STORYMIRROR

Rathin Bhattacharjee

Children Stories Romance Classics

2  

Rathin Bhattacharjee

Children Stories Romance Classics

Life : The Leveler

Life : The Leveler

9 mins
43

Life, the Leveler : 


(1) : Grandpa Jash


"Punarayegamanayo cha." Playing kitkit with my bestie, Sujata, in the courtyard, I looked up to see my grandfather, reclined majestically on the easy chair, bidding adieu to his departing son and daughter-in-law. Grandpa looked gorgeous in his silky gown, tied in a bow with the silken thread around his waist. Grandfather was reciting those incomprehensible lines in Sanskrit as Baro Jyatha (eldest uncle) was leaving his ancestral home in Central Calcutta for his Australian home with Jyathima, his foreign wife, close at heels. 


Jyathima looked serene in a red sari, topped by that red Vermilion mark on her forehead. While the cab was waiting at the doorstep, what really caught my attention was how the red vermilion mark in the middle of Jyathima's forehead, was shining like the scorching sun overhead. Grandfather was now translating the mantra into English for Jyathima's benefit. The words ``Come back again" caught my ears. I had heard from my Baba that there could never be anyone as brilliant, as generous and as unfortunate as my grandfather. 


I had heard it from my father, the youngest son of grandfather, that his father had just completed his Master's in English from The University of Chattogram in modern Bangladesh when they all had to shift to West Bengal due to the communal riots of the 1940s. Grandfather, the third of the four sons of my great grandfather, was a brilliant student all along. He missed getting First Class in the Master's just by a few marks. This happened when the British Raj had started waning in the Indian subcontinent. 

Grandfather had little trouble in landing up with a job on his arrival in Calcutta. He was appointed as a Lecturer of a prominent college in the city. Within a very short span of time, grandfather rose to be the youngest Principal of that college. His charismatic personality along with his outstanding academic career and good looks endeared him to his colleagues and students alike within no time. 


Over six feet tall, grandfather towered over the other Bengalis of his time. In fact, with his broad physique and that arrogant face, he struck me as the most handsome man I had seen in my life. I had also heard it from my father that once during the riots, the Muslims took him for the leader of the Hindus and stabbed him on his thigh. Grandfather could have been killed that day had it not been for an act of desperado from his side.


He was trying to rescue a friend from the blood-thirsty assailants when someone threw that dagger from afar. The dagger missed hitting him on the chest by a whisker and struck him on the thigh instead. Grandfather, in great pain and distress, plucked the dagger out and pushed in a frenzy his friend inside a building with the door still open. He then blocked the entrance of the building with the dagger still held in his hand while blood was oozing out of the cut.

The sight of him standing like that, with little care or concern for his own safety somehow frightened his enemies away. The dagger could still be seen displayed in a showcase in grandma's room. 


But the most unfortunate thing occurred to him when he was dislodged from the post of Principal on a false allegation. Though grandfather took the matter to a court and fought for a decade against the government for his honor and prestige, he could not really be the same man any more. 

Through a series of misfortunes - he was inflicted with gangrene in the left foot first, had a press maker installed in his chest through a major surgery next. But more than the ailments what really shattered him was the antagonism and envy of his own siblings.


After twelve long years, he was honorably acquitted of the false allegation. The government paid him the money he owed to them for the injustice done to him. But by then, he was mostly confined to the easy chair and the prospect of a promising life was nipped in the bud. 


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(2) : Sibling Rivalry at its Worst 


"Didn't you ask for the story of Jash last time, Didi bhai? Let me tell you the story then," Grandpa said as he, lying beside me in bed, softly patted my head. 


"Who was this Jash, Dadu (grandpa)? Was he as mean a man as the Satan in your last story?" I asked, turning sideways to make room for him. 


"We'll find that out," Grandpa replied, smiling.


"Gangadas, a great Sanskrit scholar, was lying in his deathbed. Having realized that his end was at hand, he sent for all four of his sons. 


"I'm done with all my earthly duties and responsibilities. When your families get extended in due course of time, you all may have a room each constructed on the second floor. I made provisions for that,' he told the sons gathered around his bed in a feeble voice, with his chest heaving. 


'This is no time to be talking about that, Baba. We'll discuss the matter at a more appropriate time.' Jash, the third of the four sons of the octogenarian scholar, cried out.


But the great man, having served the purpose of his life, was soon called back to his heavenly abode.


Time fled by. Seventeen years after the demise of their father, one shrieking dawn woke the whole household up and sent everyone scurrying up to the room in the eastern corner on the second floor. Srish, the eldest son, who lived there with his wife, had breathed his last. Amidst the heart-wrenching wailings of his widow, the last of his siblings who really loved Jash for who he was, was also gone. 


Two years after the death of their elder brother, Harish, the second son of late Gangadas, informed his brothers that now his eldest son, Girish was going to get married, he was thinking of letting him stay with his bride on the second floor provided his surviving brothers didn't object. In other words, he wanted a room to be constructed on the second floor. 


Within a matter of six months, another room was standing majestically atop the second floor, adjacent to late Srish's, where his only son, Mahesh, had shifted by then. 


The youngest of the four sons of Gangadas, Ashish, had in the meanwhile moved up with his wife, Aritra to the third, spacious room built in the extreme southern corner of the second floor. Had Jash constructed a room in the area of what still remained of the enclosed second floor right then, all four of the late scholar's sons would have had a room each on the second floor as he desired." 


Grandpa paused here before asking me to hand him the glass of water from the stool on my left. 


"When Krish, the second son of Jash, expressed his desire to marry a childhood sweetheart, Jash thought it was time to approach his brothers regarding his share of the room to be constructed on the second floor. He convened a meeting to discuss the issue with his brothers and nephews. 


Harish was not on speaking terms with Jash any more. So, he sent his eldest son, Girish to represent him at the meeting regarding the construction of the fourth room on the second floor. Other than Girish, Ashish and Mahesh were also present in his bedroom. 


It is still a matter of great speculation even today why Ashish, Gangadas's youngest son and Girish teamed up to thwart any efforts on the part of Jash to have a room on the second floor. Some say it was mainly due to Jash's large family - Jash had five sons and two daughters, that his brothers and nephews felt threatened. Some say the enclosed area between the rooms on the second floor was not wide enough. The construction of another room would have left little space for free movements. While there were others who felt that the brothers and nephews of Jash had always been secretly jealous of his power and popularity.


Whatever the reason might have been, Mahesh, the only son of late Srish, who was also present in the meeting, chipped in :


'Okay. We'll let you have your room provided YOU, Uncle, go out of the house.'


"What guts! What a masterstroke of conspiracy by the youth to be talking like that to his uncle while Ashish, the youngest son of late Gangadas, sat there with the most impassive look on his face!" Grandpa, visibly upset, couldn't help exclaiming. He took another sip from the glass, wiped the tiny droplet of water off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing :


"When Jash came down from the meeting and shared the news with his family, Krish was heard remarking:


'Don't you worry, Baba. We won't have the room then. No point fighting your own people. I can always find someplace to stay in with my family. But I'd give my right arm to see what happens to these ungrateful relatives of yours who want you OUT of the house! '


"Though Jash was heartbroken with the outcome of the meeting, his reluctance to fight his own brothers and nephews must have shattered his self-esteem, leaving him a battered and broken man for the rest of his life. 


"What happened to his brothers or that nephew who wanted him out of their ancestral home?" I couldn't help asking.


"Harish, the second son of the scholar, who was diagnosed with malignant malaria, had to be admitted in a nearby nursing home. He developed further complications there and died five days later due to multiple-organ failure.


You see, Trisha," Grandpa said to me,"One of the conspirators who wanted Jash out, died out of the ancestral home. 


"His youngest brother, Ashish...." grandfather had hardly mentioned the name of the youngest brother, when I cut him short by asking him to tell me more about that brother. 


I liked what he had to say about his eldest brother, Srish. Though Harish didn't seem as nice a man as I expected the siblings of my grandfather to be, something was telling me that Ashish would be different from the others. 


Just then my mother entered the room and asked me not to disturb grandpa any more. Besides, as I had school the next day, I had to go to sleep early. 


"Go, Didibhai, " Grandfather said, withdrawing his hand from my head. "We'll finish this story tomorrow."


"Promise you will tell me more about Jash and his younger brother, Ashish?" I entreated him as I sat up on his bed. 


Grandfather nodded his head as I left his room with mother after she had switched off the light of the room at his request. 

(to be concluded by tomorrow... )


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