This is the last post of the Purulia Diaries Series - Kolkata Comes up Next!
The final stop of the night was Purni Pishi - this is a strange one - she's the daughter of my dad's favourite teacher from boarding school - Perumal-Da, and Dadabhai was vindicated for asking for 20 more roshogollas. Back in the very post I ever made, I described Baba as the Rebel without a Cause. I mentioned that he was educated in a mission school.
Well, the story behind the mission boarding school, starts from Kotshila. When Dadabhai, Thami and Baba were there, there weren't great opportunities to get a good schooling. Ramkrishna Mission School in Purulia was the premier institution of the region, and its entrance exam was particularly tough - so much that students would repeat a year so that they could enter the school. On the other hand, Baba entered a year early because he aced the test.
Boarding school was particularly tough, and more so that he was younger by a year, and sometimes 2 years. In the early days, the transition took its toll on him. One of the teachers, Perumal-da, took a special interest in him, and helped him out in more ways than one. In his final years, in his 10th grade board exam, he did so well that he placed 10th in all of West Bengal.
Every time I go back to Purulia, I end up going to Ramkrishna Mission - if in Purulia I am known as Doctor-Da's grandson, then in Ramkrishna Mission I am known as Prantik's son. Pretty frustrating to be honest!
But this time on some other day, we were going to Ramkrishna Mission with Thami to pick up a photo of Vivekananda, and I walked in the grounds with Baba. On my previous visits, I would get frustrated because the place was boring, and my dad would keep showing the same things again like - "Oh this is where I used to sleep, this is the shower, this is the playing field where I played cricket, this where I got bit by a scorpion." I would mentally note - "Come on I get it old man, lets keep moving - how many different showers are there in the world?"
But this time, I was walking with Baba, and predictably he started the same spiel - "Oh this is where I used to wash my hands..", I decided to really listen in, as this is first time I came back to Purulia after I finished grade school. I always questioned whether he really enjoyed boarding school or not, and that day I realized that he didn't really get to experience a childhood. He was forced to grow up very early - at 8 years old, is any child supposed to figure out how to properly take care of themselves? I am currently 23 years old, and I still haven't properly figured it out.
Dadabhai was also forced to grow up fast; he was orphaned by 20. He had aced his college entrance exams, and was given an opportunity to go study Medicine in Kolkata. In his first year, Madhab Chandra had passed away. 2 years later, his mother Bindu Basini passed. Dadabhai was the 2nd of 5 children, and was born in the time of high infant mortality. He miraculuously survived, and hence was given a god's name Kiriti. His older sister also survived, and was also given a gods name, Kalidasi. His 3 younger brothers, were all underage, and his sister had recently married.
He had to work part-time on top of his studies to send money back home, his sister also would come and stay and not only take care of the brothers but also her own children. His first postings after med school had to be near home in Amdiha. Not only that, he took on the mantle that Madhab Chandra had left, and prioritized education for his remaining brothers. He paid for Mej Dadabhai's college education, and after marriage both he and Thami financially supported and raised the younger brothers. He passed on that to Baba as well.
After the Begunkodar trip, I asked him why didn't you go back to Begunkodar after the death of his parents and have the help of extended family- he said that would basically resetting whatever Madhab Chandra had started, because there weren't any good schools in Begunkodar.
Turns out the cost of generational cycle breaking is pretty high! Foregoing familial ties, foregoing childhood, foregoing comfort, for the belief of a better future is a hell of a drug.
I had observed both Baba and Dadabhai, both have an intense appreciation for detail, the type of intense dedication for their work, (its not a coincidence shirts remain crisply folded in the great wooden closets even after years or the Atalanta Scooter ran well into its 30th year!), maybe that comes from the fact they both believe that there is great pride to produce the best work you can given the circumstances, or maybe perfect the small area of their lives that they have a bit of control over, given the circumstances of their lives were often outside of their control.
Philosophically, I am sure that they both agree that its the quiet things that really add up in the long run - being present in the day to day life, becoming the best they can be - and that ultimately translates to their success - for example, Dadabhai's legacy as not just a great doctor, but the doctor in Purulia.
But beyond that, both of their humilities play a role, I never heard Baba or Dadabhai beat their own drums - its always been others. They both readily give their time and generosity to others, I saw Dadabhai getting restless because he couldn't find his patient.
Baba often tells me to live in the present, and get myself out of broody head spaces because life is short. Do everything with care and precision. No wonder I fell off my bike back in December - I did mention the ghosts that surround us, maybe that wind was more a collection of ghosts pushing me. Who knows?
Did it take coming back to Purulia to realize that I was part of a larger cycle that was going on?
Like my great-grandfather, grandfather, and dad, I have always been moving from the place we were born to somewhere else.
Did it take coming back to Purulia to see that the cost of pursuing growth is more hidden than any of us realize?
Losing the familial connections and losing that ability to see each other that frequently seems to be the most expensive cost. Perhaps even more ironic that this came true physically with Shephali Thami, a relative who is now unfortunately blind. I remember she used to come over in Purulia from Kotshila and would spend a couple days.
Did it take coming back to Purulia that its best to treasure the moments that you manage to share?
Some of my best memories this time around were the simple ones - the time that Dadabhai were riding the lift in the house together, the time that both of us ate cake from the same plate, or the time I was out in the balcony with him. Same with Baba, every moment with seeing Purulia through his eyes was something special. We would go out to the city in the afternoon for some tasks, and Baba would show me around the city. We would drink scalding tea, or eat a roll, or walk around while Baba showed me things "Oh this is where you get a drivers license but all the reviewers are just sleeping, oh this is sub-basement where my useless CPA works, oh this is where my goon for hire runs a fast food stall as his side hustle on top of selling motor oil."
Purulia is not my city, just as Begunkodar was not Madhab Chandra's, Amdiha is not Dadabhai's, Kotshila is not my Dad's. But that's ok, it took a long walk in the night to figure that one out. I remember walking around the winding streets of Huchuk para, and seeing all the puppies and cows and stray dogs start to sleep on the warm asphalt road. I had always been frustrated that I never got to experience the family culture that I saw my friends that experienced. But I came to realize, that I perhaps I wasn't destined to. However, it did get me thinking, is it possible to ever not push for growth so that the sacrifices aren't as steep as they are nor decline or grow stagnant?
And one particular day in Purulia, when all hell had broken lose in the house, with multiple "talkings" being held simultaneously with Baba, Thami, and house helpers because the settled silt in the water tank got swirled down into the pipes and clogged and subsequently short circuited the water heater in the bathroom, and the same silt started messing with the washing machine, guess who was right besides Dadabhai silently staring at the washing machine?
Thats right, it was me.