The Places Which Are Mine

 Introduction

 

One of my friends who is also a Chartered Accountant says that most if not all the places he refers to I respond saying that it is my place. He asks if there is any place which isn’t mine. I told him I will send on WhatsApp an exhaustive list of all the places which are mine. While giving it a thought yesterday I thought why not write an article on this and after getting it previewed by him I will publish it.

 

The Places

 

We originally hail from a place called Nimtita. It is a village in the Jangipur subdivision of  Murshidabad district.

 

Nimtita Rajbari, on the banks of the Ganges, is now a dilapidated structure, a testimony of a glorious past. It had inspired Tarashankar Bandopadhyay to write a short-story about a man who refused to change with the times. He saw the mighty river gobble up his estates, but would not give up. Satyajit Ray made one of his great films based on that story – Jalsaghar, with the legendary Chhabi Biswas in the lead role. It was shot at Nimtita Rajbari in 1957.

 

I have never been there but heard from my father that he studied in Gour Sundar Dwarakanath Institution. My grandfather who was a police officer during the British regime had to leave Nimtita and relocate with his family and settle in Shashani, a village in Malda district. I have been there along with my parents while studying in school at Darjeeling. One of my uncles lived and worked in Malda.

 

My father who was a professor in the West Bengal Education Service taught in many government colleges. That gave us an opportunity to live in many places for a few years. When he got his promotion to Assistant Professor he was transferred from Krishnanagar Government College, his first place of posting, to Victoria College, Cooch Behar just after I was born. So it came as a double delight for him. My parents remembered Cooch Behar fondly as it always brought back beautiful memories of their stay. I do not remember those memories as I was too small then. A toddler.  

 

After that my father was transferred to Hooghly Mohsin College. We lived in Chinsurah. I have beautiful memories of this place. I started my school journey here. My first school was Auxilium Convent School at Bandel. It was founded by The Salesian Sisters of Don Bosco. It is very close to The Basilica of the Holy Rosary, Bandel (Bandel Church).

 

During those days it was the only English medium school there. My mother is responsible for my education in English medium schools for which I will remain ever grateful to her.  

 

Then we go to live in the queen of the hill stations, Darjeeling. We call it Darj.

 

My father was transferred to Darjeeling Government College after a few years. I took admission in Mount Hermon School. It was an experience I am yet to forget. There are very few schools you have seen with such a huge and picturesque campus. It was the only coeducational school in Darj then. We enjoyed our stay at Darj and I studied till the middle of Class-6 there. My father was transferred to Presidency College, Kolkata. 

 

Mr. Graeme Murray (from New Zealand) our Principal had written two letters of recommendation to the respective Principals of Calcutta Boys’ School and St. Thomas’ Boys’ School, Kidderpore to help in my admission. I got admission into Calcutta Boys’ School from where I finished my schooling.

 

During my career post-qualification I have lived at Port Blair, Andaman Islands, Mumbai for a long time, Delhi, Gurgaon (now Gurugram) after which I have returned to Kolkata where I am living over the last decade.

Conclusion

 

Life is a long journey. It is made up of shorter journeys of all the people you meet, places you live in, and work at, the experiences you have both good and bad. Your journey will be good if all of this is good.   

 

The places I have lived in or emotionally connected to connect the dots from Nimtita to Kolkata. I am still travelling. Remembering all the places I have visited while doing my CA till now. The list goes on and on. Working in a Chennai (then Madras) headquartered general insurance company for the first ten years allowed me to connect deep into the south and then began my love for South Indian movies till date right from Rajinikanth to Allu Arjun.

 

One of my school friends says I am a nomad. A compliment I failed to understand till he explained. Nomad in this context is about variety and richness of exposure and I did get that, rather enviably. He says genuine nomads also are the most capable in dealing with life! Thanks a lot for this heartfelt gesture.

 

There can be no conclusions to an ongoing journey of life.

The Day I Met Him

When I was studying in Class-6 at Mount Hermon School, Darjeeling my father was transferred to Presidency College. Our Principal then was Mr. Graeme Murray. He was kind enough to write two letters of recommendation that would help in my admission at St. Thomas' Boys' School, Kidderpore or Calcutta Boys' School.

I still remember what my father had said after our visit to CBS. During the course of his conversation he had asked the Principal, Mr. Clifford Hicks, what is the school uniform. He looked at me and told him that I can come to school the way I was dressed that day. There's nothing to worry about. CBS doesn't have a school uniform.

I was blessed to be admitted to CBS. But there were more surprises in store. Coming from the only coeducational school in Darj with the best campus and being very expensive it was most surprising to note that CBS didn't have any tuition fees and the books came free.

Anyway the standard of the school, quality of teaching, the students and everything I encountered was way beyond me. When the results for the Second Term was declared Mr. Hicks had written this in my report card. Promotion is very doubtful.

I just remembered that day and wanted to share it with you.

p.s. I was promoted.

With Malice Toward None

 Introduction

I passed out from Calcutta Boys’ School (CBS) in 1975. The ISC examination was held in late-1974. The results were published in early 1975. After exactly half a century some of our batch mates, for which I would like to thank them from the bottom of my heart, have taken the effort to organise a reunion for our batch in December at Tollygunge Club.

This place is spread over 100-acres and is more than 200 years old. So, you can very well guess how good it is. A WhatsApp group has been made after tracing the mobile numbers of the students. Many are now located abroad and on different continents. At last count the number is 49. I passed out from the Humanities stream. Most of the members are from the Science stream.

I have been fortunate enough to reconnect with some of my batch mates with whom I was the closest. They say there is something divine for any good thing to happen. I strongly believe in that. I think that is the only way I have been able to find them. Here I will go back to my formative years and share some of the magic moments I have shared with my friends at CBS, those of which I still remember. There are so many you will lose count of. If any of that is left out now I promise I will continue writing my memoirs

The Memoirs

In our section I was closest to Partha Pratim Basu Chaudhury, Somnath Mukherjee and Sandip Gupta. I had taken great pains to find Partha and Somnath but with no result for such a long time. Today when I look back it was Partha about whom I did not have any trace whatsoever in spite of the best of my efforts.

Partha was and still is a very good singer. Both of us are diehard fans of Manna De. This brought us closer in our adolescence. He used to live at Nalin Sarkar Street in the northern part of this metropolis in the Hati Bagan area. The place is famous for the Durga Puja. I have been to his place several times. Those days I used to tell him to become a singer when he grows up. But boys will be boys.

Though he has continued singing he finished his splendid innings at National Bank of Agricultural and Rural Development (NABARD) in 2019. He divides his time now between Kolkata and Shantiniketan. I tease him and say that at Shantiniketan is your bagan badi. Bongs (Bengalis) will understand the latent humour. When do I hop in?  I hope we will now be able to make up for the lost time. It has been the longest wait. He hasn’t aged at all. I tried but couldn’t find a single crease on his face.  I don’t know how. I keep my fingers crossed. Botox lingers at the back of my mind. You can check yourselves. I have given below a pic to prove this, taken when he had come to my place last Sunday.     

Shantiniketan reminds me of Abir Ghosh, a very good friend of mine. He has settled there. I have spoken to him over the phone and hope to meet him sometime. His cousin (I have known him as his brother but that hardly makes any difference) and another good friend, Ashesh Ghosh gave me his number. I would like to thank him for that. Ashesh has settled in Mumbai and continues his business legacy.   

I shared a very good relationship with Somnath and his family. Emotional connect would be the right word. He lived at Mahendra Sarkar Street very close to our place and closer to CBS as well as Calcutta Girls’ School (CGS). I used to regularly visit his place. Both of us are lovers of good music. He had a good collection of records. I used to bring those 45 rpm records. I don’t remember the names of all but Har Mana Har is one of the many records I brought. The songs from this Uttam Kumar-Suchitra Sen movie still linger in my mind and occasionally refresh my mood even now.

Sandip had told me a long time back that Somnath works in the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) at Kolkata. Then he was working. I thought about going to the RBI building, it’s huge, and searching every nook and corner. But is it humanly possible? Asking from the chaprasi to the Governor, where is Somnath? Time passed by so badly and there has never been a moment when I did not remember him.

He now shares his time between Kolkata and Pune. Still a very soft-spoken person as he was. His appearance hasn’t changed one bit.

First when we connected over WhatsApp on 14^th February, Partha told me my nickname. I was really taken aback. What a memory he has. We met on 18^th February at Mud Café. It is located on Rashbehari Avenue. It is the house of legendary Rabindra Sangeet singer Debabrata Biswas.

We mean the three of us. Somnath included. Lovely place. Partha’s choice. He really has a good taste of the finer things in life. Gave me a lot of gyan on cyber security on Facebook where I am taking my baby steps. As an afterthought the main reason for the long disconnects is not being on Facebook so long.

Mission Jayanta

Both Partha and Somnath came to my place last Sunday i.e. on 10^th March. Our mission was to trace Jayanta Sengupta, another batch mate. Before the mission, the background checks. Jayanta was a very smart boy in school. He used to drive a Yezdi bike. Partha remembered in those days his was the only bike in the CBS car park. Very stylish. Many including me were mesmerised. One day he decided to drop me home. No problem. I still live at the same place on C I T Road, hardly a kilometer from CBS. After a furlong he showed just how smart he was with a bike. He drove the bike to the right and then to the left and again to the right. I had my heart in my throat. I begged forgiveness and ultimately he stopped. There are some memories which never leave you.   

There was no clue about him except that Partha knew his house. I too remembered that he stayed near Chhaya Cinema. Being a movie buff, movie theatres were the landmarks for me then. Saturdays were the days I used to go. If it was a Western movie, it had to be Tiger. The 12-30 p.m. show. For Hindi movies there were a lot more. The road connecting to Chhaya Cinema from CBS was smooth. A single bus ride.

Like Felu Da, Partha led us on this mission which I call Mission Jayanta. We reached a couple of furlongs behind Maniktala mode on Acharya Prafulla Chandra Road, more popular as Circular Road. After getting down from Partha’s car he told his driver to park ahead on the left. Partha’s landmark was Jayanta’s house which has a gadi baranda.  

We searched every nook and corner of the surroundings, but couldn't find a gadi baranda or anyone who knows him. We ultimately came to know from a shopkeeper that he is known by his nickname. There’s no Jayanta around. After a lot of effort and thanks to Partha’s patience we ultimately found the house. Climbing the long and winding staircases and reaching each floor was an experience we never had. First floor. No Jayanta. Second floor. Same result. We lost all hope. Last came the third floor. Somnath feebly rang the bell. No response. I told him to knock firmly a number of times. The door opens and at last I see a face staring down. I was at the landing. Partha is much lower. Somnath seemed a bit nervous. But I recognised the face. It’s him. I asked Jayanta? And yes came the answer.  

Jayanta looks the same as he was. It felt really good to meet him and onboard him in our reunion. We had a great adda session. It feels like time never stops sometimes.

Then we went to China Town, a place very close to Partha’s earlier residence, the NABARD quarters. Beijing was our destination. Beautiful place. Good food. A long session of adda and after dropping me home they left.

I have remained connected with Sandip throughout right from the days he used to live in a beautiful and spacious flat at Jodhpur Park. We had endless hours of adda. He has been interested in rock from our school days. He was a very good student. After coming back to Kolkata after 20 years in 2014 and even in between during my homecoming we met at his office. It was closer to my house.

I have a family connection with Supratik Biswas. Both our dads were colleagues. In fact, my father started working first as a Professor at Krishnanagar Government College in 1952 where Supratik’s father worked. He was a senior. After coming to Kolkata in 1968 from Darjeeling my father worked at Presidency College. They connected once again. Then Supratik’s father was a very senior Professor at Sanskrit College bang opposite Presidency College.

Next in the same way I have been associated with Supratik as a colleague. I worked for United India Insurance Co. Ltd. for 10 years till 1994 where Supratik also worked though we were not at the same place. Sarajit Chaudhury, another batch mate also worked at the same company and we used to meet often. I still remember in 1985 we had gone to Jaipur to conduct an internal audit of one Divisional Office and all the Branches. Surprise, surprise. I banged head on with Sarajit at the hotel we were staying at. How come you are here was all I could ask him. We enjoyed our stay a lot.

Then there is Tathagata Chakraborty, more popular as TC. A staunch Mohun Bagan supporter like me. Stylish. Played good football. There was something unique about his voice. You can call it his USP. You may forget him but you will never forget his voice.  

I still remember I had gone to see a match at the Mohun Bagan ground. 60 paise was the rate of tickets. Surprise, surprise. I see TC standing ahead in the same queue. After seeing me he was stylishly indicating with both his hands near his stomach and upwards to come near him. Break the queue. Honestly speaking I don’t remember whether I obeyed his command.

I have kept in touch with Sumit Das who has now settled in Toronto, Canada.

I have reconnected with Samit Talukdar, another good friend of mine. Despite being an East Bengal supporter.  He lives very close to our firm. I would like to meet him and have a long adda session very soon.

Another friend with whom I have reconnected is Anindya De. He used to stay bang opposite our building. I was very close to him and his family during our school days. He relocated to Salt Lake later after which we lost connection for a long time.

Before concluding I would like to once again thank the untiring efforts taken by our batch mates to make the Mission Impossible happen. It is due to them that we are going to meet each other a thing we never dared to dream.   

To be continued

 

A Daddy's Boy

I would like to share with you why I studied in an English medium school. To know this you have to turn the clock back to the time when my father was a Professor at Hooghly Mohsin College. We lived in Chinsurah. 

He studied in a village called Nimtita in Murshidabad district. The place was made famous by the legendary Satyajit Ray when he shot his fourth film Jalsaghar there at Nimtita Rajbadi. 

My father stood tenth in the Matriculation examination and stood first in the district. Naturally with this background he wanted to admit me to Chinsurah Duff School. The best Bengali medium school there.

But surprise surprise. My mother didn't want this to happen. She hailed from Nagpur where she had studied at Providence Girls' High School a renowned English medium school. 

My mother had said her son will study in an English medium school. There was a truce. And peace and happiness came back. 

I was admitted to Auxilium Convent School at Bandel. Founded by the Salesian Sisters in 1951. Then it was the only English medium school in that area. I used to travel there by the school bus. Now it is a girls' school. But then boys studied in the primary section till Classes-4. 

There's another background to my admission at Auxilium Convent School. Earlier to my admission we used to live in the older part of Chinsurah closer to the Hooghly river. One of my daily rituals was to wake up and see from our first floor flat students of Auxilium Convent coming from Naihati which is bang on the opposite side of the river and going to school. In case I was sleeping then I used to be waken up so that I don't miss them. 

With this at the back of my mind we shifted to a better house and started living on the ground floor. On the first floor lived a family where the son studied at Auxilium Convent in a higher class. We became very good friends though he used to beat me a lot. 

I have fond memories of my first school. But after a couple of years my father was transferred to Darjeeling and I got admitted to Mount Hermon School. The boy on the first floor also took admission there and stayed at the hostel and completed his schooling from there. 

 I will leave that for another day. 

Life's Lessons - What We Have Learnt from Mr. Hicks

I am what I am is for this institution (read - Calcutta Boys' School/ CBS). These were my first words when I met the Principal of CBS sometime back. 

I am what I am is for Mr. Clifford Hicks. The respected Principal of CBS, when I studied there, who has made CBS what it is. 

There are a lot of memories of CBS during my formative years. I want to share one such today. 

I was studying in Class-10 then if my memory serves me right. The teacher who was supposed to conduct the class had not come till then. Our classroom was just above the office overlooking the ground. The students sitting close to the window found out that a few girls had come to the office and were waiting outside just beneath the window. To have a good view they went to the window to see telling the others to watch the exit lest they get discovered. But boys will always be boys. Gradually one by one many went to the window. The place became so overcrowded after some time, with some toppling over others, there wasn't anyone left to keep an eye on the exit. 

After the show was over and enjoying every moment of it when we started coming back to our seats we found to our horror that the teacher has come to class. And was sitting in his chair. 

The matter was reported by him to Mr. Hicks. The period was just before lunch. Mr. Hicks decided to teach us a lesson to remember for a lifetime. 

He asked all of us to kneel down in front of the classrooms of middle school, that is the junior section (read - Classes-5 to 8) during the entire lunch time for all to see. There is a big room the boundaries of which comprised those classrooms. 

Even after almost close to fifty years I haven't forgotten the lesson I learnt that day. I would like to thank Mr. Hicks for doing what he did that day. A thing I still remember.