There was something about the smartly dressed women around the Kumargram bada bungalow that grasped Haria’s attention. They seemed keen observers; clicking pictures of the bungalow in and around the compound with their advanced, high definition cameras which were difficult to procure in 1999. Haria thought them to be bada saab’s guests who were expected only two weeks later during the Pujas. Had there been changes to the plans which he was unaware of? The memsaab too was out of station. Nevertheless, he was duty-bound as a head-bearer to take care of the guests.
He began approaching them whilst thinking of serving them the cake and the ginger cookies baked by the cook. Through the blooming fuchsia bougainvillaea bush, he noticed that the women suddenly began to back off. Haria was astonished by this weird behaviour and narrated this to the chowkidaar. Both of them brought this strange behaviour to the notice of their bada saab. After all, they had been trained to report any suspicious incidents.
Since the past few months, the pluckers, the staff and the chowkidaars had been asked to be vigilant. The insurgency of KLF had begun to surface around the area. The fact that some of the estate managers had been abducted for ransom, had all the executives’ advert with tension. The emergency siren was checked now and again. The bada bungalow staff, too, were trained to utilize this siren if need be. The five staff houses behind the bada bungalow, where Haria lived with his family, were also under high alert.
A few days later, the manager and his factory assistant stood near the withering trough where the tea leaves were bestrewn. The strong aroma of tea lingered around. The next day would be Sunday and they needed men for the night shift. The days were waning now. The extreme heat of the summer was making way for the approaching season of the Durga Pujas. The spirits of the people were high as they had been rewarded with bonuses for their efforts all year long. Getting hands to manufacture tea was seeming an uphill task.
The manager and the factory assistant sat racking their brains for a good solution when suddenly, they heard the siren blaring loud and clear. They stared at each other for a few seconds without blinking as a dread of coldness took over them. “Now what could this be?” asked Ashim in a soft shaky voice. “Let’s pray that it’s a false alarm,” quipped Rajeshwar. They could see commotion outside the office.
They hurriedly moved towards the Manager’s vehicle. Rajeshwar took to the wheel while Ashim sat next to him, unconsciously cracking his knuckles. As the Gypsy swerved out of the office, they noticed the crowd hurrying in the direction of the bungalow. Rajeshwar stopped a man who was briskly walking in the crowd with a laathi. “Kya hua re?” he enquired. “Our bada saab has been abducted,” the man answered as he hastened his steps and caught up with the crowd. Ashim stared into space with an emotionless expression. Rajeshwar’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. With a quizzical look, both of them chorused, “what?” It took a few seconds for the information to sink in. Were they hearing it right? How could Ashim have been abducted if he was sitting here? A wave of panic washed over them. Ashim eyebrows arched upwards conjuring all possible scenarios. Composing himself, he tapped on Rajeshwar’s shoulder and told him to drive on. “Let us delve into the matter.”
“What a sudden turn of events,” Ashim thought to himself. He had set out of his bungalow a few hours back in the still autumn afternoon. The ambience was abuzz with residents walking, cycling and driving through the narrow roads of the estate with energizing earthiness. They looked forward to the great Mela to be hosted by the neighbouring Newlands TE. He even noticed Kaanchi (Haria’s wife) with a sickle in her hand heading out. He warned her not to disturb the bushes. She replied that she was going towards the forest to collect firewood. Having done his duty, Ashim drove on.
Kaanchi made her way towards Haathi Naala, next to the Bhutan border. Hearing some rustling in the drain, she sat on her haunches to check. Aghast, she noticed two men in camouflaged attire carrying guns. One of them was masked, while the other spoke on the walky-talky set. She was not sure which dialect they spoke but she could make enough sense of it to understand that the bada saab was in danger.
She tumbled sideways as a piece of cloth was shoved inside her mouth. She was shocked for a second, choking, and then she mobilized herself. Her sickle fell with a thud on the soft soil, hurting her foot. She wriggled her shoulders, lolled her head in circles and at the same time used her legs to kick him hard. She ran as fast as she could. As she reached near her house, she began shouting, “danger! Danger! Help!” and jumped the bada bungalow fence.
She barged into the kitchen of the bada bungalow, panting and sweating profusely. She lay on the floor asking for water and then said in a hushed tone, “those men will be here any moment. They are here to abduct the bada saab. DO something! Do something, quick!” The bearer and the cook were dumbfounded. It took a while for their brains to act adequately. Then their training kicked in. They ran to the room and pushed the siren button – the siren wailed loud and clear.
Within minutes, the bada bungalow compound buzzed with the indistinct murmur of the crowd. Most of the men were armed with bows and arrows. There were many tribal women as well with laathis in their hands. The bada bungalow staff too stood amongst the crowd, prepared to put up a fight if need be, to save their bada saab.
The sound of the approaching Gypsy grew louder. How well Haria’s ears could recognize this whirr and honk! He gulped on his saliva to soothe his dry throat. As the Gypsy drove into the porch, the crowd swarmed around it, waiting for their cue for action. Haria rushed to hold the door open. In a frenzy, he said “bada saab has been abducted,” only to be met with a bewildered stare from none other than his bada saab.
“Oh! Thank God you are safe!” Haria breathed a sigh of relief and announced to the gathered crowd which was jubilant. The CRPF vehicle followed by the manager of Sankos – the neighbouring garden also rolled in. The local cops from Kumargram Duar rushed to the scene. They combed the vicinity thoroughly and enquiries were made. There was suspended tension in the air.
Ashim spent the night at Rajeshwar’s bungalow, guarded by the local police. The next morning they reported the imprints of jungle boots in the Haathi Naala. They reinstated that the abduction was nullified due to each one’s alertness and actions; impressed with the unity of the residents of this garden and lauded Kaanchi's bravery.
A backup team of gunmen was soon sent from the head office. Ashim heaved a sigh of relief and thanked his luck for taking him to the factory that potentially cataclysmic day.
Glossary:
Bada saab: The estate manager
Bada Bungalow: The Manager's Bungalow
Chowkidaar: Sentinel
KLF: Kamtapuri Liberation Front
Laathi: Cane/ wooden baton
Kya hua re: What happened
Mela: Fair/ Carnival
Haathi Naala: Haathi Drain (Elephant drain)