Legacy A translation from Samaresh Mazumdar (Approved)

The sky was filled with an afterglow, as the hue of the sunset was slowly progressing to a dense darkness. It felt, as if, it drizzled somewhere, in a yonder valley , a cool sensation of windchill was there to be felt along the way. Nevertheless, for quite a few days, the face of the sky was a spectacular one, quite a view. Clutters of foamy dense fog were royal enough to perceive, and they were slowly advancing toward the green velvet as they were folded along the tea plants over the forest of Khuntimari. A troublesome, estranged morbid feeling hung over the evening hours, as it seemed that the threads were tangled and these dragged threads were tracing to a marshy evening as the sky was turning into a rubbed surface of a slate. The forecast of rainfall was there throughout every day, on the height of a pin, in this hilly terrain.

Only there was no rain.

But, it did rain somewhere, nearby.

Perhaps on the mountain of Bhutan , it started raining. It started with a gusty wind blowing all over. With the full sleeve yellow pullover on, Ani realized that the day was drawing to the end. The lavish green leafy on the front of that house, was glowing with rays reflecting sunlight , that will be going to vanish within a blink or two perhaps. And along there, within a farther little distance, Surrounding the river Angravasa, where there lies the dense forest of Khuntimari , on top of which the sun winked this morning, and the sun which he wanted to hug this entire morn, gave Ani a strange feeling that the sun is now leaned toward the western sky, like a badminton cork, and spread a glimpse of silhouettes , everywhere. Ani was about to cry, with utter pain, inside.

Barefooted Ani came to the backside of that house. These grasses felt cold underneath the naked feet, a rather tingling sensation. Ma used to be angry if the flip-flop was not with him before going out, but Ani knew. no one was available, then. Everyone was busy organizing , in the centermost room of this huge quarter. No one was available to take care of things here.

Surrounding this house, there were trees, and only trees. Grandpa came here almost forty-five years ago. Every single tree had a unique story to tell. While In a good mood, Grandpa started to unfold those stories. Here, the big bushy jackfruit tree, that rests its shadow daylong in the yard, there, jackfruits were in bunches, sweet and juicy, cluttering near the base of the tree. That tree was planted by Ani’s old Grandma. Storytelling goes like this, that, at first, jackfruits used to be underneath the soil. Once ripened, the surface of the soil used to crack open, and the smell was a strong one. At night, foxes in groups used to come to snatch that jackfruit. Old grandma started to shout while lying in bed. At last, grandpa tied a small tin drum on the top branch of that jackfruit tree. That drum had a bell inside, tied to a rope. That rope had to enter the room under the tin shed roof with the other end, hooked to the bed stand. Grandpa used to laugh while in a jolly mood, “At night, awakened, I saw your grandma, was pulling that rope and a huge noise of that drum beating was happening, out there. Is there any power left in those groups of foxes, still, to snatch anything!”

Toward the end of the yard that led to the barn, near the entrance, there was a palm tree, its fruits were never ripe, that tree was planted by Grandma, the younger one. Older grandma died when Ani’s aunt was only three days old. Younger Grandma was the sister of older Grandma. That palm tree was a good-for-nothing. Aunt used to say. It is a mere tree with a male trait. Pa used to forbid cutting that tree, as younger Grandma planted it, There was nothing special in the tales of shadows, all rubbish talks. Many times, that tree was destined to be cut down. Weavebirds had their nests all over the tree. All day long birds were chirping, colorful birds, a very soothing scene. Apart from that, the seasoned shadows on the yard made Grandpa determined to prohibit cutting that tree. That is why, Aunt used to say, that shadows are all rubbish talks. On many days, Ani felt those blown away nests, lying on the ground, such a soft sensation! Even though those birds, carefree, started once again, to build their nests. Jhari Uncle told Ani one day, “The landlord has two wives, one is the jackfruit tree, and the other one is the palm tree. “ Ani was quite amused to hear that.

Just after exiting from the front door, Ani could hear the distant voice of Kali, the cow. Such a familiarity with human sound, an emotion starts to brim within the heart! Kali was standing in front of the barn. Where did her children go? Ma forbids to increase the number of the cows in headcounts. Once there are more than four, a responsible one shows up from the market and takes the cow to sell in the market. That money was handed to Ma, all the cows do belong to her, Kali is not for sale. Regardless of her producing milk or not, she became a family member. Ani saw Kali, staring with wide open eyes. Why did her eyes sing so much melancholy? Ani felt an overwhelming whim, almost a heartache. Could she guess any clue? Ani touched gently with the hand, and right away, the cow raised her gaze. Ani rubbed her dew-lap area, for a long pause of time. It is not the everyday mannerism that comes with this cuddling time. As if, she really understood that Ani will leave from here, for good. Gently he took the hand off, and started walking. Those Giant Calotropis , headlong, were sowed along the circumference of the barn, fenced within. While crossing those plants, Ani looked back. That cow was still gazing at him. Ani started running.

There are no houses on the backside of the barn. Mingled with those large dense trees, fallen mangoes and plums are also visible there. The light of the day is almost diminished now.While coming back, running, Ani could hear the sound of the white breasted waterhen. Just like every other day, her croon was progressing continuously from under the bushy plum tree with a deep sadness, only to be felt. That white breasted waterhen has a white area near the neck. Ani saw her many more days, other than today. Jhari Uncle says, white breasted water hen has very tasty flesh. Jhari Uncle failed on the target even after trying with a slingshot. That white breasted waterhen is a clever one. Now it is almost the twilight hour, it felt morbid with the sound of the bird. Ani stood on the lonely rock on the river, Angravasa, where people wash their clothes. Those sparkling waves are, as if , the new teacher of their school, moving swiftly, without looking, anywhere. Leaning down, he observed his reflection on the water of Angravasa river. Without notifying Ma, they often bathe in this river. Small pebblestones of a running river, floating eloquence of a meandering river, touching the knee. Ani knows about the gemstones of this river, the whereabouts of those. Beneath those gigantic yellow stones, those huge lobsters rest for a while. Once touching with these hands, Ani will fail to hold like every other day. Those nomadic days are passing so swiftly, as a chocolate melts inside the mouth, in no time. Ani felt sad, overwhelmingly sad.

Now, there is no one here. On both sides of the river Angravasa, those large mango trees had returning birds , intermingled with voices with strong sounds, for the one last time. A strange stale smell is rising from the floating Angravasa. The river is fifteen feet wide. A turbulent and fierce river, Angravasa, went downstream through a tea - plantation. The huge wheel of the factory is run by the river current. It says that the eddies of this river are like the heartbeats of the lost heaven, Shorgochenra. Yet, they traveled numerous times, crossing here, leaving underneath those loose pebblestones, lying under bare feet. When those tribal girls come here from the other side, then, their black linens - wrapped around their waistlines, touch the river surface, as if a water lily is casting shadows, silhouettes. That linen is called Angra. Henceforth, the name of the river is Angravasa. Too many tides are there in this shallow river, so large fishes are not frequent in roaming around on this side. Nevertheless, a stale smell, a smell unique to this river, is predominant everywhere. Once closed, mortal eyes are able to perceive the murmuring river sounds, in harmony of music, of mother nature.

Ani wrapped the sleeve, and quickly leaned forward to lift the stone, frequently used for washing clothes.`A lightweight , flat stone. After the muddy river water dispersed, Ani saw a gigantic black crab with large claws, staring at him from underneath the water surface, with big, round eyes. Then, it stepped into the depth of the river, with a dancing rhythm. A platoon of small fish were progressing through the river. Vibrations of sensation. Through the cracks of the small whitish stones , Ani saw a big red lobster with long tentacles. Suddenly, the stone roof overhead shifted a bit, Ani was in a fix in deciding what to do. Holding the stone with the left hand, Ani grabbed the fish. He lowered the stone, then sat on it. In his grip, that fish was still trying to breathe , alive. Under the belly, its tentacles had a tale of a thousand feet , dancing in energy. Ani pondered through a deep heartache, simply to perceive that he would never see that fish, again, in a lifetime, never ever ! He observed his palm under the water. Afflux of Incoming story of floating water, passing through fingers, these. And then. He heard voices nearby. He looked up, saw two tribal girls approaching the riverbank. With their carriers overhead, they were coming from the other side, taking the path that leads to the jungle, in the background. Perhaps, the factory closed for the day. Apparently, they can be a mother-daughter duo, too. Leaving the carriers aside, on the riverbank, they got into the cold water of the river. They sprinkled water on their faces. Then they got up from the water, saw Ani. The younger one was pointing to Ani, and told the older one, “ Grandkid of the old pal!”

The older one turned back and saw Ani. This one was simpering with her big ponytail, “ That lad did not grow a mustache yet, finish quickly.” Ani understood. He is still young, without a mustache. The older one was reminding the younger one to finish something. The younger one heard the older one, folded knee to settle the Angra in the middle of the river to place position. The natural sound, quite in discord with the murmuring sound of the river Angravasa, alerted Ani, he turned toward the source once, and then without looking anywhere, he started running through the grasses. Darkness was overcasting thick enigma slowly, through the meadows, and Ani ran , as swiftly as he believed he could, toward home. From behind, those two tribal girls were still giggling, “Are you uncomfortable there, kiddo?” They, and their mayhem in laughter, stopped that white breasted waterhen too, perhaps. A deadstop in silence.

Entering the yard, Ani saw the lit-up glow of the lantern. There is still no electricity in Shorgochenra tea garden. Only in the factory, dynamo is used for electricity. Maheetosh built a small tin-shed storage on the backside of the house. Maheetosh, quite a man of taste, ordered a dynamo from Calcutta. It will be delivered any day soon. Wiring is incomplete, still coiled threads of electricity are available in every room, neatly arranged. The thick dense black, on the top of the palm tree, takes shape on the branches of the jackfruit tree in a strange , awkward monstrous silence, fossilized. Ani yearned to perceive these with electricity, how these will all be different then!

Once Maheetosh is all set with the dynamo, this will count as the very first house with electricity in this area. Let alone Shorgochenra, no single house in any of these tea- gardens nearby, is equipped with electricity, so far. But the problem for Ani is that he is not even sure when the dynamo will be delivered, what will be the use of it, if it gets delivered once they are gone! Why does not Pa try to expedite, to get it delivered from Calcutta sooner? Just a few days ago , the first radio arrived in their house. Their house means Shorgochenra, the firstmost one to arrive in Shorgochenra. Maheetosh, himself took leave and went for a trip to Calcutta. On the way back, he bought this big radio set and took it with him. Not only a radio set, but along with it a speaker was also there, a separate one. The radio used to play in the living room, curious guests used to gather to listen to that radio. Maheetosh attached a cord with it, and took the speaker fifty yards more, near Asam road. He hung the speaker on a branch of the big Royal Poinciana tree. And along the path, tribal folks used to gather to hear the radio, “All India radio, Calcutta.”

After the arrival of the radio, the whole house got completely changed overnight. Saritshekhar waits beside the radio, with bunches of old people, from dawn to dusk, to hear news. The uncle, the youngest one in the family, listens to modern songs, when there is no one around. At night, when there is a drama scheduled to be aired, the radio speaker was sent to the room inside and Maheetosh turns on the radio in higher volume. That day Ma and aunts get into a rush to wrap up the kitchen chores earlier by the evening hour. When it is exactly eight o’ clock, everyone gathers around the yard, inside. They listen to the radio which airs the drama , while they make themselves cozy and comfortable, sitting on a rug. Then no one can gossip, there are days when Ani falls asleep, while the drama is still going on. Now–a-days, not this family only, for this drama, ladies from all the surrounding quarters gather here at Ani’s quarter by evening time. A single rug does not fit for all, then. Gathering all the little kids around, Ma tells Ani, “ Ani, go, play with them.” Ani finds it quite disturbing. Rather, when the pitch black darkness outside is stuck in the night, and the radio plays a melancholic tune, “O, My mortal eden has gone dry!”, a strange silence creeps in solitude, heartache. Ani feels like crying to see Ma, full of tears, then.

Now, the radio is not playing in the living room. Saritshekhar or Maheetosh has not returned home, yet. The lamp is already kindled underneath the holy basil tree. Stepping into the yard, inside , Ani heard Ma, “ Ani, where have you been?” Ani remained silent. Ma asked Ani, once more .”Are you hungry?” Ani’s gesture was in negation. Then, he came out. In the living room, outside, the big lantern is lit already.In the front, The green leafy on the front of that house had a clubroom beside the area, Jhari Uncle mopped that room, and lit the lamp there, already. Out there in the distant darkness, one after another vehicle was passing through Asam Road. Ani saw no fireflies there. After the lantern glowed , bright and sure, Jhari Uncle mounted it on a ring. And then, the entire lobby got lit up, as clear as a blessed day. Underneath the lamp, Jhari Uncle seemed rather an undersized one. Wearing a loose half pant , knee-long, and loosely fit Jerkin , Jhari Uncle was looking above, straight toward the lantern.

Right then, Ani heard the bells of the bikes. Through the tea-garden, a whitish path full of pebblestones, led toward the factory entrance. Those bikes were approaching along that path. Out in the horizon, the twilight hue is gone, and now, the distant starlight was dispersing in a mood of uncertain obscurity. Ani, from the yard , could still figure out those shed trees in arrays arranged in this big tea garden. Ten or twelve bicycles were approaching in groups frequently, and their bells could be heard , each time. At times, the torches were on, to track the way to move forward. This stretch , almost two miles long, had dense tea forests on both sides and shed trees mingled within. People do not roam around here that frequently, once the sunlight is gone for the day.

Once the siren of six 0 clock went off, a returning platoon of people were seen , riding on their bikes. Now, a gentle breeze is blowing with an intermittent churn, waves of rhythms. The lonely slender tail grape tree was standing in the front yard and a bunch of crickets were buzzing in chorus, a strong sound was resonating from there, as a saw may sound in an ordinary ear. Those sounds of the bells of the bikes grew stronger, louder. Then, once they took the turn to pass the gate of the tea forest, Ani was able to see them. Each one of the torchlights was piercing through the darkness in an allegory of a long sword as they were forkening the dark night to make way to each one of those quarters. At last, Ani could see Pa. Hazy shadows of Pa’s shirt and pants were visible from here. Maheetosh slowed down the bike and turned the torchlight off.

Then, he parked his bike near the slender bench in front of that house and stepped in the varanda. Maheetosh is of age of about thirty-five years, and usually he wears pants, fullpants. None of this tea - garden wears that. Socks tightly attached till the garter, khaki half pants and half-sleeve bush shirts, these were the usual dress codes of the tea garden officers. Some of the groups, their tasks were mostly to roam around in the sun, they usually wear a solar hat. While commuting with the bike, the edges of the pants are often tightened , using attached clips. Maheetosh, a neat appearance with a clean shaved face, had hair, trimmed short, and curly, like black men. While he used to smile, all his misaligned teeth could be seen, too. Stepping inside the Veranda, Maheetosh spoke to his son,

“The river will be closed tonight.”

He gently touched Ani’s head, touched his hair and left to enter the house.

Ani was puzzled, and he looked there ,within, perplexed and unsure, as his father left. The river will be closed . This river Angravasa will be closed today. Before this, last year, when Ani was much younger, the river Angravasa was closed. The closure happened late at night. That time, Ani, along with all other family members, were at home, resting in deep sleep. The next day , Jhari Uncle brought a drum, filled with Prawns and crabs, to tell them that they could catch only these fishes as the river got closed. Ani ran, and ran straight up to the river and standing near the river bank, he realized that he felt sorry, deeply sorry. The river turned dry. There was no trace of a droplet of water, none. Some dogs were smelling something in the layers of Soggy fern and small pebblestones. Ani stepped and gradually reached the middle of a dry and barren river, a familiar image of a skeleton is an exact simile of her, Angravasa. And then he felt a tingling sensation underneath his feet, one little red crab was out of its hole . As soon as it saw Ani, It vanished quickly inside the hole. Lots of small fishes and snails were scattered in the mud, here and there. Ani felt sorry for a missed opportunity, if he could only see how the water ran dry suddenly!

What were those fishes doing, then?

Then, at night, the river was rejuvenated again. Ani could not see that , either. As the next day felt the morning sun along the river bank, Ani perceived things were exactly the same, as before, as if nothing had changed. The enchanting murmurs of the river water, eternal virgin song of an estuary. Only the stone used for washing those clothes was sitting lonely, there were no fishes underneath that stone. It happens once a year. The meandering river touched the funeral house , delicately , and ran beside the greenfield ,where the river training forked the floating water diving its courses, one of which went further downstream, by the side of the harvesting paddy field, and touching the union station, finally approached down to the river , Duduya. On the other side, river water took its course along and at its entrance an embankment controlled the river current, underneath this cement construction, river water ran, with all its natural eloquence, until it finally reached the receiving end of the factory. The current is higher on this side. When that huge wheel of that factory gets stuck in piles of filth, and piles up in mountainous chores , a mammoth task indeed, then the entrance of the gate is closed . Water then runs to the other side, this side remains dry. In the factory, then they started to clean the wheel. Today, the river will be closed again. When? Ani felt a strong sensation under his feet, he felt emotional. He must watch that, today. While turning back, Ani saw another torchlight, approaching him. After returning home, Maheetosh turned the radio on. A gathering is occurring now. Ani saw one torchlight, approaching , beckoning randomly as someone might be stomping and jumping in the dark . Ani knew this light. Ani felt submerged into the darkness. Under his bare feet, cold air and dew drops gave him a cold sensation. The torch was approaching him, and Ani started running toward it. Then from that dark , he saw an emerging body, large and tall. Dhuti was up to the knee and below. Loose punjabi, and a cain- Sarit shekhar is coming. With his bag behind him, Baku Sardar is coming too. Suddenly , Saritshekhar halted, between his walking. Then he turned on his torchlight, to be lit with five batteries, and he held the torchlight , straight upright in the front. The torchlight was dragging Ani to advance further and farther forward. Ani , lighthearted Ani crossed the longest route within a blink of an eye and jumped to embrace Grandpa Sarit Sekhar. Sarit Shekhar turned the torchlight off right then, and asked him politely, holding him with both hands,

“What happened , dadu bhai?”

Ani responded from his chest, almost whispering,” I will see the river closure tonight!”