She was rudely awakened by the loud sound of what seemed to be a damaged silencer pipe of a vehicle. It was way past midnight and she could sense the vehicle going at top speed around their bungalow. She covered her ears and looked at her husband Kuldip, only to find him rejoicing gleefully. He exclaimed, “they have arrived! Come meet my buddies from Rydak – across the river.”
“Who? At this unearthly hour?”
“Nothing unusual about it, they always enter through the botol khana,” stated Kuldip.
It had been a little over a week when on a freezing night in the first week of February 1975, Rita, the new bride had alighted at the Alipurduar platform. The two-hour long, dusty and bumpy drive to the no. 16 bungalow was soon tucked away in the folds of her memory and she began settling down to the “candle-lit” lifestyle, as the chhotta bungalows would get electricity only when the factory was running; a far contrast from the bright and vibrant Delhi life that she was accustomed to.
That particular night, she awoke to the whirr of the engine. Rita heard a voice blasting in with a thunderous “Koi hai?”
She now stood in the gol kamra, with a warm smile while her husband introduced the bachelors as his friends – Prem Singh and Rustomfram.
“Oh yes, haven’t we met at the Jainti Sankos club?” she asked.
“Of course Rita,” said Prem in his deep drawl, “and now you will see us more often.”
“That’s great,” replied Rita asking if they would like to have something. “A cup of tea perhaps?”
“Oh! We have already done justice to a brimful dekchi of milk from your fridge today,” they replied as laughter echoed in the drawing room of the Sankos bungalow.
“There’s plenty more to have,” said Rita mentally rummaging through the contents of the Electrolux kerosene fridge. “We’re good to go,” the friends replied and made themselves comfortable on the sofa. Rita’s eyes met two shy but well-behaved youngsters dressed in shorts and hunter boots. They stood up to greet her and Rustomfram introduced them as new recruits who had just been inducted at Rydak Tea Estate.
The jokes, banter and the inane but hilarious repartee carried on into the night. Then, as abruptly as they had arrived, Prem clapped his hands and said, “Okay boys, time to go.” Obediently, they stood up and made their way out. Prem and Rustomfram said their back-slapping goodbyes as the couple stood in the verandah to see them off.
In front of the bungalow, an old retired Army jeep, which was not familiar with a coat of paint for decades, was parked. The jeep had no hood and only two seats in the front. So starry nights, torrential rains and winter chills had equal charm. Prem beckoned the chowkidaar and it seemed that it was another familiar drill as the chowkidaar came with the jerry cans. Using a half-broken bottle as a funnel, the jeep was made to drink up half a can of petrol.
Rita was bewildered as a ludicrous scene unfolded before her eyes. The boys stood behind the jeep jogging on the spot. Prem started the ignition as Rustomfram sat next to him. “Prem’s khatara has its own rules for starting up,” said Rustomfram in friendly banter.
On Prem’s cue, the new recruits began shuffling and pushing the jeep forward. Soon, it coughed and gurgled and with a jerk, it came to life. As it inched forward, the two new boys ran and jumped in the back, into the comfort of cotton quilts.
Rita looked at her husband, feeling somewhat sorry at the silent discomfort of the boys. But Kuldip stated as a matter-of-fact, “inki training ho rahi hai.” (They are being trained.)
Soon, into the darkness, they sped away on the narrow desolate roads. The only sound that pierced the silence of the estates was that of the jalopy. They felt the cool breeze on their faces as well as the warmth of the spirits radiating from within them.
The jeep made its way on the dry shore amongst the boulders and crossed the fair-weather bamboo bridge spanning across the larger stream of Rydak river. They had barely covered a mile when the engine began to sputter and gradually died. It seemed that the landscape had acquired a hyper-realism lit by the moon and the twinkling stars. The fields stretched endlessly, broader and flatter than during the daylight hours. The sky looked inkier and the river glassier. The night was edging towards dawn, though still devoid of birdsongs. They heard a growl.
“The leopards are on the prowl,” warned the seniors.
The boys looked at each other, taking a moment to soak in the vastness of their surroundings a wee bit nervous and then repeated the routine of push, shove and jump as they drove on. Prem proudly beamed and stated, “in spite of many odds, this Jalopy has a ‘carry-home-instinct’ and we have lived many adventures, always managing to find our way back home.”
Recent pic of Mrs Rita Singh and her lovely words.
Glossary:
Botol khana: Pantry
Chhotta bungalow: Assistant manager's bungalow
Gol kamra: Drawing room
Dekchi: Metal pot used for heating
Chowkidaar: Night sentinel
Khatara: Jalopy (an old car in a dilapidated condition)