Memories of an ordinary buraucrat :: 49 :: Back in Kolkata

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Klokata GPO

Having very largely got the hang of more important areas of Bengal I was back in Kolkata for the home stretch. It was time for me to get the orders of my promotion but inexplicably these were being delayed. I knew the Appointments Committee of the Cabinet had cleared my name and the Department of Personnel had issued the orders but it was being held up somewhere in the department. I did not wish to remind anybody, including the Secretary who was only a batch senior but somewhat cantankerous. Obviously someone had organized a game and I thought I, too, would play along. The question of availability of vacancies did not arise as out of the three sanctioned posts all were vacant. In fact, the Postal Board just did not exist. Only the Secretary who was ex-officio Chairman could not have constituted the Board.

There were many instances where the higher officials in the Board were inclined to play games to bring senior officers including Chief PMGs to grief. There was a national strike in the middle of 1993 which happened to last for one whole month. The minister, Sukh Ram, negotiated a settlement and the workers came back to work. Soon after the resumption of work I started getting letters from two senior officers of the Board to cut the salaries of employees who had struck work. I was told that some heads of circles had succumbed to the pressure and brought to heel, some others had been charge sheeted for not obeying orders. These gentlemen who were orchestrating their views that the month-long absence deserved a salary cut had forgotten that after every national strike the Board issued the necessary orders regarding treatment of the period of absence. This time, therefore, it was for the Board to issue the orders but, seemingly, it was trying to fire the guns keeping them on the shoulders of Chief PMGs.

I resolutely refused to issue any order and wrote back every time that it was for the Board to issue the orders as it was a nation-wide strike. As luck would have it, the minister happened to come to Kolkata for a telecom conference accompanied by a member of the Postal Board who was awaiting orders for elevation as Secretary. It was from his wing that the letters referred to above were being issued. As soon as the conversation revolved round to the Postal strike during the conference I butted in asked him whether there should be a pay-cut for the strike. Sukh Ram said in very clear terms that there should not be any pay cut as the issues with the unions were settled in a spirit of goodwill. I looked at the Member, he had nowhere to hide. Here was a matter that was resolved by none other than the minister himself and the Board wanted to punish the employees through the PMGs. The unfairness of it all did not seem to have occurred to any of the worthies.

I was asked to hold Kolkata for around six months. But when a vacancy arose in my own grade at Delhi at the end of six months somebody else who was anchored in Delhi for years was appointed. Such things happen and when I mentioned this to the Secretary at Kolkata his response was “not in this vacancy, I say!”. There was nothing else to do but to cool one’s heels. One couldn’t have picked up a fight with the Secretary although I had known him from the beginning of my career.

So I reconciled myself to a needlessly delayed promotion, not that the promotion would have given me any far greater amount of money. Instead of September I got the orders in February – a clear five months of administrative delay. So we collected our meagre personal effects, said good bye to the office people who had been very nice to us, said the same to many of our relatives and caught a flight for Delhi.

*Photo from internet

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 48 :: Gangtok

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Since I had gone to Kalimpong, I thought it was my business to nip across and see for myself what was happening in Gangtok. I had been here more than twenty years ago but that trip was made on Leave Travel Concession. It was absolutely unofficial. Now

that I was in-charge of the operations in that state too I decided to take a look.

As you travel up from Kalimpong to Gangtok it is a fascinating landscape all through. Up and down and through lush green

forests, occasional gaps revealing only the tips of the Himalayan peaks, the road winds its way along the edges of the countless hills before it hits Rongpo. The most interesting part, however, is the stretch that runs along the somewhat wild Teesta River. They have now an organization that controls rafting on Teesta.

Gangtok was as placid as ever despite the tell-tale signs of

development. The offices were always efficient performing well – better than their brethren across several hills in the North-east. Here officials had a heightened sense of responsibility and they appeared far more sincere than in any other place. It was quite evident that in

the intervening two decades the state had taken long strides towards prosperity. What I saw this time was much different from what I had seen last time – the difference being palpably for the better. Our Postal System appeared to have kept pace with the requirements. Though headed by a Group B

officer the Division was doing fine.

We had an outing towards Nathu La. There was a lot of military traffic. I am somehow unable to tolerate people coming in the way of armymen. And, here I was doing it myself. But there was no going back as the target was Nathu La.

Over the winding roads which were well asphalted we hit Tsango Lake after about a couple of hours. I did not wish to continue further on to Nathu La. This was 12000 ft in elevation and presented lovely sights. The play of cumulus clouds over the Lake dominated by

snow-covered hills was fascinating. It was in fact a tourist site as there were several outfits providing tea and refreshments.

Having “done” Tsango it was our time to leave and get back to Gangtok. The next day we commenced our long trudge to Kolkata. But then it was yet to be decided whether we would drive right through or take the regional flight from Bagdogra.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat ::47:: Kolkata - Murshidabad

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Hazarduari Palace

Named after Murshid Quli Khan, Murshidabad was the capital of Bengal before Kolkata was made its capital. It was an aggressive act by the British East India Company that deprived the local Nawab the powers to collect taxes. Murshid Quli khan had brought the capital to Murshidabadl from Dhaka where it had been taken by Bangla Sultanate. The region was very affluent and the local Nawab used to provide handsome tributes to the Mughal court in Delhi.

That it was very rich and prosperous was also found by the Anglophile scholar Nirad Choudhury. In his heavily researched book “Clive of India” he had occasion to record that Robert Clive, when he saw Murshidabad, thought that the place was far more prosperous than his (Clive’s) native London. This can be rejected as a misjudgment due to

The Clock Tower

ethnic pride but a similar conclusion arrived at by William Dalrymple in his book “Anarchy” cannot be discarded for any reason.

The place was crawling with European traders and their representatives. The East India Company of England had set their shop there with the French, Dutch and Danish East India Companies who too had parked themselves there for slices of what seems to have been the slices of the huge cake. The Armenians were already there as were the Jagat Seths, the famous money lenders. Murshidabad used to produce a lot of silk and that along with the famed Bengali muslin were favourite items of trade. Murshidabadi silk was a very coveted thing. My mother used to have a Murshidabadi silk sari which was her prized possession.

 Murshidabad was the capital of Bengal Subah that had Bihar and Odisha within its control. It was a very rich province with Murshidabad having the privilege of providing the seat of provincial treasury, revenue office and judiciary. The Murshidabadi prosperity attracted several merchant families from various parts of India and Europe who decided to drop anchor there. The place became a cultural centre as well with development of a native gharana of music and Murshidabad style of painting that looked like Mughal miniatures.

Katra Masjid

The affluence gave rise to some significant constructions and a few structures have been left behind that can be seen even today. The Katra Masjid, Niyamat Imambada and, later, the Hazaarduari Palace were built. The palace is reputed to have more than 900 doors and was built for running offices and for accommodating the Nawab’s and the English Company’s officials.

As was quite evident, the English East India Company gradually acquired enormous powers and the nawabs succeeding Murshid Quli Khan were unable play the games that the Company had come to master. Slowly, while power slipped away from the Nawabs it accreted in the hands of the Company. The nawabs came to survive with the

The Imambada

grace of the Company which had acquired all the power through crookedness ad chicanery. The second Plassey war completely changed the equations with the English coming out victorious. They became more self-willed and deprived the nawabs of the maintenance from the revenues. Slowly taxes came to be collected by the Company. Affairs of the state were increasingly being decided by Company officials in Kolkata. A situation was gradually created in which the capital had to be shifted to Kolkata. When that happened it sounded the death knell of Murshidabad.

The English East India Company had already started nibbling at the  Bengali territory. The second Plassey war made the local hereditary nawabs subservient to the Company. The Crown was also very indulgent in giving the Company sweeping powers to wage war to acquire territory. The Company, thus, grabbed by fair means and foul considerable amount of real estate within a short span of time. But that i

Hazarduari Palace

s another long story.

On our way back from Murshidabad we stopped at Berhampur where my cousin used to live. He had already organized a lavish meal with Bengal’s favourite fish Hilsa in mustard sauce. Not many can really tackle a piece of Hilsa as it has too many bones. We somehow managed it very well, more so because what was awaiting us was far more delectable. Chhena bara is a kind of jalebi of bigger sizes made of cottage cheese and as you sink your teeth in them sweet fragrant syrup oozes out and fills your mouth. They are fried till they are dark brown like kala jamuns and then immersed in the fragrant syrup. It is just heavenly. We took leave of our lovable Dada after heaping on him our thanks for the wonderful meal. That was the last we saw of him as he passed away within a couple of years’ time.Plassey, the place that proved to be the nemesis

  Plassey that proved to be the
 nemesis of the Nabobs

We also visited the village of my father in-law close to the district headquarters at Malda. It was an affluent village with all the houses built of bricks and mortar. As I entered the village post office I found wads of currency notes in the hands of people who had come to deposit them. Obviously the soil was rich and the farmers were diligent that produced the wads of currency. In times of the nawabs it was gold and jewellery, these days it is wads of Rs. 100/- notes

      

                                

memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 46 :: Kolkata - Gour

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Chamkan Mosque

Gour is another city where one finds structures of terracotta. These are different in the sense that they are of the Islamic kind. Gour is located in the eastern part of West Bengal and the ruins straddle both India and Bangladesh, though majority of the ruins fall on the Indian side.

Gour had its heydays during the middle ages when it was the capital of Bengal. Gour or Gauda became synonymous with Bengal. In the 13 Century it was captured by the Delhi Sultanate. I did not know that

Trellis work

there was also a Bengal Sultanate of which Gour was the capital for more than 100-odd years.

 Gour was one of the most densely populated cities of the sub-continent. Portuguese travelers have left detailed accounts of the riches of the place. They even compared the place with Lisbon. In the sixteenth century Gour was occupied by Humayun

Reminds one of Fatehpur Sikri

who desired a name-change for the place to Zanntabad. Apparently, this did not work out and the place continued to be known as Gour or Gauda.

Gour continued to be an opulent place with its trade and business. The Moguls added a large number of public buildings. But soon the city was overtaken by plague and change in the course of the Ganges. The city was thus left as a rubble heap and ruins of what once were fine pieces of architecture.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 45 :: Kolkata - Santiniketan

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My junior colleagues in Kolkata had always been telling me to take a trip to their city for a visit to Santiniketan during the Poush Mela. Poush is the 9^th month of Bengali Calendar overlapping both December and January of the Gregorian Calendar. It is the season of harvests and farmers have enough money to celebrate. On the last day of Poush the festival of Poush Sankranti is celebrated. In Santiniketan. Poush Mela is a massive celebration with sweets, several

Sculpture by Ramkinker Baij

varieties of delectable Bengali dishes, music, recitations and folk theatre accompanied by folk music and dance.

 I could never make it to Santineketan during the Mela. This time too my wife and I were there but only after the celebrations were over and inmates of the place were back studying for their examinations. But having come to Kolkata and not visiting Santiniketan would be an affront to the Bard of Santiniketan. That is what we thought – a trifle over-estimation of ourselves.

The beginning of Santiniketan dates back to earlier than 1901. Tagore’s

The first building that came up in Santiniketan

father Maharishi Debendra Nath Tagore had bought this piece of land from Rajbari of Raipur for a pittance for his spiritual needs. He used to come here for meditation and, later, others too seemed to have joined him. The building which is reckoned as the original Santiniketan was constructed for his use.

After almost fifty years followed Patha Bhawan in 1901, which came into being as an institution of primary education run by Rabindra Nath Tagore. It was during this time that my maternal uncle was admitted at Patha Bhawan. Initially there were only 5 students. Characterised by its philosophy “of learning by the heart with closeness to nature without any superficial barrier between teachers and students” as opposed to

Uttarayan where Tagore used to reside

the Western method of rote learning, its system of teaching and learning was different. What started as a school grew into the Vishwa Bharati University. It is perhaps the only primary school that is affiliated with an University.

         

 While only a building was earlier known as Santiniketan, today it is the entire complex of numerous structures is known by that name. It comprises intellectual activities, literary and artistic efforts as also crafts like on cloth or leather. Music is another integral part of the education. No wonder one can often find the students go on musical soirees. That Tagore gave birth to a distinctive genre of music universally known as Rabindra Sangit is perhaps a very well known fact. A large number of youngsters flock to the place only to specialize in Rabindra Sangit. They have to make extraordinary effort to master 2000 songs that he had written, each set to a different tune by him.

Path Bhawan (from internet)

Apart from music Santiniketan is known for art – visual art. From our childhood we had seen many practitioners of art who had internalised Santineketan way of painting so much so that a brief look at it would be enough to tell us the provenance of the style.

All in all, it is a great institution. It  produced different kind of men and women who were well educated, well behaved and gentle and cultured to a fault. When they went out in to the wide world they carried Santiniketan along with them. I remember the wife of a faculty member from the up-country of the Indian Institute of Public Administration who had been to Santiniketan and used to speak

Another scupture by Ramkinker

flawless Bengali. She had Santiniketan seemingly imprinted all over her.

As visitors what we can do is only to see the standing structures or gawk at the sculptures of Ramkinker Baij and collages of Nandlal Bose. I find that very frustrating but then I cannot do anything about it. I console myself with the thought that it is enough we have been able to visit the place and pay our silent homage to the great polymath who preceded our generation.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 44 :: Kolkata - Bishnupur

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Madanmohan Temple

We were on to Bankura the clay-horse town. It was an interesting journey through the crowds and chaos of Bardhaman and the urban scene of Durgapur. I have never had the occasion to see as many millions of cycle rickshaws as in Bardhaman. They clogged the roads. Worse they were crowding around th entry and exit of the Railway Station. Bardhaman is supposed to be reckoned as the heritage city of West Bengal and, they say, there is much to see but I got upset by the unruly cycle rickshaws.

Jorbangla temple

So we headed further north towards Bankura.

Bankura is just like any mofussil town - dusty and disorganized. Shops are here, there and everywhere. The most visible thing that is on sale is the famed Bankura horse – of terracotta as well of wood – of various dimensions. Some were carefully worked on, some even had semi-precious stones affixed at strategic places to make them look more beautiful. I had two huge terracotta horses of about 6 f

Rasmanch

t. height in my office so I was not really interested. My wife did buy some for gifting away.

We then moved into Bishnupur which is known for its terracotta temples. We have been almost all over India where we had seen temples made of granite, sandstone, marble or slate but we had never come across terracotta temples. Bishnupur has them in quite good numbers. Some of them eve have living deities.

Bishnupur is a municipality in the Bamkura Distt. Ironically there was a

Another of those terracotta temples

time, of course, long back when Bankura used to be within the administrative jurisdiction of Bishnupur. But the times have changed and Bankura got developed leaving Bishnupur behind. The history of Bishnupur stretches back to the Gupta period but for our purposes its recent history is more relevant. For almost a thousand years Bishnupur was the capital of Mallabhum ruled by Mallas of which Bankura was a part. The

details of a panel on a temple

Malla rulers were Vaishnavites and they built here the exquisite terracotta buildings including temples. These have now become objects of tourists’ interest.

Although the place required many more days we could spend only two days as we had to get back to Kolkata. To that extent our experience was poorer.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 43 :: Kolkata - Sunderbans

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Matla River

Our Postmaster General, Kolkata, was a very competent officer. Being a local product he knew most of the employees and he also knew most of the worth-seeing places. On a Wednesday he came and asked whether I was interested in taking a trip to Sunderbans on the next week-end. I thought the opportunity was God-sent. Who wouldn’t like to see a slice of the great Indian mangrove forests that protect the hinterland, including the megapolis of Kolkata? I promptly gave my ascent to a trip that would involve in a journey to a place called Canning and from there a cruise on a boat for 24 hours including a night halt at a place called Pakhiralay (abode of birds).

Canning is a town in South 24 Parganas district. It is a sub-divisional town the whole of which is situated in the delta and hence has become the gateway to Sunderbans. Named after a Governor General, Lord Canning, the town missed being a competitor to Singapore. That is precisely what Lord Canning wanted to make of the town. Only he did not succeed in his efforts. Instead Canning has become a fishing centre that tries to meet the ravenous demand of fish of Calcuttans and that too only partially.

We had to commence our boat ride from Canning. The boat would ply on the Matla River up to a distance, i.e. up to Pakhiralay  where there is a resthouse and we were to spend the night there. It was a biggish boat with several hands. They not only steered the boat, they also looked after our comforts and cooked for us. The cabins were pretty well appointed and were comfortable.

I could imagine boats of similar dimensions, or maybe bigger, powered

Fishing in Matla

by the winds must have been used by the British to get to what now is Kolkata. They must have faced serious difficulties in hitting the right channel that would bring them to the mainland. Sunderban is a maze of streams and rivers through dense jungles, one could even get lost. Thickly vegetated and densely forested, even the locals find it tough to move around with the risk of being attacked by that regal predator, the Royal Bengal Tiger. No wonder, when the aliens came up against these massive animals in mangrove forests of Sunderbans, the obviously were in awe of it and named it Royal Bengal Tiger. It is not the English alone who faced the challenges of Sundarbans; there were others too, like the French and the Dutch.

As the boat calmly moved along the Matla River we saw the jungles on the two banks which would occasionally be disturbed by smaller game like the spotted deer. The width of the channel would vary at places where two flanks would come together to provide only a narrow channel. But our best efforts could not locate the presence of the big cat. Probably, all of them were yet to shake off the languor of their afternoon snooze.

We reached Pakhiraloy and came across a well-built rest house. Not many birds visited the site that evening; perhaps not the season for them to crowd around here. Next morning, however, some sort of commotion out in the open woke us up. There was an unmistakable pug mark of the Royal visitor. The expert among the lot said it was recent and probably of the preceding night. It was well and good that nobody was caught napping outside.

The excitement was over in minutes and we prepared ourselves to leave. The return trip was uneventful. We were back in Kolkata by the evening after having ”conquered” Sundarbans,

the great Indian mangrove forest, a bigger part of which has fallen into the territory of Bangladesh. But, in the times of Robert Clive It was Indian right through.