The Kurukh's Friend, Chapter 2

The Kurukh's Friend, Chapter 2A - Visitor's Novel

by Ratan Lal; Basu
(Kolkata, India)

Sensation of thrill coursed through Nimchand Kalyani alias Nimu as the large headline of the notice written in red ink flashed across his vision and he got closer to read the content. His wife Urmila had reminded him of the colored bangles before Nimu took the morning bus for Jalpaiguri town to pay monthly installments of his loan to the bank. So after bank job he took a rickshaw for the bangle shop at Kadamtala. The bare bodied swarthy shopkeeper grinned to welcome his old customer and spread out a heap of multi-colored glass bangles on the mat. Nimu selected twenty varieties and handed over the sample bangle for measurement and the shop keeper started selecting bangles of appropriate size from the spread out lot. It would take some time. So Nimu stepped aside and his vision fell on the interesting notice pasted on the wattle wall of the shop. He got closer and read the ad again and again. The wasteland of the Rosemary tea garden would be sold out and willing buyers were to meet Srimanta Banerjee at his office at Dinbazar between 12 noon to 4 p.m.

The ad triggered Nimu and he decided to meet the person right away and try for the land. The notice seemed to have been pasted very recently, but he should make haste before anybody else could get it. It was not too late, he thought. Nimu had learnt from his uncle, Meghraj Kalyani, a promoter and dealer of building materials at Siliguri that the high road connecting Siliguri and Jalpaiguri through the forest, only a furlong north of the tea garden, would soon be constructed and clearing of forest had already started. So the price of land close to the road would soar to the sky in no time. Nimu, however, had no interest in land speculation. He had a plan to set up a saw mill on the plot of land.

The Forest Department had already started to sell through auction blocs of trees from the nearby saal forest to the timber merchants and transport cost of logs could be reduced if they were carried to the Siliguri center after sizing in a saw mill. Meghraj had emphasized that a saw mill near the forest would be highly profitable and Nimu should try his best to buy some land close to the site. The notice elated Nimu and he thought that the marshy land could be a good site for the saw mill. There were a large number of good trees in the marshy land. Selling out the timber of these trees would cover the cost of clearing and filling the lowland. But who’s this Srimanta Banerjee and would he agree to sell the land to Nimu at affordable price? Moreover, some other buyer might have already booked it. Anyway he should at least try to explore the golden opportunity which had come his way like a gift from the heaven. So he should meet Mr. Banerjee right away.

Nimu received the packed bangles, paid the shopkeeper and hailed a rickshaw for Dinbazar. Then he returned to the shop and asked the shopkeeper if he knew the advertiser.

The shopkeeper smiled, “Oh, he’s the well known Gittuda.” He lowered his voice, “The Gitttu-mastan. You should know him. He’s the caretaker of the land.”

“Oh my god, it’s Gittuda!”

Nimu rode the rickshaw in an ebullient mood. Gittu knew him well and if the land had not already been sold, he stood a fair chance. His father, Babulal used to pay every year a sumptuous subscription to Gittu’s Kali puza at Maskalaibari and in return was protected against all the minor mastans and illegal tax collectors. Nimu was amazed to think of the high position Gittu mastan had achieved.

Gittu’s father was a poor priest who used to eke out his living by performing rituals and puzas in the households and clubs around Maskalaibari and Raninagar. He was an honest person and could somehow get his three beautiful daughters married to educated Brahmins. Gittu, the only son, was the youngest. From his very childhood, unlike his parents and sisters, he was notorious but his handsome appearance and smartness could easily befool anybody. He was fair, tall with sharp nose, luminous large eyes and wispy hair. He was more interested in body building, boxing and karate than studies and had been rusticated from school after assaulting a teacher in the exam hall. Thereafter he took to blacking cinema tickets at Rupashree hall, formed a group of hoodlums and soon became a bully to local people. He helped a political party to rig elections and in return was protected by a renowned political leader from police complications. He initiated a Kali puza near his house and it was patronized by the political leaders and every year an MLA or minister inaugurated the ceremony. Many shopkeepers of the town and the adjacent villages used to pay heavy subscriptions for the puza and a considerable portion of the collection that was left after meeting the puza expenses was shared among the goons, Gittu appropriating the lion’s share.

Soon Gittu gave up cinema ticket blacking and took to bootlegging and arranging illegal gambling (zhandi-mundi). His income increased by leaps and bounds but he became a headache to his honest parents. His lifestyle injured the feelings of the dignified honest priest who with his wife became a permanent resident of an ashram at Rishikesh after bequeathing his house to Gittu.

Gittu married an educated girl, the daughter of a respectable school teacher, and the beautiful girl who, by her love and strong personality, could soon bring Gittu under her command. Nirmala had fallen in love with Gittu at first sight and after marriage wrote to her in-laws promising to mend their mischievous son. Gittu loved her and was faithful and at her insistence he gave up drinking and drugs. She earned the acclaim of many persons for her power to mend the notorious mastan, but bad people used to say that she knew witchcraft and art of bashikaran. Gittu broke off his gang, and started a partnership hotel business with a friend at Kolkata.

A few years ago continuous labor trouble over huge amount of unpaid salaries and defalcation of provident fund money had destabilized production at Rosemary tea garden. The company had bribed the trade union leaders to help them overcome the crisis. But the latter, notwithstanding their utmost efforts, failed to resolve the problem because of the adamancy of two labor leaders Dhanesh Tirke and Budhu Ekka who had considerable command over the laborers. They refused to heed the leaders and Albert Bhagat, a Christian Kurukh lawyer took up the matter to labor courts. At the advice of the helpless political leaders the owners sought help of Gittu who readily accepted the offer and within a month dead bodies of Tirke, Ekka and Bhagat were found in the lower shoals of Tista and the political leaders were prompt in hushing up the case. The police recorded it as a boat mishap. As a reward Gittu demanded the marshy land which he knew would soon fetch a very high price and the owners readily transferred the land to Gittu’s name. Now Gittu had decided to sell this land, buy the partner’s share of the hotel with the money and get settled at Kolkata where he would be free from the hangover of his misdeeds here and this would also please his wife and parents.

The Kurukh's Friend, Chapter 2B - Visitor's Novel

by Ratan Lal Basu
(Kolkata, India)

Notwithstanding jerks and jolts of the rickshaw along the damaged road Nimu got engrossed in deep cogitation. How these worthless naughty people get high up the ladder of riches and social status! Should he follow the crooked path of Gittu or remain satisfied with moderate achievements that ethical living could ensure? But why should he follow the mischievous path that leads to disquiet of mind? The achievements vanish abruptly as they are gained. You move up fast by unfair means and fall down fast to hell. His father always remained honest and satisfied with moderate riches and this ensured him mental peace. He used to advise his sons and daughters to be righteous and religious. He narrated mythical stories of Ravana and Duryodhana and their ruin in spite of enormous prowess, and he also cited examples of present day wealthy but dishonest businessmen who had to suffer ignominy at the end.

Nimu himself had seen the miserable downfall of many nasty fear-rousing mastans. Vanta mastan was once the terror of their locality. He was at first a taxi driver. He had joined the Naxalites and after fall of the Naxalite movement he used his past political stigma to terrorize people and gradually became the leader of a notorious gang. He got the patronization of political leaders and he was confident that no body could do him anything. He even cared a fig for the district Superintendent of Police. One evening, he was informed that a member of his gang had been beaten up severely by the rival gang. He could hardly guess it was a trap and he at once took out the motor cycle and confidently raced to the spot alone and was beaten to death.

Similar was the fate of notorious Madhu, the son of a smuggler hotel owner. He was lusty and a menace for the girls of poor families. Nobody could do him anything as he used to bribe the police and help the politicians in elections. Once he broke into the house of a poor smith, tied the man with the cot and raped his young wife before his eyes. The police as usual refused to take up the FIR. The following month Madhu was returning home tipsy from the grog shop. When he came under the shadow of a large rain tree, he heard a whistle behind and as he turned around he was beheaded by a copper. After murdering the mastan the smith along with the blood-stained weapon surrendered himself to the police. Honesty is the best policy and crime leads to destruction in the long run, thought Nimu.

It was not difficult to find out Gittu’s office as the rickshaw puller knew it well and after alighting from the rickshaw Nimu in his simple attire and rustic demeanor hesitated to enter the two storied posh office.

Nimu looked un-smart in his gaits and never cared for his attires. He was the youngest son of Babulal Kalyani. Two of his sisters, one younger than him, were married to businessmen at Coochbehar and none of his three elder brothers, all of whom were brilliant students, had any interest in their family business. The eldest was a chartered accountant at Siliguri, the second a college teacher at Kolkata, and the third a lawyer practicing at Jalpaiguri court. Nimu was not good at his studies and did not like the school but he had keen business sense and liked more to work at his father’s cloth shop. In the mid-term examination in history paper he was elated to find a question on Emperor Ashoka which he had memorized the night before. However, while writing he mixed up everything and wrote stuffs like:

“Emperor Ashoka used to dig up wells by the side of the highways so that passersby fall unawares into the pits……..

“He had provided employment to many forest animals to the government hospitals……..

“He sent out Lord Buddha to Ceylon by a Boeing aircraft to propagate religion.”

The history teacher read out the ingenious script in the class inviting uproarious laughter and making Nimu the victim of ragging by the batch mates. Nimu stopped going to school. Babulal, who knew that this son was not for studies, was happy, all the more so because he needed a helping hand in his business as he had already been inflicted with hypertension and gout problems. He arranged for Nimu’s marriage to a girl from Bikanir and by the process got a good dowry that financed remodeling of the shop. Nimu soon took charge of the shop and his sincerity and performance was more than Babulal had expected.

The Kurukh's Friend, Chapter 2C - Visitor's Novel

by Ratan Lal Basu
(Kolkata, India)

At the time of marriage Urmila was a sixteen-year-old beautiful girl and her good and obedient nature soon won the hearts of Nimu and his parents. She could make good achars and pickles and exchanged them with neighboring Bengali girls for lessons in spoken Bengali. Nimu soon started saving money to expand his business but he was very cautious. He avoided speculative business much in vogue among the young businessmen and he always sought business advice from his shrewd uncle who loved him like his own son. Recently his uncle had advised him to procure some land near the timber forest and start a saw mill. So, this opportunity was a boon for him. But would Gittu with such a posh office heed to his request? The thought made him sink.

But soon he braced himself up controlling, by desperate efforts, his trembling feet and palpitating heart and stepped into the premise. The well decorated office with upholstered sofas, swinging chairs and beautiful paintings with a large photo of goddess Kali and the spiffy girls at the counter made his hear flutter again. The girls, who were busy gossiping, squinted at the crass yokel with an oddly worn dhoti, a long sleeved crumpled shirt, pox-marked silly face and parted hair soaked with amla oil emitting offensive odor. The older girl with a large chignon and chiseled face asked gruffly, “What do you want here?” “I, I…. want to meet Gittuda, I mean, Banerjee babu” he stammered making the girls double up in laughter. The parrot nosed younger girl stopped laughing and glowering at his shabby countenance asked, “What do you want from sir? He does not give alms.” Nimu dredged out a silly smile and said politely, “No, no, I’ve not come to seek help. I want to talk with him about the tea garden land.”

The older girl raised her eyebrows in amazement, “Want to buy the land, have you any idea about the price? O.K., wait on the sofa. He’s likely to come in half an hour.”

Finding him still fumbling the girl said harshly, “I’ve asked you to wait, haven’t you heard me?”

Nimu dropped on the sofa awkwardly making the girls burst into wide laughter once again. He remained seated with drooping head trying to ignore the girls and soon his mind drifted along to religious thought. Can a notorious person like Gittu earn the favor of goddess Kali simply by hanging her photos on the wall and offering her puza and showbiz devotion? Babulal used to say that ostentatious devotion springs from guilt complex and fear of punishment for unethical deeds.

“Ar-reh Nimu, you’re here?” The lively address broke Nimu’s thought and he looked up to see Gittu standing in front, spruce in green stylish trousers, bright checkered shirt, a beautiful striped necktie and haircut like a Hindi film star. Nimu stood up obediently in his candid way and said ebulliently, “How are you Gittuda? I saw your ad about sale of tea garden land.”

“O.K., O.K., come upstairs to my chamber.” He then turned toward the bewildered receptionists and snarled, “Why have you left him seated here and did not send him right to my chamber?”

The older girl mumbled, “Sir how could we know he’s V.I.P? He dropped in incognito.”

After Nimu had followed Gittu upstairs, the older girl gasped, “My god, how I could guess this simpleton to be someone important!” The other girl said, “These blood-sucking kaiyas are like this. They amass millions by deceiving poor people but move around like beggars.”

Nimu followed Gittu to his chamber through a swing door and the latter motioned him to a chair across from him. This room too had on its wall a large photo of goddess Kali along with a wall clock and photos of Ramakrishna and Rabindranath. On the costly glass cover of the table there were a small folding calendar, a pen case and a couple of cover files. Two large olive colored almirahs close to the back wall, each with life size mirror on the shutter, gave the room a gorgeous look.

Gittu loosened his necktie, pulled it over his head and hung it on a hook projecting from the wall at the far end. He lighted a foreign brand cigarette by a Chinese lighter and queried, “How is Kalyaniji?”

“Babuji has some gout problem and recently taking med for high pressure.”

“So you’re now looking after the business?”

“Not exactly. Babuji sits at the gaddi in the morning and I help him and I do all outside jobs.”

“Now tell me if you’re interested in the land.”

“That’s why I’ve come here. Has any other customer already approached you?”

“I had just pasted the ad the day before yesterday. Only two or three met me but none of them appeared to be solvent parties. So if you’re interested, we may proceed.”

“Certainly, I would buy it right away if the cost is affordable. Are you the owner or broker?”

“I’m the owner now.” Gittu smiled revealing pride, “I had helped he owners and they gave me the land as a reward.”

“What’s your offer price?”

“Only ten lac plus registration cost. Don’t think it’s too high. You must have heard about the highway and land at the place now is gold.”

“Oh, ten lac?” Nimu sighed.

“Considering future prospects it’s dam cheap. If I could wait a year I could have easily sold at thrice the price. But now I badly need the money. If you simply keep the land and resell next year you’ll get a lucrative profit.”

“Then why are you selling the land now?”

“I badly need the money right now. I’ve a partnership hotel in Kolkata. The partner has decided to sell his share at ten lac and not a single rupee less. If I don’t buy it now he would have freedom to sell it out to some outsider and that may create problem for me. Besides I like to be the sole proprietor and leave over to Kolkata with my family as early as possible. You know political change is likely in next election and this may put me to trouble here. So the earlier I leave North Bengal the better. Nimu, buy the land and don’t resell it. You could do highly profitable business in the growing township.”

Nimu hesitated a little and said politely, “Gittuda, you know me well. Can’t you fix it at eight?”

Gittu smiled, “Yes I know you’re a very simple and honest person and I’d be the happiest person if I could reduce the price. But I badly need the ten lac.”

“O.K. I’ll pay your price. Don’t give it to anybody else. Now I don’t have money or check book with me and I’ll pay the necessary advance tomorrow.”

“No advance is needed. Your word is enough. Meet me this week with your advocate brother and I’ll hand him over the preliminary papers for searching and all that. Better give my mobile number to Hemchand-da and he may talk over phone to me.”