The Address

by Nirupama Bargohain

              On the suitcase bought by Ramen there was hanging a blank card for writing the name and address. On it Jatin Mazumdar carefully wrote in nice, intact letters `Jatin Mazumdar, Gandhibasti, Guwahati-3, Assam.' Of course he wrote in English: while outside Assam, who would understand the sweet Assamese alphabets? Of course the Bengali would, but they'd spell his name wrongly -- yes, the `r' of Mazumdar would be spelt as `b'. Still he remembered, many days ago, while he had been standing beside a long-distance bus waiting to catch another, a young boy of around 10-12 years, from a Bengali family, had painstakingly pronounced the words written on the body of the bus, 'Assam Chabkabab Motob Charvichh' instead of `Assam Sarkarar Motor Service' -- and then almost fell to the ground with laughter. It seemed they had been new to Assam, but even then Mazumdar's face had turned red with rage -- as if he would slap the boy's face! You would come to our state, feed yourself, stay, get permanently settled here, snatch the jobs from our boys -- but would never learn our language; would live here for generations after generations: but let alone the Assamese `Dainik Assam', wouldn't even touch the English `Assam Tribune', but read only your `own' newspapers published from Calcutta, say `Anandabazar' or `Jugantar' --- unbearable!

              Still, though the Bengali people won't recognise 'r' or 'v', they'd naturally recognise the other alphabets. But once you cross the border of West Bengal, your Assamese language would be like Latin or Greek to the other Indians. So there's no way but to write the address in English. However, while in Assam he always used Assamese. In his notebooks his address was in Assamese, on his books and periodicals it was in Assamese, the addresses written on his letters to his friends and relatives were in Assamese -- in short, except for unavoidable reasons Jatin Mazumdar never used any written language other than Assamese.

              But recently he was having to spend most of his days outside Assam. His son Ramen worked for a national organisation. Ramen was his only son, so the situation forced him to move around with his son. Both of his daughters got married, and his wife died after the first daughter's marriage. So for a period Jatin Mazumdar became alone at his house at Gandhibasti. `Nowadays the difference between sons and daughters has ceased to exist: daughters go away from the home, so also the sons, so the two old people have to become the support of each other; but I am unfortunate to be left alone by my old woman too' -- thus he would lament in front of his friends.

              Yet he had managed to live alone at the Gandhibasti house for two to three years, using the services of domestic helps. But gradually it became impossible to live in that way. He kept suffering from asthma; on the other hand it was getting hard to find faithful and sincere helpers, even on payment of a lot of money. Seeing such a plight of the father, one of the daughters had asked him to stay with them - the other one being unable to because of being in a very large joint family -- but he couldn't imagine living with his daughter and son-in-law: after all he had a son too, although he may be residing abroad (whenever Jatin Mazumdar remembered about Ramen residing outside Assam, the word `abroad' invariably came to his mind); still that meant that there was a home of his son where he could live in his own right.

              For a long time Ramen had been asking his father to stay with him, but Jatin Mazumdar had always refused. Own home, own relatives, own environment of living -- in other words all these `own things' were too strong attachments to be forsaken in lieu of a unknown place and an unknown environment. He felt he would be exactly like a fish out of water.

              But at last the situation forced him to leave his home. His illness was increasing as were his troubles with the domestic helps. The last one finally vanished with some money and a bag given for marketing. Fortunately, he committed no other theft or robbery!

              Yet Jatin Mazumdar would have searched for a new helper, and would have continued with a patch-worked life similar to his patch-worked body. But just then an incident at East Sarania, where the wife of one of his acquaintances was robbed of money and jewelry, and was even murdered by her domestic help at her house, cracked his determination -- no, really he could not live alone any longer. Nobody knew on what day which domestic help would slit his throat. 'Days are becoming very bad. Nowadays people are killing people just as one kill insects. Open the morning newspaper and you'll see -- there terrorists are killing people, there parents-in-law are killing their daughters-in-law, there members of one political party are killing members of another one, there the police is resorting to firing at the slightest provocation, there servants are killing their masters -- really, the people have become bloodthirsty. Previously one used to be scared to move in forests because of wild animals, but now even in the modern cities full of diverse amenities offered by scientific discoveries one finds it difficult to live safely because of the two-legged animals.' -- such a trail of thought engulfed his mind.

              Jatin Mazumdar was finally compelled to leave his Gandhibasti house to live with his son 'abroad'. House! So old and related with so many memories was that house! In that paternal house he was born, he was brought up. Into that house he had brought his newly married wife. Here had been born Maadhaan, Edhaan (Ramen) and Bhanti. Then one by one the children had left this house, the wife also had left. And then he, the last creature guarding the house like a mythical yaksha, was also going to leave.

              He had become old enough, and like his withered frame his heart and soul had also withered a lot; yet while leaving the house, two drops of tears appeared on his sunken eyes.

              But still Jatin Mazumdar belonged to Assam, his permanent address being -- Gandhibasti, Guwahati-3, Assam. Wherever he stayed, and for whatever period of time, that address was eternal.

              Till recently Jatin Mazumdar used to travel with an old leather suitcase, but this time Ramen bought him a polymer-made V.I.P. brand suitcase. It was so convenient to write the name and address there! Holding the card in his hand, Jatin Mazumdar felt delighted like a child getting a new toy. Then on it he carefully wrote in nice, intact letters -- `Jatin Mazumdar, Gandhibasti, Guwahati-3, Assam'. While writing he kept murmuring to himself -- `After my death let me be born here again' -- he used to remember this poem by Nalinibala Devi frequently -- particularly whenever Ramen wrote letters asking him to live with them `abroad'.

              After opening the new chapter of his life at his son's home in Jaipur, where Ramen was posted, old Jatin Mazumdar started to critically observe first Ramen's house, and then the place and its people. `The house is not that bad, but it seems the other family sharing the house hobnobs with you a lot. I don't like that much of hobnobbing with neighbours.'

              On hearing about such reservations, the daughter-in- law Ruby smiled and said -- "But father-in-law, the Mehtas are a very nice family. Mehta's wife is the daughter of a minister, but she is so unassuming, well-behaved and simple that she doesn't seem like a minister's daughter. Before I came here, when your son was residing in this house alone, both the husband and the wife took very good care of him -- just after he got up Mr. Mehta used to come with a cup of bed-tea -- my husband used to say that with such a cup of tea made in milk he used to feel fresh throughout the day. And, at the beginning, what a lot of pigeons' droppings did they clean! You'll see afterwards, there are a lot of pigeons in Jaipur, in the old castles flocks of pigeons are there -- our vacant house was also a den of a lot of pigeons -- the Mehtas themselves carried buckets of water and scrubbed with brooms, finally getting the house cleaned! They didn't listen to his many protests -- instead arguing that he was new to their place, didn't know the lifestyle there, he must have been already facing a lot of difficulties, without cleaning how would he stay here, he didn't also have the tools for cleaning, they always had to clean pigeons' droppings and so they are accustomed to that, and so on. And father-in-law, their three- year old daughter Parley is so lovely, you'll see -- she will make you feel like her own grandpa."

            "My daughter-in-law is like that -- once she opens her mouth she won't shut it! What sort of a house did Edhaan take! As far as I understand the family occupying the other part would spoil the thing called privacy ......" thought Jatin Mazumdar.

            After hearing the father's objections Ramen said, "Father, the pleasures, comforts and advantages of one's own house -- how can you find that in a rented house? A house like the one we own in Guwahati would here require a very high rent -- but however, you needn't worry, the Mehtas are very nice, they don't give any disturbance. Sometimes the little girl comes, but she doesn't give any trouble, and on being asked leaves immediately."

            After staying for two or three days with the son and the daughter-in-law, Jatin Mazumdar got rather bored. There were no friends and acquaintances -- could one live like that? Naturally he started to roam around the city in the mornings and in the evenings. The son and the daughter-in-law also encouraged him to walk around -- the city of Jaipur is very beautiful, the roads are wide, almost at every home a carefully maintained garden is there -- it is a land of deserts, so to keep the dry summer under control the people here take care to plant trees -- so he would find it very nice. There were also many important sites to visit -- on a holiday they could board a tourist bus together. Did he know that this city was renovated two and a half centuries back ,with drains and wide footpaths etc., by Maharaja Jay Singh, enabling it to easily compete with any European city of that period?

              But whenever he felt that Assam was being belittled in comparison with some other place, Jatin Mazumdar would say something supporting Assam, irrespective of whether that was necessary or not. Here also he said, "Oh these are dry places; not like Assam where rains come at every season, ruining the streets and the monuments. Yet within those limitations our Ahom kings constructed such matchless palaces, castles and temples some six hundred years back that the storms and the heavy rains of Assam has not succeeded in destroying them, not even the negligence of our archeology Department has .......".

              On another day Jatin Mazumdar, after completing his morning walk, remarked -- "I have noticed from the beginning that even though the streets are beautiful, the common people here sit down to ease themselves by the side of the streets, even the womenfolk not excluded. Our Assamese poor are however not like that, among all the classes of our people there is culture and good taste."

              Against this opinion however the son and the daughter-in-law could not protest. But on another day, seeing the Amer Palace, the Jaigarh Fort, the City Palace etc., Jatin Mazumdar gaped with wonder, saying to himself -- "I cannot but admit that in comparison to the hugeness, lustre and expertise of construction of these palaces and castles, our ancient monuments look rather like flies in front of elephants". Then seeing the flocks of pigeons flying away from the castles against the background of the setting sun's rays, a childlike smile appeared on his face. The description of this `Pink City' by Aldous Huxley, who had come here as a visitor, came to his mind -- it seemed as if those flying pigeons were coming alive from Huxley's description. It was written so long ago, describing this architectural wonder which was crafted like some immortal verse even hundreds of years before the essay -- though the architecture remained immortal, its inhabitants had long been to their graves -- Jatin Mazumdar felt like an obsessed man, a sort of sad compassion filled his mind. Some stanzas from the famous Bengali poem `Shah Jahan', which he had almost got by heart in his college days by simply hearing his Bengali co-boarder Animesh Ray practicing for recitation in a college-week, came to his mind from the grave of the past and stroked in his heart -- "The jingle of bells from the anklets of your city-beauties / Has died, only the crickets now make the night-sky weep ...... ".

              After coming home from that visit, Jatin Mazumdar asked Parley to come near. After his arrival the child did come several times and peeped at him, but finding no response, she had to return content with the display of affection only from his son and his daughter-in-law. Now on being called by the old man smiling at her, she at first hesitated, but didn't move away from the doorstep either. After that, when he called her again, this time holding out a packet of `gems' candy, she came haltingly, and sat down on his lap without any objection. Opening the packet she took a `gems' to her mouth, and started the introduction -- "Should I call you grandpa?". From that day Jatin Mazumdar almost became a real grandfather of Parley. Coming at any hour to him, having various childlike chats with him, considering gifts of gems, toffee, cadbury's etc. from him as her birthright, detecting mistakes in his Hindi pronunciations despite being such a young child (don't say `antha', say `anda', don't say `sof', say `sonf' etc.), having walks with him holding his hands, offering biscuits to the neighbours' dog from his lap -- as she was afraid to deal with it alone -- and giggling with merriment at its taking the biscuits away -- all these had got so entangled with his life that when Ramen was transferred to Calcutta it became hard to severe that bond. Parley's mother prepared soft Indian breads and vegetable curry for him for his journey to Calcutta,-- so that Parley's grandfather might avoid taking food from outside as far as possible. At the time of farewell they presented a brass-made candle-stand engraved with Jaipuri handiwork, "We have heard that in Calcutta power cuts are quite frequent; whenever the lights go off at night, light the candles here and remember us" -- Parley's mother said.

              "But I needn't remember them by lighting candles; the eternal lamp that has been lit in my heart by that family will always be glittering in my soul!" he thought.

              A few days after getting established in Calcutta Anando got the news of their arrival and came to visit them. His name was Anando Mukherjee, who had gone to Guwahati to work in a bank, and on being strongly requested by a friend Jatin Mazumdar had once rented out to him a room of his house.

              Anando didn't come alone but had brought his newly married wife Bandana along. Both the husband and wife showed their respect to him in the Bengali way by touching his feet, and then presented the sweetmeats they brought.

              After that, there was unfolded another chapter of life filled with heart's warmth. When Anando had been in Guwahati he had conquered Jatin Mazumdar's heart with his various good qualities, notwithstanding Mazumdar's racial dislike against the Bengali. The young man had learnt Assamese only within a few months, and even had got somewhat acquainted with Assamese literature and culture. Then Jatin Mazumdar had once told Anando with grief -- "If your brethren living here for many decades had shown such interest like you for things Assamese, then possibly the relation between the people of these two communities wouldn't have been so hostile."

              After being transferred to Calcutta Anando got married, and Jatin Mazumdar gradually discovered with delight that the Bengali `daughter-in-law' was a step ahead of even Anando regarding the various qualities of heart. The Mazumdars went to Calcutta during a summer. When the days were becoming colder, Bandana one day came with a woolen scarf which she had knit herself, and said -- "As you have asthma I have made this two- layered scarf for you. One of its ends can even be used like a cap. You'd possibly need it during the morning-walk."

              Feeling the comforting warmth of the scarf, Jatin Mazumdar said in his mind, "Even if I wouldn't have got the warmth of this scarf, the warmth of your various kind gestures would always have kept my heart warm."

              Next time, Ramen got transferred from Calcutta to Delhi. For the first several days Jatin Mazumdar compared the people of Delhi to that of Calcutta and grumbled; calling them impolite, heartless and so on. But one day a friend of Ramen from Delhi, Sushil Bhagat, who was working in Jaipur, came and started rebuking Ramen -- "I wrote so strongly to you that our home is not far from this residence of yours, so I asked you to visit our home and express whatever difficulties you might face to my parents -- but no, you have never come to visit them". The next day Sushil brought his parents for a visit, and invited all of the Mazumdar family for a lunch at their home. On that day, when Sushil's mother came to know from Ramen's wife that they hadn't yet got a gas connection, that it was likely to come only after a month or so, and that they were cooking on kerosene stoves with kerosene bought from the open market, she became very sorry for them and exclaimed -- "Oh, in the controlled market we get so much ration of kerosene oil, you know it is hardly ever brought as we cook with cooking-gas, so this quota of oil can be bought by you: a lot of money will be saved. And do you want the rice sold in the controlled market? We mainly have breads, so the rice is almost never brought, but it is rather O.K. ...... "

              On that day Sushil Bhagat went back to Jaipur, and the next morning Sushil's old father came with a can of ten litres of kerosene and a bag of ten kilograms of rice on his two- wheeler. As the Mazumdars made a hullabaloo on seeing that, he said with a meek smile -- "No, no I am not having any trouble while doing this, only you must be having trouble, you have come to a new place -- so many types of difficulties you might be facing, you are our guests -- it is our duty to take care of your troubles"!

              In the period of the Mazumdar family's stay in Delhi, the Bhagat family performed their `duties' to these Assamese `mehman's (guests) in many other ways. Jatin Mazumdar once said in his mind -- "Mr. Bhagat, even if we wouldn't have got the warmth of your kerosene, the many other displays of the warmth by all of you would have kept us warm for ever."

              From Delhi Ramen was transferred to Guwahati. This time Ramen had tried for this transfer. The father had already become quite old, how many times should he be carrying his old frame from here to there? The last period of his life was coming near -- during this time his mind must be longing for his own home, own friends (whoever still remained), own relatives. However, Jatin Mazumdar had never mentioned to his son any such desire, but Ramen knew the attachment that his father had to his home state. For the last ten years, wherever they might be staying, Jatin Mazumdar had kept the emotional connection with Assam intact. Ramen sometimes told his wife that his father read so many newspapers and magazines from Assam that even the people staying in Assam probably did not do so. "The other day father even sent a letter congratulating a journalist who regularly writes reports in a weekly -- `You deserve to be congratulated for the report on the Bengali school of Nagaon that you have rightly written, despite being a Bengali yourself.For a journalist this impartiality is very important', he wrote". Ramen smiled, "Even sitting in Jaipur father kept himself aware about the illegal occupation of land belonging to the tribal belts by some non-tribals".

              A few months after Ramen got transferred to Guwahati, Jatin Mazumdar died of old age. The relatives talked -- "The soul of the old man was enclosed in his cage till now just to be freed at his own place. Why, when in the last year his father became extremely ill in Delhi, Ramen did say that he was afraid of losing his father then.".

              After the funeral was over, one day, while trying to rearrange the earthly belongings of his father, Ramen was going to open the V.I.P. brand suitcase that he had bought for his father several years ago. Just then he happened to look at the card hanging from it; he remembered that there his father had carefully written his address in Guwahati. Taking the card in his hand Ramen slowly read the blurred letters inside the plastic cover -- `Jatin Mazumdar, India'. Jatin Mazumdar, India? Being somewhat astonished Ramen turned the card back -- no, there also the address `Jatin Mazumdar, Gandhibasti, Guwahati-3, Assam' was not written with the nice, intact English handwriting of his father; there also was written `Jatin Mazumdar, India'.

              Taking the card in his hand Ramen sat motionless. His eyes got filled with tears.


Translated by Rituraj Kalita

Back to writings page  Back to main page