RUBIK'S CUBE

River Ichhamati flows through India and Bangladesh and at some places forms the boundary between the two countries. Situated on the southern bank of Ichhamati is Bongaon, a border sub-divisional headquarter town in the district of now North 24 Parganas. I had my very first posting as the sub-divisional police officer here.

Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay’s childhood home was in Bongaon. Many of his novels, including Pather Panchali, Adarsha Hindu Hotel, Ichhamati and Bipiner Sansar are set in this town. Pather Panchali and its sequel Aparajito were made in to films by Satyajit Roy and together with Apur Sansar, formed a highly successful Apu Trilogy. Rakhaldas Bandyopadhyay, historian and a pioneer in the fields of Indian archaeology, epigraphy and paleography known as the discoverer of Mohenjo-daro, the principal site of the Harappa culture had his roots in Bongaon. Dinabandhu Mitra known for his play Nil-Darpan about the plight of indigo farmers was also born in this sub-division. This play has been  compared to Uncle Tom’s Cabin for its role in arousing people’s awareness of the indigo plantations.

I was both nervous and excited as I travelled to Bongaon to assume the very first independent charge. On arrival I was received by my forever pan chewing, loud and effusive

circle inspector. This was the time when I was still struggling 

with the spoken Bengali language. Not only that he initially advised me in discharge of my duties but he also encouraged me to learn the language as fast as I could. His sincere efforts in settling me down were quite successful and soon I began functioning independently.

The winters had set in, and it was the season for Jatra, theatre and musical performances. A lot of police permissions were being sought by various organizers for hosting Jatra in the country-side. One day he asked me if I would like to witness a Jatra. It would be a way of supervision of a law and order duty as there was a small police arrangement in place and may perhaps also help me understand the language better through live dialogues and accompanying gestures and actions.

Jatra, a popular folk musical form, is traditionally credited to the rise of Sri Chaitany's Bhakti movement, wherein Chaitanya himself played Rukmini in the performance of Rukmini Haran, a first definite presentation of this theatrical spectacle. Jatra performances can be likened to other folk theatre forms like the  Nautanki of Uttar Pradesh, the Tamasha of Maharashtra and Bhavai of Gujarat. Though the Jatra originated in the religious landscape yet by the end of the 19th century it included morally didactic content, and eventually became secular, social and also political when it gained entry into urban proscenium theatres.  The survival of the form over such a vast period of rapidly changing social milieu has been credited to its innate malleability and ways of adapting to changing social dynamics.  Surrounded by people on all sides, open-air stages became the mainstay of these performances. As it evolved, it absorbed all the prevalent folk traditions of music, dance and singing, to create a new template for folk theatre.

So on a cool and pleasant early winter night, the young newly married SDPO with his wife and accompanied by the circle inspector arrived at the Jatra venue in this village some distance away from the town. It would begin around 10 pm or thereabouts and will be at least a three hour show, if not more. Obviously people would come after finishing their dinner. There was a massive gathering of excited people from nearby villages and they were seated on ground all round the elevated stage. There was a ramp on one side which was entry and exit route for the actors. Spectators were sitting on the either sides of the ramp as well. The stage had no furniture or props. I realized that it was a neutral space, free to be given a meaning befitting the scene. Of course there will be a musical concert like an Italian opera, prior to the main show, basically to get the crowds in and let them settle down. So there were musicians sitting on a side of the stage, carrying musical instruments like dholak, pakhawaj harmonium, tabla, flute, cymbals, trumpets, behala (violin) and clarinet etc. And as the jatra proceeded, the music will be played to heighten the overall effect of melodramatic performances with highly stylized delivery and exaggerated gestures and orations. Most of the singing would be done by the actors themselves.

Seeing the more familiar face of the circle Inspector, the organizers went scurrying to find us a prime spot on one of the sides for the best viewing of the Jatra. It was a first for both me and my wife. I remember the Jatra was ‘Nati Binodini’.

Huge gatherings such as these also provided avenues for hawkers to do a brisk business. You can never miss them in large public functions or gatherings or trains or public transport. Their products largely comprise of eatables like jhaal-muri, chana-chur, cheena badam, wafer-chips and sweets like gulab-jamun, rasgolla, chamcham and that ubiquitous piece of candy called ‘lojen’ (lozenge), things they could carry on their person and be mobile at the same time, wading through the teeming crowds.

While the Jatra performance was under way, my circle inspector spotted a ‘lojen’ seller carrying his multi-coloured stock in a transparent glass-ware. He called out for this vendor, a young lad and after ascertaining the price asked him to give one each to me and my wife, perhaps by way of a post-dinner treat feeling responsible for our comprehensive and ‘wholesome’ entertainment.  The boy brought out small square pieces of an old news-paper from a wad kept in his shirt pocket and dipping his hand into the jar, picked out three irregular shaped pieces of ‘lojen’ giving one each to both of us and one to the circle inspector who was closely observing this entire operation. Both I and my wife squirmed a little and almost simultaneously felt that the ‘lojen’ could be unhygienic or made in unclean conditions in some village home. The disastrous consequence of partaking of the ‘lojen’ by way of food poisoning, vomiting or diarrhea crossed my mind. However not to hurt the circle inspector, we both took it and were holding it in our hands with the Hamlet like dilemma- to eat or not to eat’. He was quick to realize our consternation and giving a stern look to the vendor said ‘Tomar kachhe ye nei?” (You don’t have that?)  The vendor sheepishly nodded his head from side to side and quickly moved away.

Now for me, ‘ye’ is the Rubik’s Cube in many ways. You can move it in any direction you

want. Full of loaded expression, it is capable of conveying several feelings, emotions, objects and things particularly when you are fumbling for an appropriate word or expression. I felt very ‘ye’. I missed ‘ye’. I have got a ‘ye’ in my mind. I can’t walk because I have a ‘ye’ on my foot. In a hurry I forgot to carry ‘ye’. Where is my ‘ye’? Last night I had too much of ‘ye’. Tumi na khoob ye!  The list is unending. I recall one of my Dy SP many years ago, who would always call out for his office orderly ‘Arre ye?’ And how did the office orderly respond! The best part of ‘ye’ is that both the sides understand the purport of the term in any language when used with reference to whatever be the context.

So when my inspector said “Tomar kachhe ye nei?” we realized that he was inquiring about a spoon. In fact by this loud inquiry he wanted to dispel our apprehensions and convey a message to us that  there was nothing unhygienic per se about that country-made ‘lojen’; it could be rendered thus because the vendor used his hand instead of a spoon!

That we didn’t experience any after-effects affirmed his pride and faith in the ‘lojen’ available in a remote countryside and as his modest contribution to the rural handicrafts and the rural economy!