The road was rough, and the pitch blackness of the night only offered visibility up to only 20 meters even with the headlights. We were on a rough road, and in many ways metaphorically delved into the deepest past that we know of Dadabhai, full of missing info and what not.
All through the day, I only saw the effect of Dadabhai's actions, and to be frank, I still felt that I was missing something - who was this man? and more than that - I still had no idea what his motivations are, and at this point, I was having some serious trouble relating to him.
I know it makes me sound selfish, I didn't want to see Dadabhai get mobbed by another group of admirers, because every time, it made him just a bit more unrealistic, and kind of seeing a movie play out in real life. I wanted to tell people - you treat him as a god, you treat him as a doctor, you treat him as a parent, but at the end of the day, I feel cheated because they all got to see him in more ways than I ever could. I know I should have felt proudness that Dadabhai was such a revered person, but honestly, I just felt nothing.
Soon enough the darkness of the night started getting pierced by tiny lights, and I had realized that we were going to arrive soon. We were going to Begunkodar, the last town of the night, and the paternal ancestral home of mine, Baba, and Dadabhai.
Begunkodar, in many ways, is where both metaphorical and physical ghosts swirl. A small town, the railway station itself is purported to be haunted by a woman's ghost. The town center was only about tennis court wide, with the central temple illuminated by purple lights, surrounded by a perimeter structure that I am not even sure exactly what it is.
Was it fate that we had to arrive at night?
We stopped at a clothing store one one side of the town center, and were greeted by folks who immediately recognized Dadabhai and Thami; even Baba had started to give "I don't know" answers when I asked him who these people and how we are related. Turns out that these folks are descendants of one of my great-great-uncles.
After some snacks of Bhabra, a deep fried gram flour speciality, Baba and I decided to stroll the town center and buy some peas, which are apparently very good from the Begunkodar's market, which takes place right next to the temple. It was very surreal to be honest, standing on the ground that my presumed ancestors walked, and at the place where everything that I know began from.
After Baba and I returned from the marketplace, we were told that we were going to another place, where they are more family members. Turns out that we just went across the town square and stopped in front of a compound that had massive gates with lions (Singha in Bengali) emblazened in front of them. Apparently, this was the Royal Gate into the Palace of Begunkodar, and we were entering the compound. The King of Begunkodar at one point lived there.
If the lion emblazoned gate is the symbol of royalty, then that was it. The inside was mostly bare, with a couple houses portioned off from what I understood at one point was the royal palace.
In there, I met another great-aunt, and great-uncle, and their family, this time it gets interesting because the sister of Boro Doctor from Kotshila, Dr. Nitai, married into the family. She, Kamala, was extremely excited that Dadabhai had visited, and despite that she could barely walk, and was a hunchback after breaking her back a few years back, she still got up out of bed to meet and talk with Dadabhai.
The ghost of the royal past still lived to some extent, I could see large pillars in one of the houses and people told me that there used to be more. But that was it, it was simply a ghost of what was.
If family members lived there, then was this where my ancestry led to? Some sort of royal bloodline? Is this even true? Then how come, we don't have any claim to any portion of this royal place or ground?
According to Thami, we are simply the Prince Harry descendants of the royal house, just a spare so many times removed, we have no more claim. Plus the entire royal place fell into dispute at some point in the late 1800s, early 1900s when the original king died without a heir, and his younger brother claimed his right at the end, and that brother's descendants currently inhabit the place. We are simply the descendants of the 2nd brother.
If this is to be held true (I have my suspicions, but contextual evidence seems to indicate otherwise), than that 2nd brother name is Madhan Mohan Singha - whose only info that has been passed down is that he used to go around the villages in the kingdom reading the Bhagavad Gita in return for alms from the villages. He had no claim, and was pretty destitute as a result.
His son, my great-grandfather Madhab Chandra Singha, Dadabhai's father, was born in Begunkodar, but he didn't stay. He had moved to Purulia when he was younger, was sponsored by a lawyer, obtained an education, clerked for the lawyer, and had saved up money to build a small house in Amdiha, a place 25 km away from the main Purulia area and had married there.
But the thing is, Madhab Chandra was a particularly interesting fellow, the house that he built, he turned it into a sort of education destination. He had several nephews, including the Dr. Nitai, and his own children live in that house, and get an education. From what I hear from Dadabhai, he wasn't particularly a kind fellow, had very strict curfews and made them wake up early to study, and often would beat them if they slacked off or did not focus. He really didn't care about the education of the women in the family, and mainly focused on the males. Dadabhai's mother Bindu Basini would take care of the numerous children who would live there. On vacation, apparently, he would take the entire family and go to the Begunkodar's royal palace.
But visiting Begunkodar, and seeing that portion of the family who had remained there in the royal compound, it seemed that the ghosts had taken them completely. Living in a crumbling house, with really no one who has stepped out of the area for over generations, it seemed there was really nothing to it. As flippant as this sounds, no one in Dadabhai's generation had any college degrees, or seemed to have really stepped out of Begunkodar.
But, really, the Begunkodar visit, really spoke to the generational cycles, something that Baba and I discussed some days afterwards. Its extremely difficult to break out of generational cycles, either staying at a single area, or not being able to progress further than the previous.
Funny enough, even though these folks are supposed to be my family, I couldn't feel any connection with them, and that ghost what could have been had floated on by. I could sense that I wasn't the only one - both Baba and I snuck out of the compound and back into the market to buy some bananas and apples. Also it seemed that Dadabhai was closer to Kamala more than anything.
Madhab Chandra had chosen to break his generational cycle, and had started to get the ball rolling on his prioritization of education. His choices directly influence me today, which is crazy to think about. It made me realize that my choice to get my Ph.D. and continue to study isn't is as innate as I thought it was. We are all surrounded by the ghosts of the decisions of our forefathers and foremothers, both living and dead.
My maternal grandfather, Dadan, had also chosen to break his generational cycle and start a new one, but thats for another blog post in the future.
But at this point in time, I had knowledge of Dadabhai in the present, who he was during his working life, from where he comes from, but still no knowledge of who he is as a person..did I really get closer in this trip, or was I still lost?
With 100 roshogollas gone, all given out during the long day, and the back of the car loaded with peas, bannas, and apples, we started on the trip back to Purulia.
We had ordered 120, but turns out Dadabhai was right about getting that extra 20 because we made one more stop that night.