems more like a mini-Valentine day. Young people dressed in their best are everywhere. It is the day of official dates with parental permissions and all want to make the best of it. Later, on return to the hotel, the scene is much the same. Young people, a little older than the ones seen in the morning, probably better off, are enjoying the late afternoon, watching the idyllic river by the banks. The girls are swinging in abandon and the young men, ahem, are gently pushing them.
But the evening is yet far off. Right now, the day is proceeding. From Lal Gola, the next stop is Kath Gola and to the old colonial-style palace of the district’s erstwhile richest business family, the Duggars, now converted into a public museum. The palace premise can house a town in itself and there’s a 10 min walk before the main complex building arrives. The pathway is strewn with tall trees, their combined shades providing much relief.
On both sides are immense lands mostly converted to orchards, with statues of the male Duggar family members dotting the landscape. The man-made pond opposite the palace heightens the imposing edifice of the building. Western figurines, strategically placed, tell of colonial history too. While the palanquins displayed in the long corridors talk of a traditional past, the wrought iron benches and tables seem to have got made especially for the ‘English sahib and memsahibs‘ to play mahjong in the evenings when the temperatures would cool off.
The inside of the palace houses family memorabilia, paintings, photographs, curios, art décor, et al. But what stands out is the small, quaint library of leathered books, numbering around 200, gently kept in glass cabinets. The cabinets are opened and the books are aired twice a year in a very delicate procedure as the pages have crystallised and can tear apart on the human touch.
HAZAARDWAARI PALACE
Sabir next moves on to the most famed building in Murshidabad, the Hazaardwaari Palace. If Kath Gola is equivalent to a town, Hazaardwaari is a city. The huge Italian and Greek-style palace complex, now under the ASI was built for the Nawab Humanyun Jan by the British architect Col. Duncan Macleod in the mid-19th century. The palace has 1000 doors, hence the name. Most of the rooms today have got converted into a museum where are housed some of the largest oil paintings in the country, stunning chandeliers, and other art-deco remnants of the royal family. The armoury museum, though generally a pass-by must not be missed here. It houses the sword of the ill-fated Siraj-ud-daulah.
The rush of the holiday crowd enjoying the afternoon almost tempts one to stay on, but the evening festivities call.
FINALLY ON THE BHAGIRATHI
The plan to get dressed and move on for the wedding gets delayed as soon as the Manager announces the availability of the river cruise. It will have to be of a reduced time, but excitement runs galore nonetheless. Suman Biswas, the boatman begins the 4 km boat ride by manually starting the engine.
The serene, quiet river is incredibly beautiful. Haze is beginning to settle in. Pointing to the encompassing mist, Suman says “That is the way to Kolkatta (calkata as the locals call it). “ As the boat reaches mid-stream, leaving the land far away, dusk sets in. The buildings on land light up to a hundred twinkles.
On the other side of the bank, loud traditional music can be heard. As the boat nears, a marriage party, comprising mostly women becomes visible. This is part of the pre-wedding ceremony. They are walking in a row towards the river, their yellow sarees adding a dash of colour to the landscape. Most of them are carrying brass pots in which they begin filling water, the older among them and therefore more daring jump in and have a swim, the coldness of the water notwithstanding. “This is a tradition that goes back ages”, explains Suman.
Meanwhile, with the wedding being the priority, Suman is made to turn around and soon the river bank gets reached. “My uncle lives in Patel Nagar,” says Suman in a final talk. “I have visited him a few times” he continues as he bids goodbye.
INTERESTING POLLOSHREE
Village Polloshree where the bride waits for her groom is about 2.5 hours away. Sabir arrives soon and a new adventure begins. But, there is a hitch. The saree pleats open up mysteriously. It has to be re-worn and more safety pins added. Seeing that this malfunction is repeatedly occurring, perhaps some serious thinking is needed on managing the unmanageable.
Villages and small towns are winding up for the day, the roads are becoming quieter. The omnipresent petrol filling stations keep shining through. A few km before village Polloshree arrives, the road comes to a dead end. Mud and gravel take over and the drive becomes bumpier by the minute. The village finally arrives. It is quite far away from the main road and looks like an abandoned mining station.
A group of villagers, presumably not invited to the festivities, are engrossed in singing bhajans in a makeshift mandir. A cow and the proverbial village dog keep them company from a distance.
“The vehicle”, announces Sabir ominously “cannot go further.” It seems the broken dirt road too ends here. So the small group dressed in all finery trek along to the destination, crossing a semi-broken bridge and a ditch en route bravely.
It’s well past midnight when the same small group makes its way back, this time a little more alert. The roads are dark and silent, save for a passing truck or two, and a dimly lit tea shop where some men are enjoying a midnight tea break. Sabir drives faster now, but fear of the unknown doesn’t set in. West Bengal truly is a very safe place to be.
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