Fun-tastic Fraterni-tea

Time was indeed like water. It trickled down by the drop and at times was even frozen. But when the tap of enjoyment was open, it gushed by in a blink. His train of thought was interrupted as the shower curtain flung open. He instinctively shut his eyes and willed them to open the very next moment, to be met with the gaze of the chowkidaar, his face pale. Richard put his finger to his lips and gestured “shhh.”

He had been lying in the sunk-in bathtub of the massive colonial bathroom, fully dressed in his pair of jeans, polo shirt and sneakers. He hoped that this would be a safe spot for the next few minutes. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the door creak open and someone switch on the lights. Hurriedly he stubbed his cigarette waving the smoke away. When the shower curtains opened he was relieved to see it was only the chowkidaar. The same, however, could not be said for the chowkidaar. He hastily turned back, ashen. His lips were almost blue in spite of the April heat. He began to run towards the jaali kamra when Richard jumped out of the bathtub and grabbed his hand. “Arrey Bhains ki aankh…Ruko toh.” But the chowkidaar jerked away and swaggered off as fast as he could without daring to even look back.

A colonial style sunk-in bathtub, Photo courtesy: Preet Dhillon

That Sunday evening in the early 90s, the lyrics of Summer of ’69 by Bryan Adams were escaping from every open door and window of the bungalow. The bachelors jived, twisting and twirling, dancing away to glory. They knew that they looked like idiots but they didn’t care. They were ecstatic having had a break from the monotony of pattis and pokas. Suddenly, bright headlights illuminated the walls of the jaali kamra. The tyres of the olive green Gypsy swished on the herring-bone patterned brick pathway which led to the porch of the VP bungalow of Bagrakote. They saw their bada saab disembark from the vehicle. They lowered the volume of the music and welcomed him.

The bada saab relished the company of his boys, exchanging the nitty gritty of tea making. "Hope Vivek is taking good care of all your needs along with training you?" He asked the new Assistant who had been sharing the bungalow with Vivek. "Yes Sir," replied Anirban.

"It is good to have company in the initial years. Enjoy!" added their bada saab and he drove off waving goodbye to them. They were oblivious to the exchange between Richard and the badli chowkidaar. It was a well-guarded secret that Richard too had been sharing the bungalow with Vivek and Anirban!

VP Bungalow Bagrakote, Photo courtesy: Prerna Mishra

Richard had decided to switch from Duncans to another company and until he figured out the path ahead, he was being hosted by his friends; though none of them mentioned it to the head office as per the rule. Richard was grateful for this favour and despite the circumstances, he remained jovial and set an example with his big spirit and personality, savouring every moment spent with his friends.

A fortnight passed by and the bachelors were joined by their friends Sandeep, from Leesh River TE and Capt. Lokesh, for another merry evening. They sat there for hours, engrossed in their conversations and anecdotes while enjoying the sausage roll and chocolate cake baked by the bawarchi, along with their cups of tea.

Puddles of water glistened on the pathways as the bada saab’s vehicle drove in. “Hello boys!” the Manager addressed. They offered him a cup of tea, over which they discussed the crux of the very same cup, punctuated with some pleasantries all around. The musty tang of soil hung in the humid air. When the manager left, Capt. Lokesh looked around asking, “where is Richard?”

While the friends were focused on the technicalities of plucking and brewing that the bada saab had to offer, Richard’s focus was on the contrary. He knew that he had to act fast. He needed a safe spot to hide, lest the manager found out about his unofficial stay at the bungalow. Not wanting to take a chance he ran out to the cowshed and found an empty drum. His eyes scanned the area around and he quickly calculated that the drum would be his best bet despite the smell of cow dung that overpowered every sense.

In the dark, he had no clue about how much time had passed but every minute felt like an eternity. The trickling of water from the tap reminded him of how thirsty he was. Drinks had always been full in his sparkling crystal glass before he knew he wanted more. He silently thanked Anirban who was fast learning the nuances of tea-making as well as etiquette towards his seniors.

But he could not risk coming out yet, or else all would have been in vain. There was no way for him to quench his thirst. The drum though large enough for him to crouch inside could hardly be called comfortable. Finally, he heard Vivek's voice calling, “Richard…Richard...You can come out now…”

To the surprise of his friends, the hay from the top of the drum levitated briskly and then they saw a familiar head appear. The four of them had a hearty laugh as they helped Richard out of his hiding spot.

“The night is young”, said Sandeep. “Let’s end the day with dinner at Malbazar dhaba.”

At the dhaba, they ran into a group of senior planters including Deepak Dua, the manager of Kailashpur. Richard excused himself to greet his seniors and returned to the table to convey to his friends that his days as a guest had come to an end.

“Congratulations!” his friends chorused, raising their glasses.

“When do you start?”

“Tomorrow,” replied Richard.

“Well! The night is still young!” they exclaimed, clinking their glasses.

Recent photo of (L) Richard Francis, (R) Anirban Majumdar

The good old days

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Glossary:

Chowkidaar: Night sentinel

Jaali kamra: A semi-open room enclosed with wire mesh

Arrey Bhains ki aankh: A Hindi colloquial expression

Ruko toh: Wait a moment

Pattis and pokas: Tea leaves and pests

Bada saab: Estate Manager

Badli chowkidaar: Substitute guard

Bawarchi: Chef

Dhaba: Roadside food stall/ restaurant