“Tomorrow, we will be leaving at 5 in the morning” Santanu announced and added “We got the permit for hunting”.
It was a Friday evening when the usual group had come to the Sengupta residence. Santanu Lahiri had arrived with his wife Nirmala. They both were a bit older but that didn’t deter them from being part of the social escapades of the Senguptas which had become the talk of the town. Santanu was the eldest son of the founder of Chirimiri, Mr. D.K.Lahiri. He was slightly overweight but had an amazing personality and naturally had become the leader of the social group. Nirmala on the other hand didn’t look her age at all. She must have been about 45 years old but with stunning looks and perfectly shaped figure could pass of as a 30 year old. Anuradha among all other people that she knew had bonded with her, whether it was going to the movies, shopping or simple gossip. She too reciprocated equally and treated Anuradha as if she were her own daughter. Both her children Aparna and Arghya were married. Aparna was married to an Engineer in the United States and Arghya had taken up a job with the Kenyan Mining Corporation. To Nirmala, Amitabha and Anuradha were an escape to the void that surrounded her.
Aranya Gupta arrived a bit late with his wife Shobha and their two children Toto and Moni and making himself comfortable in the living room sat next to Santanu. The kids both around the same age, 6 and 7 started playing with Rahul under the watchful eyes of Barouni.
He had recently become the General Manager of Chirimiri colliery. It may have been something for him to celebrate but it was more of an unfortunate event which catapulted him to such an important position. Mr. AnolTarak Bhattacharya the earlier GM got killed in an accident which had prompted an enquiry by the National Security Council. One fine morning he was inspecting one of the under ground road headers when he slipped and the broom mounted cutting head ripped his head off. The attached Huwood conveyor belt which had dutifully transported coal out of the pit, that day, had also transported Mr. Bhattacharya.
Rani and Mriganayani were busy helping Anuradha with the snacks. They were around the same age, close to 21 and old enough to start their own families. Rani was the only daughter of Dr. Chakraborty who had migrated in search of better prospects. Mriganayani on the other hand was an admin staff in D.K.Lahiri College. She had come to this far away place in the midst of a jungle from Calcutta all on her own and stayed in the staff hostel. It was rumored that she was having an affair with Srikanto Lahiri, a professor of the same college that she worked for.
Probir Dasgupta was tuning his Sarod in the living room sitting on the carpet. He worked for the National Security Council and had an interesting job. During those days it was difficult spreading awareness among miners regarding the dangers of working in the mines. His job was to show documentaries on security measures shot on 8mm and 16mm films. He used to travel to all the collieries and would assemble the miners and show them these films which served both as entertainment as well as educational.
Having considerably mastered the Sarod he took care of the cultural aspect of the social club. Anuradha and Probir were both from Ranchi, they knew each other and she also knew that he was madly in love with Mriganayani.
The strumming of the strings filled the large living room. Probir played the Purva raga, which symbolized the falling in love of Radha and Krishna from the epic Mahabharata, maybe trying his best to impress Mriganayani. From the corner of her eyes Mriganayani looked at Probir from the kitchen where she was preparing Samosas.
Probir must have missed a beat as Santanu exclaimed.
“What are you doing Probir, you just missed a beat”
Partha was busy helping Amitabha with the drinks. He was very thin and had a dark complexion. His long and bony fingers flashed numerous rings with precious jewels embedded on them. A firm believer of astrology like most of the Bengalis was advised by one such astrologer to wear those.
“Don’t worry, you will get a very good wife” A local astrologer had forecaster looking at his Kundali and had scribbled names of jewels that he was suppose to wear on a piece of paper. Before handing it over to him he reminded him “Don’t forget to buy them from Sarno jewelers, OK”.
It had taken him about two hours to find the shop located in Bow Bazaar in Calcutta.
“How is Rita doing?” Amitabha asked Partha. The grin was all over his face.
“You will be the first to know, Right?” He replied being a bit sarcastic.
Partha used to stay with Mr. R.A.Kumar an executive engineer for excavation who was an expert on heavy earth moving vehicles. They had a mutual understanding which was a unique one by itself. Mr. Kumar had a Bungalow and had rented Partha a room as his family stayed somewhere in Uttar Pradesh. But when his family visited him every year for a month or so, Partha was suppose to stay outside. Amitabha being a good friend would let him stay in his house. Partha who worked for the Coal Controller department was very much in love with Rita, Mr. Kumar’s eldest daughter which he was not very keen about and kept a close tag on them.
All the men were on one side sharing jokes and sipping their drinks, the women on the other side murmuring and giggling and the children were all over the place. Probir played on and kept missing beats which was promptly highlighted by Santanu. Finally it was about 9pm when the party ended. All the men were excited about the next morning to come as they were all going for a hunting trip to the jungle.
“So at 5am we all will be here at your place” Santanu reminded Amitabha before he left.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Going to Chirimiri
Anuradha’s husband Amitabha Sengupta got home late in the evening on the 15th of December 1966. While having tea, which was promptly served with his arrival, he announced
“We have to go to Chirimiri, I have been transferred”
“Rahul is just three months old, how will we manage there?” Anuradha exclaimed and added after a brief pause “Where on earth is Chirimiri?” Her face had a definite worried look.
“We will figure that out when we reach” Amitabha sternly replied leaving no chance for his wife to argue and then added.
“It’s in Madhya Pradesh”
They started from Ranchi, a small town in the state of Bihar, in the wee hours of January 1967 . The rented car was a mark II ambassador. The journey was a long and tedious one, a full 300 Kilometers. By the time they reached, it was dark and they were completely drained out.
The house they had rented belonged to one of the most prominent families in that area; The Lahiris were the owners of the surrounding collieries and were regarded as the founders of the place. Situated on a hill top one could view the railway station at the foot hills and could savor the panoramic view of the surrounding hills. It had about 11 rooms in total, 6 on the top floor and the rest on the ground floor.
So the Senguptas finally made themselves comfortable in the top floor apartment.
“I never though this place would be so beautiful” Anuradha exclaimed one day while she and Amitabha were having Tea one evening.
“Did you know that Satyajit Ray shot some parts of the movie called Apur Sansar here” Amitabha said with a smile and added “He got mesmerized by the hills and the landscape”
“No wonder” Anuradha continued “Where would they find such a place near Calcutta”
Anuradha was a beautiful woman. She was about 5 feet 4 inches tall and had a petit frame. She had almond shaped light brown eyes and very thin eye brows. Her long brown hair was always tied at the back resembling a bun. She had pale skin. The soft and innocent face made her stand apart from the crowd. To top it all she had a heart of gold. At an age of 21 others considered her as the perfect hostess.
Amitabha was stout and muscular. Had broad shoulders and with his thick moustache and curly back brushed hair looked very manly. He wasn’t very tall but had an amazing personality. If one were to comment then what came to people’s mind were his self confidence and his articulation. At the age of 30 he had already become a Manager of a reputed British company.
Barouni sat next to them with Rahul.
“Barouni, do you know where Calcutta is?” Anuradha asked her.
“No, but I hear that it’s a very big city, so big that you need trains to travel from one place to the other” Barouni proudly answered widening her eyes.
They both amusingly smiled, they were sure that she was referring to the trams that ply inside the city. Anuradha wondered whether she was aware how slow they were.
Barouni, a native of that place had become a surrogate mother to the Senguptas. An old lady despite of her language barrier and her age became a part of their small family. Whether it was taking care of Rahul or household work, Anuradha completely depended on her.
Amitabha’s office was on the next hill and one could see it from the top floor terrace. During the week at lunch hour Barouni and Anuradha used to go to the terrace and stand there, once they saw Amitabha’s Jeep coming out of the office gate they started laying the food on the table. By the time they were done, Amitabha was home for lunch.
“Let’s settle down here in Chirimiri” Once Anuradha confided to Amitabha.
Amitabha had smiled and said nothing.
“We have to go to Chirimiri, I have been transferred”
“Rahul is just three months old, how will we manage there?” Anuradha exclaimed and added after a brief pause “Where on earth is Chirimiri?” Her face had a definite worried look.
“We will figure that out when we reach” Amitabha sternly replied leaving no chance for his wife to argue and then added.
“It’s in Madhya Pradesh”
They started from Ranchi, a small town in the state of Bihar, in the wee hours of January 1967 . The rented car was a mark II ambassador. The journey was a long and tedious one, a full 300 Kilometers. By the time they reached, it was dark and they were completely drained out.
The house they had rented belonged to one of the most prominent families in that area; The Lahiris were the owners of the surrounding collieries and were regarded as the founders of the place. Situated on a hill top one could view the railway station at the foot hills and could savor the panoramic view of the surrounding hills. It had about 11 rooms in total, 6 on the top floor and the rest on the ground floor.
So the Senguptas finally made themselves comfortable in the top floor apartment.
“I never though this place would be so beautiful” Anuradha exclaimed one day while she and Amitabha were having Tea one evening.
“Did you know that Satyajit Ray shot some parts of the movie called Apur Sansar here” Amitabha said with a smile and added “He got mesmerized by the hills and the landscape”
“No wonder” Anuradha continued “Where would they find such a place near Calcutta”
Anuradha was a beautiful woman. She was about 5 feet 4 inches tall and had a petit frame. She had almond shaped light brown eyes and very thin eye brows. Her long brown hair was always tied at the back resembling a bun. She had pale skin. The soft and innocent face made her stand apart from the crowd. To top it all she had a heart of gold. At an age of 21 others considered her as the perfect hostess.
Amitabha was stout and muscular. Had broad shoulders and with his thick moustache and curly back brushed hair looked very manly. He wasn’t very tall but had an amazing personality. If one were to comment then what came to people’s mind were his self confidence and his articulation. At the age of 30 he had already become a Manager of a reputed British company.
Barouni sat next to them with Rahul.
“Barouni, do you know where Calcutta is?” Anuradha asked her.
“No, but I hear that it’s a very big city, so big that you need trains to travel from one place to the other” Barouni proudly answered widening her eyes.
They both amusingly smiled, they were sure that she was referring to the trams that ply inside the city. Anuradha wondered whether she was aware how slow they were.
Barouni, a native of that place had become a surrogate mother to the Senguptas. An old lady despite of her language barrier and her age became a part of their small family. Whether it was taking care of Rahul or household work, Anuradha completely depended on her.
Amitabha’s office was on the next hill and one could see it from the top floor terrace. During the week at lunch hour Barouni and Anuradha used to go to the terrace and stand there, once they saw Amitabha’s Jeep coming out of the office gate they started laying the food on the table. By the time they were done, Amitabha was home for lunch.
“Let’s settle down here in Chirimiri” Once Anuradha confided to Amitabha.
Amitabha had smiled and said nothing.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
The Apartment and the American Dream
After three months of struggling, Rahul and Moksha finally managed to shift to an apartment of their own. They had also managed to buy a two door black Honda civic with a moon roof. The monthly EMI came to about $375 but money was never an issue with them. Their DINK status had assured them the comfort.
The three months that they stayed in the company guest house were not so bad either. Jignesh had moved to a new apartment sometime during the second month after a lot of persuasion and regular hints. Minakshi and Moksha became the best of friends and were almost inseparable. Rahul on the other hand had nothing much to complain about. They took the Caltrain to San Francisco every day sharp at 7 in the morning and were back by 7 pm. The 1976 built EMD F40PH trains were regular, dependable and the journey was quite comfortable.
The Sunnyvale station was about 10 minutes walk from the apartment, they got down at 4th and King in SF and walked another 20 minutes to their work place. But that was before they owned their car.
The apartment had a single bedroom with an attached bath. The living room was spacious with a small portico. The kitchen was narrow but was well designed. The entrance was wide and had a big Avocado tree. Opposite to the house there was a school which had a huge playground. This was in fact the beginning as the task of furnishing the apartment was a bigger challenge. The futon was the first to arrive followed by the cot, which was picked up from a furniture shop down El Camino. Within days they had a home of their choice. So Mister and Misses Sengupta parked themselves at 780 Morse Avenue.
“Can you switch on the room heater?” Moksha asked Rahul.
“Sure” He replied and went about the task of switching on the Gas-fire vented room heater.
After about 10 minutes Rahul realized that this was a different beast. It had no visible switch. After a quick call to the Mrs. Dianne the apartment owner, he came to know that it was a gas operated heater and he had to use a match box to light it up and that there was a small lever which had to be operated for the gas to flow. By the time the room heater was fully operational an hour had passed and Moksha was fast asleep.
All in all the Sengupta’s were beginning to realize the American dream. First the brand new car; then the apartment and not to mention the regular visit to Albertson and Wall Mart and of course the weekly visit to COSTCO and FRY’s.
Pizzas became a regular dinner table delicacy; Burger King the lunchtime favorite and on some occasions Sweet Tomato’s. The choices were many, be it Taco Bell or the Indian restaurant which served buffet during the afternoons or Subway near Kifer Road.
Within another 6 months they bought another car. It was a 2nd generation MX5 Mazda Miata, the convertible was a slick machine. It had a 1.8 liter turbocharged engine with a 5-speed manual gear.
During weekends they drove to the Palo Alto hills and Rahul boasted his driving skills to Moksha. It mostly ended with a visit to the beach during the evening when few souls could be found. Rahul would roll up his beige Route 66 trousers and Moksha would follow him around.
Sometimes, they drove to Livermore where Rahul’s aunt lived. His aunt and uncle were residents of the states and had a son and a daughter. One of those early academic settlers in the United States, they had been around for about 40 years or so and were more American than Indian.
“I just don’t feel comfortable.” Moksha had remarked during one of those visits.
“Well, I guess you will get used to the way of life here” Rahul had assured her.
The three months that they stayed in the company guest house were not so bad either. Jignesh had moved to a new apartment sometime during the second month after a lot of persuasion and regular hints. Minakshi and Moksha became the best of friends and were almost inseparable. Rahul on the other hand had nothing much to complain about. They took the Caltrain to San Francisco every day sharp at 7 in the morning and were back by 7 pm. The 1976 built EMD F40PH trains were regular, dependable and the journey was quite comfortable.
The Sunnyvale station was about 10 minutes walk from the apartment, they got down at 4th and King in SF and walked another 20 minutes to their work place. But that was before they owned their car.
The apartment had a single bedroom with an attached bath. The living room was spacious with a small portico. The kitchen was narrow but was well designed. The entrance was wide and had a big Avocado tree. Opposite to the house there was a school which had a huge playground. This was in fact the beginning as the task of furnishing the apartment was a bigger challenge. The futon was the first to arrive followed by the cot, which was picked up from a furniture shop down El Camino. Within days they had a home of their choice. So Mister and Misses Sengupta parked themselves at 780 Morse Avenue.
“Can you switch on the room heater?” Moksha asked Rahul.
“Sure” He replied and went about the task of switching on the Gas-fire vented room heater.
After about 10 minutes Rahul realized that this was a different beast. It had no visible switch. After a quick call to the Mrs. Dianne the apartment owner, he came to know that it was a gas operated heater and he had to use a match box to light it up and that there was a small lever which had to be operated for the gas to flow. By the time the room heater was fully operational an hour had passed and Moksha was fast asleep.
All in all the Sengupta’s were beginning to realize the American dream. First the brand new car; then the apartment and not to mention the regular visit to Albertson and Wall Mart and of course the weekly visit to COSTCO and FRY’s.
Pizzas became a regular dinner table delicacy; Burger King the lunchtime favorite and on some occasions Sweet Tomato’s. The choices were many, be it Taco Bell or the Indian restaurant which served buffet during the afternoons or Subway near Kifer Road.
Within another 6 months they bought another car. It was a 2nd generation MX5 Mazda Miata, the convertible was a slick machine. It had a 1.8 liter turbocharged engine with a 5-speed manual gear.
During weekends they drove to the Palo Alto hills and Rahul boasted his driving skills to Moksha. It mostly ended with a visit to the beach during the evening when few souls could be found. Rahul would roll up his beige Route 66 trousers and Moksha would follow him around.
Sometimes, they drove to Livermore where Rahul’s aunt lived. His aunt and uncle were residents of the states and had a son and a daughter. One of those early academic settlers in the United States, they had been around for about 40 years or so and were more American than Indian.
“I just don’t feel comfortable.” Moksha had remarked during one of those visits.
“Well, I guess you will get used to the way of life here” Rahul had assured her.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
The Temporary Home
Rahul and Moksha had just got married, in fact about a week ago before they took that long flight to San Francisco. No, it wasn’t one of those Bengali men getting a dutiful wife from Calcutta. They both were on a L1 visa to work for a software company.
Moksha was taller compared to the average Indian women. At 5 feet 7 inches with a petite structure could easily pass off as a model. She had high cheek bones and her cute nose separated her wide eyes evenly. Her upper lip protruded a bit in contrast to the lower, perfect for a face that was oval. The Auburn hair added to the overall appeal. In short she was an attractive woman.
Much like Moksha, Rahul was tall about 6 feet and lanky. He had a sharp aquiline nose and small watery eyes with thin eyebrows that arched evenly on either side. His complexion was wheatish which lent him that Middle Eastern look. The long dark hair which hid his forehead at the front was parted in the middle. If one had to comment on how he looked the answer would be – good looking!
They had known each other for about 5 long years before they finally decided to get married and eventually set foot on this faraway land. She came from a very conservative Gujarati family and he was a product of a conservative-corporate mix. The announcement of their marriage hadn’t gone very well with either of the families so they decided that staying away from their respective families would be good in the long run.
After taking a right on N. Mathilda they hit California Street, driving further down the road they finally reached Briarwood apartments; Their final destination for the day. It had taken them about an hour to cover the 35 miles from SF Airport on a Bay area shuttle van that they had finally managed for $80.
The company that they worked for had arranged for their stay. The apartment was quite spacious; it had two bedrooms, one with an attached bath, on either side of the living room. The kitchen separated out from the living room at the far end and next to it was a common bath. Well, the only catch was that apart from Rahul and Moksha there would two more people living with them.
Minakshi a stunning 28 year old Bengali girl and Jignesh a 24 year old Gujarati guy who could easily be mistaken for a Bollywood hero till he spoke. Both were from Calcutta. They were acquaintances from back home and worked for the same company. But the idea didn’t gel well with Moksha.
“How can we all stay in the same apartment?” Moksha questioned Rahul when they had a private moment.
With a bit of persuasion Rahul convinced her that this was a temporary arrangement as they would be having their own apartment very soon.
So there they were, two Bengalis and two Gujaratis all set to live the American dream. The arrangement was simple the bedroom with the attached bath went to Rahul and Moksha, the other bedroom Minakshi had already claimed. What remained of the apartment belonged to Jignesh; the kitchen too!
Moksha was taller compared to the average Indian women. At 5 feet 7 inches with a petite structure could easily pass off as a model. She had high cheek bones and her cute nose separated her wide eyes evenly. Her upper lip protruded a bit in contrast to the lower, perfect for a face that was oval. The Auburn hair added to the overall appeal. In short she was an attractive woman.
Much like Moksha, Rahul was tall about 6 feet and lanky. He had a sharp aquiline nose and small watery eyes with thin eyebrows that arched evenly on either side. His complexion was wheatish which lent him that Middle Eastern look. The long dark hair which hid his forehead at the front was parted in the middle. If one had to comment on how he looked the answer would be – good looking!
They had known each other for about 5 long years before they finally decided to get married and eventually set foot on this faraway land. She came from a very conservative Gujarati family and he was a product of a conservative-corporate mix. The announcement of their marriage hadn’t gone very well with either of the families so they decided that staying away from their respective families would be good in the long run.
After taking a right on N. Mathilda they hit California Street, driving further down the road they finally reached Briarwood apartments; Their final destination for the day. It had taken them about an hour to cover the 35 miles from SF Airport on a Bay area shuttle van that they had finally managed for $80.
The company that they worked for had arranged for their stay. The apartment was quite spacious; it had two bedrooms, one with an attached bath, on either side of the living room. The kitchen separated out from the living room at the far end and next to it was a common bath. Well, the only catch was that apart from Rahul and Moksha there would two more people living with them.
Minakshi a stunning 28 year old Bengali girl and Jignesh a 24 year old Gujarati guy who could easily be mistaken for a Bollywood hero till he spoke. Both were from Calcutta. They were acquaintances from back home and worked for the same company. But the idea didn’t gel well with Moksha.
“How can we all stay in the same apartment?” Moksha questioned Rahul when they had a private moment.
With a bit of persuasion Rahul convinced her that this was a temporary arrangement as they would be having their own apartment very soon.
So there they were, two Bengalis and two Gujaratis all set to live the American dream. The arrangement was simple the bedroom with the attached bath went to Rahul and Moksha, the other bedroom Minakshi had already claimed. What remained of the apartment belonged to Jignesh; the kitchen too!
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