My Sis: Through My Eyes (26)
Chapter (26) – A Uniting Force
My Sis, Tapasi, is just like any other traditional Indian sister who makes life smooth sailing and a roller coaster ride for her brother/s.
I don’t know how the novel I started last year, is going to end. She has stepped into her 60s and, by the grace of God, is still as fit as a fiddle (I dread to think what will happen to me if and when she is gone. How will I manage to move on in life without her presence?). The joy, happiness and vitality that she brings wherever she happens to be, is just something to be seen to be believed!
The night before last, I came to know though my call to her that she had applied for leave. By the time I called her she was waiting at the South Barasat station. When I called her next at around 1 O’clock in the afternoon, she had barely reached my brother’s at Paikpara. She let me talk to him for a while over the phone before assuring me that she would be at Deblane within the next hour or so.
She was at our ancestral 41, by 2 in the afternoon like a whirlwind, with a packet of the choicest mithai ( sweets) tucked in her hand along with half a kg of dahi ( sweet card).
Sis went up to her room, opened the almirah, pulled out some saris with other necessities and threw them in a bag . Throughout she kept asking me if I would like any of her things. We had a quick lunch. After a quick bath, we boarded a bus heading towards Sealdah station. It was only then she came to know of my intention of accompanying her to the BT College in Dakshin Barasat, which has been her address for the last one month or so. She tried her best to stop me from accompanying her. Finally, having realized the seriousness of my intention, she gave in with an air of helplessness. The journey by train from Sealdah to her recent place of posting, was like a dream. I relished journeying by the crowded compartment of the 3.15 Lakshmikantapur local. But what I enjoyed more was the sight of the lady selling fresh fish, sitting by the railway tracks and the amazing van ride!
For the reader, unfamiliar with the van ride, let me tell you that it is a roofed carriage drawn by an engine. The passengers sit with their legs hanging by the sides of the rectangular shaped, wooden van. The green, greenary all around, made me realize what I have been missing of Bhutan, lately.
Sis was sitting in a corner leaning on an iron rod supporting the roof. I was next to her, sitting in the middle. She had already introduced me to the chap selling tea at the place where we got off the auto rickshaw in order to get on the van. The pride with which she told me,”This is my area,” with a sweep of her hand over the tea stall, was something to be cherished for a lifetime. Sis has always been like this – unassuming, uncomplicated, with the joy de vivre.
As we neared our destination, she received a call from one Dipankar, an inmate of the Brittee Prashikshan Kendra or the BT College, informing her that he was making tea for his Mama (uncle) from Kolkata. I don’t know why but I took the call as a good omen.
No sooner had we stepped within the precincts than I heard some excited voices: Mama, kemon achho? (How do you do, Uncle?), Mama, amader sangay cricket khelbey esho. (Uncle, please join us for a game of cricket) and so on. The inmates of the hostel reminded me of the childhood days I would spend in Jiaganj, a rural retreat, in the north of Kolkata. The pristine beauty of the place in the backdrop of its historic importance ( Jiaganj is a fast-developing town in the district of Murshidabad, the capital of India during the rule of the Nawabs before the British Raj. There is another reason why I consider the place historical. My late father, J.C.Bhattacharjee, was the first Principal of Raja Sripat Singh College in the town. The local mogul, Sri Durga Shankar Bhatta was so very impressed with the young, iconic Principal that he came forward with a marriage proposal for my eldest sister with his second son, Mr.Prabha Shankar Bhatta, who, later on became a very prominent lawyer of the locality. My eldest sister was just 16 years at that time!
Do please read my blog on my eldest sister:http://masb6.blogspot.com/2013/12/tribute-totimeless-tapati.html?m=1) has always had a sobering, soothing influence on my life since my early childhood.
Anyway, the innocent inmates of Brittee Prashikshan Kendra took me back to those fun-filled days of my life. As Sis was showing me around, someone called, Dhruva, came forward and bent down to touch my feet. “Mama, kemon achho?” I was simply overcome with a strong mix of bitter-sweet feelings. Earlier what the bare essentials in the big room meant for my Sis, pained me. She is 60 now. A time when people her age, delight in playing their grandparently roles to perfection. Whereas my Sis is still struggling, fighting her own battles on her own terms. The Tapasi, I have no doubt about it, that will emerge in the days ahead, out of all these purification processes, will be pure gold. God bless my sister.
Dipankar, in the meantime, bought us some black tea with some biscuits. We had one more round in the kitchen, made especially for us by the cook. It was almost 6 in the evening. As I followed the Warden around, the boys playing volleyball ran up to the gate to be captured in my mobile.
“Mama, please abar esho,” (Come again, uncle), they echoed.
“Nischoi, ar takhon amra eksathey cricket khelbo” ( I surely will. We’ll play cricket together then). I bent down to touch the feet of my Sis then as I quietly thanked God for blessing me with such a selfless sister.
BPK, a government of India undertaking, is a true reflection of India, discharging yeomen’s service to the needy, rural youths (aged 18-35). This is what India should be like. Here people are meant to live like brothers in absolute harmony and peace, irrespective of religion, caste, creed or the color of the skin. I am happy to say that my Sis, has turned herself within a very short while, into an indispensable part of the organization.
Finally, Dipankar and one Md. Moyeen, accompanied us to the station, on our way back. Moyeen even squeezed himself into the queue to book the train ticket for me. I continued waving at them from inside the crowded compartment as the train started speeding past the receding figures of Moyeen and Dipankar.
What a noble initiative! What camaraderie among the inmates of the different communities of BPK! What a soothing influence my Sis has been on the inmates! What a day to be alive!
