A Vist Manoharpur

A Visit to a Village in West Bengal

(in the Mid  2000)

It is the middle of the first month in the year 1407 and I find myself at a murky road that leads to Manoharpur. I have been there before but that was quite sometime ago and under a different condition and so it looks as if the visit to the Manoharpur is like a virgin visit. 

We are visiting Namita's parents; though Namita had stayed and grown in Manoharpur; that was sometime ago and even to her things are new. We observe that there are a lot of men folk at the entrance road leading to Manoharpur in their white turned brown dothi and upper garment. I tell myself "people down here don't believe in keeping their clothes neat do they?" and look at my own upper garment with pride. If any of the guys sitting there saw me smile I am sure they would not have had a clue as to why I was smiling and four days from then I myself would not have smiled at this observation for I was to become a little wiser in that span of 4 days!

Now back to the present we looked around and at a distance and see a person lazing on his tricycle which was used to carry material rather than people for not many people visited Manoharpur. We walked to him and he was surprised to see us and knew we needed help. We need to go to Manoharpur we said; he dusted his tricycle with his upper garment and we knew who was the boss at that moment. He said 50 Takka and Namita said 25 and in the end we settled for 30 Takka. We put our bags on the vehicle and sat on the tricycle cross legged looking forward to the 4 mile journey to Manoharpur. The tricycle moved and we clinged on to what ever we could get our hands on so that the spooky mud beaten road would not take us down. It was a little later after lunch time and we could see a whole lot of people resting on their farm and there were a larger set of people who were gazing at the tricycle or was it us I am not sure. There were a few stretches where we could look gracefully at the clear sky on the top, the muddy road below and a half filled river on the left and the green farm on the right. It was really a sight and more than anything else we had no one gazing at us! Finally after about 35 minutes we were on a small path that would lead us to Manoharpur. You guessed right - no nameplate (or is it called the place plate) but Namita knew that that is where we had to get down and there we got down with aching bone and churned tummy. Was it a relief to have made to the destination or was it the sight of the Manoharpur I am not sure but we were pleased that we had finally made it. With our luggage neatly tucked in our hands we crossed the the wooden bridge which was capable of taking one person at a time wondering if by freak chance the bridge came down if Manoharpur would be cut off from the rest of the world. Namita gently reminded me that it had not happened before and we hoped that such a situation would not arise later. I never found out if Manoharpur could still merge with the outside world minus the bridge.

We cover the two furlongs quickly through the sticky and muddy snake like lane; yes it has rained in the recent past and also there doesn't seem to have been much sunlight for the muddy lane is still watery. We navigate through avoiding the still wet mud and as is the custom in any Indian house we get a warm welcome reception amongst the exchange of pranams. Immediately we are shown a room where we can place our luggage and this is the room which we will be occupying for the next week or so. We are fed some ready made food (murmura and rasagolla). Soon we feel sultry and realize that they is no electricity and it becomes apparent as the sun sets but soon the kerosene lit lanterns are to be our source of light. After a quick wash using the water that has been carried from the nearby pond it is time for dinner; no it has to wait for the wood-lit oven takes time. We retire to bed using the hand held fan and are quickly fast asleep after the tiring journey.

We wake up to the sound of "Cokaracoo" and boy it is just dawn. I later learn that my concept that a cock or a hen cockaracoos only once an d that too in the morning is proved wrong for I hear it let its beaky mouth do the saying quite often throughout the day. Probably if it carried out even in the night - I suspect it would have been converted into a curry by someone (La the cock is pretty sensible!). We brush our teeth and somewhere in the middle of the night the electricity seems to have been restored - but who needs the electricity in the day, right? wrong - unlike the previous day it is damn hot and we shift from room to room to avoid the feeling of heat that out dear Sun has kindly blessed on the land. I haven't yet had my bath but I am made to believe that it is a sure sun stroke if one dipped in the pond in that heat. I better believe that for I want to take no risk. I want to go out to the place where we took the tricycle and later and very quickly decide that it is not a very brave thing to do. It is blazing hot -- yes if I brushed against a hay of stack probably it would lit itself. It is vacation time and so I just while off the time -- it is like a complete nirvana -- no newspaper and the radio reception or the TV reception is no good in the mornings. But yes it is a wonderful feeling -- initially it was like a loss of something that I can not define but slowly over the next couple of days it was enjoyable because that meant doing nothing and lying on the bed lazying around. Namita doesn't like this and I tell her that I have nothing to do and so I better do something and what something can one do that lazying in the bed! She gives up after a few attempts and it is sleep, eat, sleep, eat cycle.

Next couple of days I become a bit brave -- from initial position when Namita fetched me water to bathe to one step down into the pond to 2 steps. No I did not get much braver than that; you guessed right I don't swim (very quickly in one of the swimming training courses I learnt that I was not buoyant!). The water is not so clean but then that is the only source of water and it is a condition that one has to use the water from the pond if one wanted to have a bath and with the sun bringing out sweat as if you had jogged a mile it was 2 times a day in the same pond. It was a great case of multiple choice question with just one answer to choose -- under those conditions you don't get choosy do you?

Evenings were relatively better; mild warm air is better than yes Sun and no air. We walk to the next village which houses a shop where we can buy a couple of things at a premium of a couple of Takka-- no one complains though. We walk along the dam that separates the village from the river and we are watched by quizzing people who are on the move. For a couple of early minutes it is a feeling of "Is something wrong with us?". I look at myself and then look at the quizzing eyes and to evade the stare I stare back into the prying eyes -- that works. Good. As we return we find a double dozen eyes staring at us - I wonder what now and I try my trick and half a dozen eyes evade the stare. I had expected Namita to take care of the other half dozen! We joke among ourselves and reach home.

Tuesdays is a time for weekly purchases. Yes the village market. I want to go even thought it looks like it is going to rain that day and even after having been warned that it is going to be a rough experience. A tricycle trekking 4 miles reaches us to the market. Boy it is big and there are a lot of people and I am not sure where all those people have come from. We pick up the list that we have been given and start our buy - yes the first thing on the list is the fish! While in the middle of the list the rain pours in. We are smart we have umbrellas; but the rain is smarter and the downpour is heavy and we get quite damp. Seeing no solace we finish our shopping in the drizzle and it is time to find a tricycle back home and boy the tricycle is in demand. We manage to reach home and after the muddy lane walk it is dirt everywhere. This is when I realized how difficult it is to maintain the color of clothes. Brown color clothes seem to be the best suited for that environment. But for some odd reason people seem to wear only white!

It is now time to return from Manoharpur. Time seems to have passed. We are seen off at the wooden bridge and we immediately find a tricycle at a distance and exclaim boy aren't we lucky; no there is a calf being transported and tied to the tricycle. We anyway stop it and manage to share the rickshaw with the calf. In the heat the calf is troubled by the extra occupants and shows its annoyance. We complete the journey and reach the exit point of the muddy lane that leads to Manoharpur. Didn't we begin here?

Note: (i) 1407 Bengali year corresponds to 2000 AD, (ii) Takka is the Indian rupee in Bengal.