However, a few months later, he, whose ship was still anchored in Calcutta, received a letter from Mrs Duggen saying that she was planning to leave for Australia and would be selling her cottage; should the captain be interested, he could buy it off her. She gave him the address of the hotel where she was staying. So it came to pass that a deal was struck and Captain Mendonca became the new owner of Mrs Duggen’s house. Mrs Duggen went off to Australia and married a second time, but this marriage, like the first, ended in the death of her second husband as well. She returned to McCluskieganj and, at Captain Mendonca’s insistence, spent her last years in what was her own home earlier. Captain Mendonca used to visit the place occasionally. However, a few years before retirement, his life was totally devastated by the death of his wife. His son Glad, who was in the navy, was now married and lived in his family house in Goa. Captain Mendonca, despite his son and daughter-in-law’s desire that he should live with them, decided otherwise. He wrote off the property in Goa in favour of his son, and told him that he had always valued his independence. As a result, he ultimately went and settled in McCluskieganj.
The two families whom Captain Mendonca was particularly close to were Mrs Thripthorpe’s and Mr Holland’s. He looked after Mrs Thripthorpe whenever she fell sick, which was often enough. Taking her to Ranchi for treatment, paying for her medical expenses, all these he did very lovingly. Mrs Thripthorpe was extremely fond of him and had expressed a desire before both her daughter Judy and him that she would die in peace if the two got married.
Captain Mendonca was not at all averse to the idea, but Judy had her reservations. Her concern was chiefly her growing sons. Yet, slowly with time, Judy’s stand softened, particularly after the death of her mother, and so when the last time Clement Mendonca brought up the subject again, she relented and the decision was clinched over a cup of tea.
As a result of this alliance, McCluskieganj was getting ready with confetti and rice for Captain Mendonca and Judy’s holy matrimony. After much deliberation, Mr Mendez laughed and thought, what shall I give these oldies as a present? A pair of cauliflowers maybe?, he smirked. Mr Gibson has decided to ask Parvati to deck Munni with artistic designs so that the couple could mount the she-elephant and be taken to the church. Mr Miller had got a silver jewellery set for Judy and a beautiful tie for Clement Mendonca. Dennis had bought a gold necklace for Judy and a suit-piece for the groom. Mrs Tomalin got a pair of beautiful gold-dial watches for the two and said, ‘If only Mrs Thripthorpe had been alive today—how happy we would have been.’
35
In One’s Own Country, a Celebration
At the church of McCluskieganj, Judy appeared thoughtful. She felt that she had perhaps ill-timed her wedding. Dennis was not only enacting the role of her elder brother, but had also arranged for a gala dinner for the guests at Highland Guest House. Judy thought, ‘Neither Liza nor Robin would be there for the occasion.’ Dennis cheered her up saying, ‘Don’t worry, Judy, your wedding will bring back the smile on
McCluskieganj.’
Sure enough, the very next week, good things started to happen. Early one morning, Robin’s lawyer Mr Gupta sent his car along with his junior from Ranchi to McCluskieganj. ‘We have procured Robin’s release order, please reach Ranchi immediately by this very car,’ was the message that the junior brought from Mr Gupta to Dennis.
Dennis was mad with joy. How he wished Liza were here too. The news spread rapidly through the village. So many turned up to accompany him. But Dennis reasoned with them. ‘What is the point in exhausting yourselves?’ As a result, only Neelmani accompanied him. Seeing Neelmani’s anxiety, as well as happiness, written large on her face, Dennis could not refuse her. On the way, she suggested they give Saamu Munda the good news too. And so they did. Saamu Munda was ecstatic to hear of Robin’s release. The scene at the Ranchi jail too was an unusual one. All the prisoners had come to the gate to see Robin off. In the few months that Robin had spent there, he had come very close to the inmates. The parting was a very emotional one.
Before leaving, the jail superintendent had asked Robin, ‘You had wanted to visit Birsa Munda’s cell in Ward No. 5. Do you still wish to see it?’ Robin nodded, and so he was led to that cell. Robin was filled with emotion; he touched the bars of the cell with reverence and thought that Birsa Munda’s vision was still to be realized, both his as well as Bahadur Oraon’s.
Outside the prison, Dennis warmly embraced his son. Saamu Chacha too came forth and held his hand saying, ‘Suffering too is a gift from God.’ Neelmani was smiling at Robin and Dennis drew Robin’s attention to Mr Gupta, his lawyer. He said, ‘It is Mr Gupta who has worked night and day to secure your release.’ Robin instantly thanked him. Then they visited Firaya Lal Chowk on the way to make a call to Liza in Hong Kong. Dennis gave her the good news and said that he would join her in a week’s time to help her wind up and return to McCluskieganj for good.
As they drove back, Dennis remembered some lines from an Anglo-Indian novelist: ‘If England is the land of our fathers, India is the land of our mothers. If to us, England is a hallowed memory, India is a living reality…’ And we have once again returned to that land, which is our mother, thought Dennis. On the way, Robin dropped by at Bonner Bhawan to see Miss Bonner, but she was inert and there was no knowing whether she recognized Robin or not. But McCluskieganj … It was once again bedecked like she was on foundation day. Its residents had quickly got together and, within those hours that Dennis took to go and fetch Robin from Ranchi, they had organized a welcome party for their hero.
Everywhere, on trees and posts, they had stuck handwritten posters of welcome. The Highland Guest House was the venue for the celebrations. Again the fairy lights, again the same standby generator, all the food and fun arrangements, because it was yesterday once more. The children were singing and shouting and, when Robin entered, he was received with a standing ovation of thunderous clapping. Both Dennis and Robin spoke briefly to the people who had gathered, not so much because they didn’t have words, but because they were choking with emotion. Mr Mendez, who did most of the talking, concluded with the remark, which made people’s eyes go moist: ‘Love gives a lot of strength and an impossible courage.’
36
Ma Ganga
Dennis and Liza returned to McCluskieganj for good. Winding up was not exactly an easy job; but for Robin, Liza would never have returned. Yet, Hong Kong would remain a golden chapter in their lives.
In the meantime, Dennis and Mr Mendez started their hunt for a new property. They visited Ranchi with the hope that Mr Agarwal, who had bought Mr Brian McGowan’s old house, seeing Dennis’s changed circumstance, could be brought around to sell the house back to him. But Agarwal was a hard-core businessman, who knew the value of investment more than anything else. He knew that McCluskieganj would soon be declared a tourist spot. In the wake of the formation of a new state, property prices would rise. He would wait to cash on it then. Both Mr Miller and Mrs Alice Tomalin asked Dennis and Liza to stay with them. But Liza was keen on having her own place, and she succeeded in clinching a deal with Mrs King, whose cute little cottage charmed her very much. Robin, however, decided to retain his room in Queen’s Cottage; he and his creative muse were well ensconced there. The village was happy with the McGowans’ decision to remain in McCluskieganj. With Dennis’s and Liza’s return to
McCluskieganj a new chapter opened up in the sale and purchase of property. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, several other residents started selling their houses. The first to do so were Amit and Ilona. Actually they had been toying with the idea of selling Shanti Niketan for quite a while. The premises of their house were too large to manage by themselves. Servants and labourers were hard to come by as most of them were going off to Delhi and Punjab. Moreover, their health was not too good. The sale would provide them with a financial cushion for their old age. Moreover, their daughter Rebecca too was of marriageable age and funds would be required. So Amit Ghosh sold his large house and moved i
nto a smaller, compact and more manageable place.
Along with the sale of Shanti Niketan, Mr Gibson too finalized the sale of his Peacock Guest House to a retired chief engineer from Patna, Mr Pandey. This gentleman had amassed a lot of black money and speculated on profitable investments. Mr Gibson’s well-wishers in McCluskieganj were against the sale and had till the end warned him against it, calling the step nothing short of suicidal. All of them knew Mr Gibson and could anticipate exactly how long the proceeds from the sale would last in his pocket. It was also rumoured that there was a chance of Mr Gibson leaving for Australia. This time too when June Gibson had visited McCluskieganj, she had many scores to settle with her husband. Before leaving, she not only turned out her brother Mubarak with his family from the Peacock Guest House, but she also saw to it that Parvati and her son were sent packing. Mr Gibson had no option but to accept his wife’s dictat.
The departure of Mubarak, Parvati and Babu, left the old man extremely morose. However, along with the registration of the property, Mr Gibson had another deed prepared for Mr Pandey, the new owner. The deed said that he, Mr Gibson, should be allowed to retain one room in Peacock Guest House as long as he lived.
Mr Gibson was a guileless man and, as a result, his naivety proved disastrous. Mr Pandey, the wily shark, while leaving in his car, gave orders to his caretaker to let Mr Gibson have the servant’s quarters, which was really a tiny box of a room. Mr Gibson was aghast at his effrontery. There was no toilet even attached to that room. On insistence, Pandey ordered his man to put a commode and a tap in the same room. This was installed in such a way that Mr Gibson had to literally jump across it in order to get into his bed.
No one was allowed entry into the compound of Peacock Guest House which had an ancient peepul tree that the village folk visited every Saturday to worship. Moreover, Mr Pandey objected loudly to the presence of Munni and the enormous quantity of her faeces and urine. These developments had depressed Mr Gibson further, and his only solace was the constant company of cherry brandy and Aristocrat whisky. Still, despite his stupor, Mr Gibson actively considered how to make his life more lively and meaningful.
Most people thought that Mr Gibson had sold Peacock Guest House in the bitter aftermath of his quarrel with his wife, but the probable reality lay elsewhere. Mr Gibson had lately heard that the young prince of Ratu estate was going to build an impressive Fun Castle on his massive grounds, which would be both entertaining for people and lucrative for himself. He would have toy trains, giant wheels, speed cars, boats, animals and what not. Mr Gibson had, by chance, come across an advertisement in The Statesman, which spoke of the sale of a diesel-operated boat. Its size was quite large, about 30feet long and 10 feet wide and could seat some fifty people. The name of the boat was Ma Ganga, and it belonged to one R.N. Guha in Raidighi, West Bengal, and lay anchored for the past few years. Earlier it used to be plied by the customs department for anti-smuggling patrolling. Mr Gibson was overjoyed by this information. Not even Parvati knew of the scheme forming in Mr Gibson’s mind. He decided that the boat would be the ideal pastime for him. He would use it in the Fun Castle. After talking it over with the young prince of Ratu estate, Mr Gibson left for Raidighi and, after restoring the boat to a mint condition, he brought it to Fun Castle. Munni also found her
place there.
But man proposes and God disposes. One must never move too far away from reality. The waterbody on which the boat was to be launched was not large enough. The boat could not even manoeuvre a turn, and so it remained anchored like a jetty.
After this debacle, Mr Gibson became quite demented. Like the ancient mariner, he too used to catch whomever he could to forcibly relate to them the story of Ma Ganga, which so to say ultimately procured him his passage to the Ganga.
37
Robin and His Innovations
It was now April. The wheat had been harvested and, though the heat was turning cruel, yet along with it, a new phase had begun in the agricultural life of McCluskieganj . All boundaries had been dismantled after assiduously convincing people about its advantages. This was the result of Robin and Neelmani’s brainstorming sessions with the people in the villages around. They introduced the concept of collective farming. Almost fifty acres of arable land was brought under the scheme. Sadhu Oraon of Kwar Patar village could not envisage that such a thing was possible. Others thought that in a place where people fought over a few inches of land, such a scheme would not last too long. It was too good to be true, this concept of a land without boundaries. But the question that was relevant and that needed an answer was: How would the grain be divided?
It took Robin and Neelmani much effort to explain to the villagers that the division of grain would be calculated on the basis of average. The share of one’s produce would be proportional to the area of one’s land. Also, as much as the land, so much would be the investment both in terms of expense as well as labour. That seemed convincing enough. To this system, Robin introduced the concept of power from a windmill to draw groundwater.
Other schemes of development included dairy farming, fisheries, and above all at Kitty’s behest, an apiary for every house. She threw herself heart and soul, along with her son Babloo and Majeed’s son Gibrail, into bee-keeping. Robin personally went to Khalari to meet the manager of the Handloom Centre. The manager assured him that he would make available the boxes for bee-keeping, along with a queen bee for each box to every house in the village at subsidized rates. Now, as a result, neither the bees nor the people in McCluskieganj had any time to rest. They were on their toes all day.
Robin and Neelmani were planning and working on war footing to make McCluskieganj the hub of the ‘Goddess of Agriculture’. In fact, Robin invited experts in agricultural research from Ranchi and Patna and made them conduct workshops on the subject. Although agriculture had undergone a total revolution elsewhere, the methods of farming in McCluskieganj were still those from the Stone Age. The new stress was on organic farming, because in the long run the benefits of this would be manifold. Earthworms were nurtured and reared for vermicomposting.
And then came May. Once more the laburnums and gulmohars covered the village with their colours. Robin and Neelmani decided that McCluskieganj needed to be better lit. As a result, they started exploring avenues for solar lighting. Some solar lighting had been introduced as part of the foundation day scheme by Major William, but much more was required. Meanwhile Duti Bhagat, who dared not visit the village because of the draconian law set by Commander Hembrom of the MCC against him, had been meeting Canteen Majeed ever so often in Ranchi. He would tell him that he was still hot on the trail of Robin McGowan.
38
Enter Mr Rozario
Even as McCluskieganj was on the trajectory of success, the sad news of MLA Mr Angus Brown’s passing away left all its residents heartbroken. The local newspapers published detailed obituaries. Both the chief minister and the governor of Bihar paid glowing tributes to him. Reporter Basant of Jharkhand News gathered the views of the people of McCluskieganj on the event. The death of Mr Brown spelled the end of an era for the Anglo-Indian community of Bihar in general and McCluskieganj in particular. He was like a messiah of the people. If there were tube wells and roads in
McCluskieganj, they had all been gifted by Mr Brown. He was a true leader who required nothing for himself; he lived for the welfare of others. A great soul had indeed departed and many wept for him.
Robin and Neelmani arranged a condolence meeting at the Highland Guest House. It was attended by young and old alike, irrespective of caste and creed. Lt. General Maya Das, D.C. Hasan, Mukherji-da and so many others. It was touching to see the village that shared with and stood by each other, both in joy and in suffering. All the residents praised Mr Brown’s sense of fairness. If Mr Cameron got the road in front of the Highland Guest House repaired through Mr Brown’s funds, Bhutba Ganjhu remembered how he had wept before him because he lacked drinking water. Sure enough within seven days, Mr Brown had a tub
e well installed in front of his house. That is why after the 1995 election, when Mr Brown was nominated to the assembly, the chief minister had aptly said, ‘Right or wrong, Brown Baba strong!’
Yet, time never stops, and the people of McCluskieganj were already discussing who the successor of Mr Brown would be. ‘Who will have the trump card and win thereby?’ Mr Gibson had the effrontery to suggest that he would meet the chief minister with his curriculum vitae. To this, Tuinyan Ganjhu said, ‘Yes, you will go to Patna on your Ma Ganga’. To this, Khushia Pahan added, ‘Arre, Tuinyan, Mr Gibson’s words are like a horse’s fart. Just leave him to his ideas. Everyone knows that Mr Brown had chosen his successor in his lifetime. In his will, he had mentioned Mr Rozario as his successor.’ To this, Mr Mendez laughed outright at Khushia. ‘There is no will in the matter of politics. But the news is that the Anglo-Indian Association has recommended the name of Mr Rozario to Chief Minister Lalu Prasad.’
Many were the opinions expressed on the choice of Mr Rozario. Pandit Ramagya Pathak, for one, was definitely very supportive of Mr Rozario. ‘After all, the way Mr Rozario has changed the life of the Anglo-Indian community with the opening of Don Bosco School, along with its effort to house the hostellers in the homes of the local families, is truly remarkable.’ But the astrologer Mukherji-da of Guhabadi had something else to say. He had observed that the position of the stars on 3 August 1995 was not very auspicious for Mr Rozario. Which meant that his tenure would certainly not be as long as Mr Brown’s. But Mr Mendez refuted the last prediction saying, ‘The configuration that has given Mr Rozario the honour is not up to us Mukherji-da. There are powers beyond us that control such factors. We cannot say who will stay and who will go.’
McCluskieganj Page 23
