Rebirth

- Biswajyoti Bagchi -

                      
(A true story)

But for being saved by a stranger some forty years back, I would not be alive today to tell this story. Hence, the name of this story.

I was then in my first job, in the Agriculture Department of the Government of West Bengal. It was in the sultry summer of 1971. I was on my way from the block development office at Nabadwip to the one at Kalna in Hooghly District. Reaching Kalna late in the evening, I started looking for an inexpensive hotel for the night’s stay. I found an eatery near the bus stand, and went up to it. Approaching a typical Bengali man behind the cash counter, who wore nothing but only a dhoti on his bare body, I asked “Dada, could you please direct me to some inexpensive hotel for a night’s stay?” 

The man looked inquisitively at me, and asked why on earth I had arrived at Kalna so late in the evening. I explained my situation. Breaking into a smile, he said, “All the nearby hotels are expensive. But, if you do not mind, you may stay here for the night. All my staffs stay here for the night. I will have no problem.”

‘Oh, what a good offer this is! Surely, it will save me at least fifty rupees!’ I thought.  So, responding to ‘Manuda’ (yes, let us call him that, for he was really a very nice manush, as we will soon see), I gushed, “Why not! That will save me some money.”
“Then please go inside, and take some rest”, advised Manuda.

Inside, I found a courtyard with a well. I took a much needed bath after my long journey. Feeling freshened up, I came out to the office room to find Manuda and three young men talking in low voices. Sensing something in the atmosphere, I just asked Manuda if I could go out for a stroll. He nodded. But, one of the young men gave me a hard stare.

After a short stroll, I found a cinema theatre, and bought a ticket for the night show. Returning hurriedly to my ‘hotel’, I told Manuda about my evening’s plan. But, he did not seem to like it. “Hmm”, he spoke thoughtfully, “So, would you like to have your dinner now, or after returning from the show?”
“After the show dada ... I am not hungry now”, I replied.
“Okay. I think I will join you for the show tonight”
“Oh, what a surprise, dada! It will be a pleasure to have you with me”, I laughed.

Later, Manuda handed over his cash box to one of his trusted staff, and the two of us left for the theatre. Manuda seemed to be a familiar patron there, as he did not buy a ticket. He took me inside, and we occupied two seats of his choice. To my surprise, I found the theatre nearly empty, and asked Manuda, “Why such a thin attendance?”
“No family comes to the theatre for the night show”, he informed me grimly.

The movie was quite enjoyable. During the interval, Manuda enquired about my family, education and other details. When the show ended, we came out along with the few spectators. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my hand. “Stop, and stay here till I come back”, said Manuda, leaving me in the charge of the gateman of the theatre.

I then noticed the three young men I had seen with Manuda at the hotel. They now stood under a street light. Manuda approached them. He talked to them at length, while like Casablanca, I waited. After some time the young men dispersed, Manuda came back, grabbed my arm and whisked me back to the hotel without uttering a single word. I could not understand what was happening.

Reaching the eatery, Manuda patted on my back and said “You are safe now!”
“Why dada?” I asked.
Manuda explained, “You see, the political atmosphere here is not good. Those young men belong to the ’Naxalite’ group. They do not spare any stranger in this area from their scrutiny. They have been enquiring about you. I have told them that you are my cousin’s son, on your way to Hooghly on an official work, carrying some official papers, and that you have dropped in to see your uncle. I finally managed to satisfy them, so they left. And, I returned, with my nephew safe in my hands!”

Shaken that this unknown Manuda had thus saved my life, I forgot about the dinner. That night I was unable to sleep, and at daybreak, I took the first bus back home.

Thus, this Manuda, whose actual name I never knew, had saved my life from the dreaded Naxalites. May he remain as Manuda for me, my only visible God, who bestowed a second life upon me!


© Biswajyoti Bagchi - Member WaaS