My Malgudi Days
We arrived in Cuttack in 1961 on my father’s transfer from Bhubaneswar, on his promotion as Superintending Engineer. It was like many of the earlier movements for us from one part of the state of Odisha to the other. My mother bore the brunt of it, setting up the house, the kitchen and creating the conveniences for all members, while we, the four siblings carved out their own space. We also looked forward to the repetition of the same story – new school, new neighbourhood, new friends, new teachers and a new culture, since every region of the state is known for its variation. Cuttack, of course, is known to be distinct, with its thousand years of history. It has witnessed an interesting fusion of culture and tradition. It has remained as the nerve centre for the region for centuries till the Post independence era, when Bhubaneswar was picked to be the new capital. The influence of Islamic as well as Christian era is amalgamated with the Odia roots that flourished from ancient times.
On our arrival as immigrants to this ancient city we entered a huge bungalow, the official residence allotted to my father. Flanked by the Circuit House on the left and the Post and Telegraph Office to the right, the Bungalow had huge open space and courtyards surrounding it. Within the compound there were two Tennis Courts and a pond. Towards right and the left there was a big field for growing vegetables. The Backyard was cemented and hosed our dogs and had open space for washing cloths and a small kitchen garden. There were five bedrooms – each of around 18 feet in width and 18 feet in length. There were couple of ante rooms besides a long covered corridor, puja room, store room and Kitchen. It was a mini palace right at the heart of Cuttack. At the entry gate there were two lofty Mango trees on both sides. The pathway from gate straight came up to the front Veranda.
Entry to the bungalow was like an entry to a new life, an introduction to the colonial legacy. It was also an introduction to the cultural diversity – the local dialect, the sahi living, the khattis et al. Across the main road was an old settlement – Machhua Bazaar. My mother, being a tough disciplinarian and being in full command of the house, ordered us to keep a distance from the sahi children. This was a short narration of the new life that I was set to sail through and I will come back to the happening thereafter sometime later.
My grandfather, amongst the great luminaries of the state came to live with us in that bungalow.Right here I will like to recount my introduction to the culture of Cuttack through my encounter with the persons who became a part of everyday life during my formative years.
The retinue of helping hands included one attendant of my grandfather, a cook attached to him, one young boy to help household work, one attendant, living in the outhouse to look after the garden and cows and one office driver. A fisherman, engaged by the office, used to visit once in a few days. Lastly there were two peons / orderly – Buddu and Ganga, who reported separately in two shifts.
Buddu was a slim tall man and comparatively fair in complexion. He continued to live in the past, the glorious days when the Britishers ruled. There were many stories that he regaled us with. “Saheb! The entire stretch of the Cantonment Bungalows was occupied by the British people. I used to serve in one of those Bungalows. The evenings were real fun and there were many late night dinner parties. It used to be full of merry making, dance and drinks. Sumptuous food was cooked. The Mem Saheb (Lady of the House) used to get Ghee in big tin containers. We, the helpers used to play pranks at times. Once we, the kitchen helpers, put a dead cockroach in the ghee tin and message reached the Mem Saheb that there was a cockroach floating on the ghee. She was literally scared to see the cockroach and ordered us to throw the entire tin of ghee. We all took the tin away and shared it among us. The Sahebs used to be very large hearted.”
Buddu was one of the two peons or orderlies (as they were designated), posted to our residence. He along with Ganga, the other orderly used to help in household requirements in two shifts. While Buddu was Muslim, Ganga was Christian and both of them never saw eye to eye with each other.
Buddu was quite proud of his lineage tracing it to his ancestors, who used to be a part of the ruling clan. Odisha came under British rule in 1803. Prior to that the Marhattas ruled from 1751 and prior to that the state was under the Muslim dynasties for almost two centuries since 1568. While conversing with the other helping hands in the house he minced no words to express his hope and prophesy that it was Allah’s desire that some day in future the Muslim rulers will come back to rule again. Others were really amused by his prophesies and made fun of it. The society in Cuttack was deeply influenced by Muslim culture. More than 2000 words of Urdu were absorbed by Odia language while the spoken Urdu in the state carries significant influence of Odia. Unlike other parts of the country, Hindus and Muslims had a peaceful co-existence in Odisha. Sufism gained popularity in the state leading to the emergence of Satya Pir tradition, where Hindus worship Satyanarayan and Pir together. Sufis believe in the approach of Doomsday followed by restoration of original faith of Islam. Probably Buddu was referring to that prophesy.
Although Buddu served the house as orderly, he purported a different image in his Mahalla. He lived in a thatched cottage very near to the Samaj office in Buxi Bazar. Those days there were many articles of the house which used to get discarded but had good utility value. Therefore, the persons serving in the house happily took them as gifts and carried them in their cycle as they left for their house. But Buddu was different. On one such occasion one of the old trees in the compound was felled and the employees attached to the bungalow shared the wood. Buddu also took his share, but he did not load it on his cycle. He called for a Rickshaw, which was more befitting a comparatively richer person those days. We were amused and asked him why he did so. “Saheb! Here I am known as Buddu orderly. But when I am back in my Mahalla, all know me as Abdul Wahab (that was his real name). It will be below my dignity to demonstrate that I am carrying crumbs from the Bungalow,” he answered.
When we came to Cuttack I was 11 years of age and was admitted to Peary Mohan Academy, then a school of repute and great heritage. It was the school of choice since it was adjacent to my uncle’s house and where my cousin was pursuing her education in the same school. She became my classmate after my admission. The school was at a distance from our bungalow, considering the standards then. I was considered too young to be allowed to ride a bicycle. The rules of the house were all drawn by my mother. The restriction to ride a bicycle continued till I reached 11th class. So, Buddu and Ganga took turns in dropping me at school and picking me up after school hours in their bicycle, depending on their assigned shifts. I had to sit on the top tube and what I used to hate most was Buddu’s chronic dry coughs. I could feel it against my head each time he coughed and there was no escape for me.
The other orderly and counterpart of Buddu was Ganga. Although quite different from Budu, Ganga had a similar past in serving the British masters prior to Independence. The difference was that he was a Christian and considered himself more at home with his British masters during the British Raj. By the time both Buddu and Ganga were attached to us they were both past their seventies in age. While employing them the British Sahebs conveniently missed out on recording their age. So as per records they were ageless and won’t retire. Ganga was well aware that if Saheb wants he can send him for medical test to determine the age and that will be end of his tenure. So he took all care to demonstrate that he was young enough although he had an ageing and emaciated frame and almost lost sight in one eye.
Ganga’s trademark was his salute, which he had learnt while serving the British masters. We used to have great fun, when Ganga demonstrated his youthful vigour. One of them was asking him to salute just as he did to the British masters. Ganga used to respond without losing a moment. But the trouble comes when he tries close both heels with a thud. One heel misses the other and he tumbles to the ground.
He took great pride in his association with the British officers. The office then occupied by my father was in the past manned by British engineers like Mr. Bennet and Mr.Shaw. Ganga had been serving Shaw Saheb for some years. “The Saheb used to emerge from the bath without a stitch of cloth on him and it was my job to dry him up with a towel”, Ganga used to narrate with great pride.
During his tenure with the British Saheb he worked as their cook and had been a good hand in cooking some exquisite delicacies. He helped my mother in cooking and we savoured some of the dishes prepared him. Biryani, cooked by him had unique flavour and taste.
Ganga had some great phobia. My elder brother and a cousin, who used to reside in the bungalow, used to trick Ganga into one of the sub rooms, which was used as a box room between two bed rooms. Once Ganga got into the room they would lock it from both sides. It was pitch dark inside and Ganga would scream and shout like mad. Later, he would say that the experience was like being in a coffin and as a Christian he believed that it was his last day.
One day Ganga was sent out to bring vegetables from the market. Quite some time elapsed and he did not return. All were getting worried and at last Ganga appeared with bruises and his white uniform totally muddied. With his fading eyesight he had crashed into a Bull which squatted right on the road – not too uncommon a sight in Cuttack. But Ganga thought that it will be hara-kiri to admit his shortfall and if Saheb comes to know his job will be at risk. Therefore, he was on the offensive. “Mem Saheb! All the onlookers said, it was no fault of Ganga. It was the fault of the Bull.” All burst into laughter and my mother saw to it that he was immediately administered first aid.
I loved Ganga for his simplicity and he never had a complaint against the others working in the house, in spite of their taking a dig at him every now and then. What I liked most was the home made cake he used to bring for us on Christmas. I am yet to find a parallel to those delicious home-made cakes.
Ganga belonged to that section of Cuttack’s society, which established a distinct identity for itself after the British took over the reign in Odisha in 1803. Soon after the conquest of the state the missionaries entered the state. Of course, there were stiff resistance to their attempt to persuade the natives to accept Christianity. Then they established numerous educational institutes and towards end of 19th century some of the natives adopted Christianity. At the same time they setup orphanages, where the orphans left behind by the great famine found a home of their own. Sill those opting for Christianity were ostracised by the society. When the orphans – boys and girls, came off age it was necessary to rehabilitate them and few village settlements around Cuttack grew up. They were in Peyton Sahi, Makarbag, Tulispur, Stewart Patna, Sidheswar Sahi and Kosliarpur. Ganga was from Tulsipur Christian Sahi.
Cuttack is unique for coexistence of different streams of culture and its fusion into one. The typical local dialect has evolved from this fusion. Buddu and Ganga had their personal squabbles; yet together they represented that oneness of belonging to the culture of Cuttack which stood on the strong foundation laid by the Hindu dynasties over centuries and which blended wih the culture of the invaders – the Muslims and the Christians.
My introduction to Cuttack was through Buddu and Ganga. Days passed into months and months into years. I grew up through adolescence and teen age to enter adulthood, befriending the city and its people. I loved and endeared the way of life, soon to realise that I am an inseparable part of the Cuttack Culture.
Debjit Rath retired from Steel Authority of India Ltd. as Executive Director. He had joined SAIL as Management Trainee after completing his M.A. in Economics from Ravenshaw College. He had a short stint as Lecturer in Economics in Ravenshaw College before joining SAIL.
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