Saturday, September 15, 2018

As requested by Mr Jairaj Chhetry I sent the following write-up for a Souvenir for Durga Puja in Tura:

Tura Revisited

My first contact with Tura was when my dad received a call from MBOSE to work as a scrutinizer. Though brought up in Cherrapunji and Shillong I did not have the slightest idea in which part of the North-East Tura or Garo Hills was. Somehow I had read in a Geography book that Garo Hills was in Arunachal Pradesh. (I know very well that this admission may not be palatable to all. But this is the truth.) Hence, we had no any idea of the climate either. So, my sister went busy packing all the warm clothes. Trunks were in use then. A black coloured trunk was packed to its full and dad left for Shillong. There was a bus service early at 6/6.30 am from Shillong which would take at least twelve hours to reach Tura. On his return he got down in Guwahati at my uncles’s place. When his trunk was opened, to the utter surprise of all, dad’s clothes had disappeared to be replaced by utensils, clothes, under garments belonging to a not very well to do person. (I do not recollect whether there was a lock or not). On a piece of paper the word ‘Mendi’ was written. So we came to know that there was a place called ‘Mendi’. It was clear that dad’s trunk had got exchanged and someone else must have got down with dad’s trunk thinking it to be his. In of the fact, dad did have an argument with the other passenger about the ownership of the trunks but gave in as the other passenger seemed very sure of his luggage. Dad lost all his coats, trousers, shirts and sweaters in addition to papers and all other clothes & goods. We could never recover the goods. I think we were not too sure how to proceed either. We simply resigned to the situation. Next year dad received a telegram from a certain Mr M. Bose to report for duty as a scrutinizer!!! Dad plainly thought it must have been someone with whom he might have made an acquaintance during his previous visit to Tura!
After almost around a decade I got an appointment in Tura Govt. College (TGC). My sister having been married off quite a few years back I started my journey to Tura, of course with my guide, my dad, and my mother. On the way I was happy to pass a place called ‘Boko’ (in Assam) where I had earlier gone to attend an NCC Annual Training Camp as a Junior Air Wing Cadet. We arrived in the evening of 11th of October and found some accommodation in Raj Kamal Hotel. We met Prof RB, the then Principal-in-Charge in his official residence which was just beyond the college. He was happy to find that parents were accompanying me to my place of joining. He also told us that he had been informed by Madam BKS that a boy from Assam Rifles Public School (I had been working there prior to my joining TGC) would be joining as a Lecturer in English. So on the 12th of October 1983 a day before the Puja Vacation I joined the U-shaped Assam type building at Hawakhana called Tura Government College and returned the next day.
I returned after the vacation and again got accommodation in Raj Kamal Hotel. While returning from college (of course on foot those days) (In fact, we had to walk even up to MBOSE those days) Prof SD broached the idea that I could stay with him as long as I did not find an accommodation and save on my hotel bills. I could stay with him till his family arrived. I was struck at the benevolence and simplicity of the person as we had just started knowing each other less than an hour or so back.
For a person brought up in Shillong, Tura was not a very attractive place. In the evening someone took me to the State Bank of India, Tura Branch to play Table-Tennis. There I found two of my classmates – Gopal Purkayastha and Kishore Dey. This of course made very happy. Tura was a live-able place after all!
I knew I could not pay for my accommodation but at least I could pay for my food. I found out that there was a hotel in Beldarpara known as Hotel Munka where I one could pay on a monthly basis. I entered Prof SD’s house in Fancy Valley with some satisfaction that I could at least pay for my food! My satisfaction was only very short lived. Prof SD was shocked at the idea of my eating elsewhere, ‘How come you are staying in my house and want to eat outside! This cannot be accepted.’ I could not pay for daily expenses either. I had made the payments at Hotel Munka. I could not get the money back. So I had to eat at both the places. Apart from four square meals a day at Prof SD’s place two more meals at Munka’s!!!
My first class was with BA 1st year. I was asked to teach a novel by Thomas Hardy, ‘The Mayor of Casterbridge’. I could handle that easily. I had been teaching in schools and colleges elsewhere, so it was not difficult. The second period was in Pre-University 1st or 2nd Year. That was in Hall no I or II. The sheer size of the class unnerved me. Two sections combined the total strength was around 600 hundred. Thanks to some 200 hundred odd students who would not show up. But a class of around 400!!! I could not raise my head till I completed the roll call. Then as I clasped the textbook and came in front of the table I got back my confidence.
On another occasion, as I was leaving after a class in Pre-university (Science) (Room no 3 or 4) I overheard a remark by a student – ‘Wow! English!’ I knew I had done my job. That was a huge shot in the arm. I knew I was on the right track and this comment served as a very big motivator for my teaching career.
On one occasion, I was having a walk with Prof SD, when a boy who was Prof SD’s co-passenger the previous day returned a torch which he had borrowed. Prof SD had lent a torch to a totally unknown person. At least the boy was good enough to find him out the next day and return the torch. During our conversation with that boy we found out that he happened to be a student of our college. This was indeed another surprise for me. A student of a college does not know the teachers!!! My attitude to life changed that moment. What is the point of my staying in a place and making no mark? I did not want to be lost in the oblivion.
Another very important lesson in life came a few years later. I was residing in the premises of Kamala Stores then. In fact, there I stayed the major portion of my stay in Tura. I had a bit of a tussle with my mother and was in very low spirits. In Tura there is a tradition of organizing “Teachers’ social”. This is a unique programme organized by all the teachers of schools and colleges. I do not know whether university teachers join this programme. There was no University those days in Tura. That year the Teachers’ Social was being hosted by Tura Public School and venue chosen was the District Library premises. I was walking back from college with Prof LDS. I was not too sure of this programme and was in no mood to join. Prof LDS argued his best to motivate me but failed. At last he said, ‘You are another lost case!’ This somehow shook me. Instead of taking the steps down via Bamunpara I accompanied Prof LDS to the programme venue. I enjoyed the programme to an extent. The problem started when the programme was over and the food was yet to be ready. Prof NS took over charge from the anchor and made the crowd happy with NCC jokes. After her was exhausted Mr GB took over charge and was an immediate hot. Then of course I took over from GB. By the time food came people were so hungry that they simply attacked the food. Then there was no looking back. I enjoyed every moment of my life in Tura to the fullest.
I remember another incident. Those days, the only connection with Shillong was MTC buses. There were two classes – the Upper Class and the Lower Class. The bus was arbitrarily divided into these classes. The half towards the front was considered to be the Upper Class and the half towards the back was considered to be the Lower Class. There was also a considerable difference in the fares. A colleague of mine used to book his tickets for the first row of the Lower Class, thereby enjoying the comfort of the Upper Class while paying the fares for the Lower Class. To his surprise one day he found another colleague of ours who also used to play the same trick.
On one occasion I was returning with my mom to Tura via Dhubri. At Phulbari as expected there was no communication. I spotted Mrs Debilla Marak, ADM in one of the hotels. We had finished our meal. I tried to become friendly with her as I was eyeing her and was expecting a lift. As expected she offered to us a lift. But she also said, “My husband’s (Mr Francis Momin, ADM) is looking for some young officers to help him during the elections. I am going to suggest your name.” Double Bonus!!! – I was overjoyed. A few days later I received an official communication from the Election Department to assist the District Election Officer. There was hardly any work, actually! I had to just sit and while away my time. Once I was asked to distribute Paper Seals to Assistants which I did with promptness. I was then asked to check the Ballot Boxes and see if all the essential items where there. I was naïve to believe that I had to do the work really sincerely. While checking I found both the stamp pads dry in all the boxes. I ordered for the immediate replacement of the faulty stamp pads. After having given my verdict I saw the supplier who was known to me. But there was no going back on my decision. Ultimately, one new stamp pad was provided, while the other dry one remained. I sensed a problem which I may not be able to handle if I insisted on 100% rectification. I had nothing to do actually. I was asked to give training to the polling officials, which was the duty of the ADMs. Most of my colleagues were happy as they got a colleague to do this job, though as usual some were not too happy. Most people liked the idea as they found the communication clear and they had ample practice with the Ballot Box. As I had a precious little to do I asked for a vehicle and moved round the constituency as a self declared ‘Super Zonal Officer’. My interest was to use the red coloured fuel coupons for filling the car, with which I thought I could show off quite a bit! I was asked to assist the District Election Officer on another occasion. This time apart from the duties I had been assigned previously I was asked to take care of food. In fact, again I had actually nothing to do. So I took upon myself the duty of supervising. Towards midnight food was becoming short and I was feeling sleepy too. So I excused myself and left for home. Next morning, I received a call from a student of mine Buddhadev Ghosh, who was a Presiding Officer in some booth. He thundered, “Sir, where were you last night? There was no food! As I approached Madam Sela, she told me with a threatening look that you won’t be available!” I had to admit to him that I had to save my skin as there was no food. But I will be failing in my duties if I do not make a mention here of the capacity of the Civil Service Officials. As night started growing and we were getting tired, the Civil Service Officials looked fresh.
In the year 1998 Senior Division NCC was being used for Lok Sabha Elections. That was the first and the last time that such a thing happened. I was in at Umroi with my cadets, participating in Army Attachment Camp. As we expected our college bus to be requisitioned for Election Duty, the army personnel pasted paper on the windscreen saying, “On Army Duty”! I objected but was assured that no untoward thing would happen. As a precautionary measure I remained in full uniform (combat) while I allowed the cadets to remain in civil uniform. In fact, I was happy to wear the uniform always.  I could show off too. At Nongpoh I called home from an STD booth. As soon as the meter started rolling I heard a female voice from the other side saying, ‘Yeh phone abhi kharap hai!’ I was confused and called the owner of the STD booth. He also thought that the billing was not correct after hearing what I had heard. So he did not charge me any money. After returning home I found out that my phone was down and one way voice could only be heard. As soon as the phone rang my niece would pick up the phone and keep on repeating, ‘Yeh phone abhi kharap hai!’ This sounded like a pre-recorded computerized voice. I really felt sad about the STD booth owner. He had lost some money on my account. The next morning we reported at the Police Reserve. The DSP (HQ), I think Mr Baruah addressed the cadets. He gave me his car for my use. I refused politely. I was in fact not too happy with the Trekker! I was then given an ambassador car.
My first work was to get my telephone repaired. I was told that both the SDO and the DE were good persons. I picked up phone and walked into the office of the SDO and told him that I needed the phone the next day as my cadets would be on duty and I needed to take care of them. He expressed his helplessness. I went to the DE but he redirected me back to the SDO. He called him up too. I went back to the SDO and threatened that if any of my cadets was harmed I would inform the Election Commission. To my surprise the bluff worked. For the first time in the history of Tura BSNL the phone was repaired the very next day!
On the day of the election, I flaunted with the ambassador car given to me. I went from booth to booth and talked to my cadets.  All the cadets were happy with this outing. They were being well fed by the Presiding Officers as mostly they turned out to be their school teachers. At the end of the poll as the polling officials were busy submitting their ballot boxes I was still flaunting in my uniform. A colleague of mine from Don Bosco College called, “Burmonda, why don’t arrange a vehicle for us to return home?” I had experienced this problem previously as a Presiding Officer over and over again. Though vehicles were there no one took the interest of helping the polling officials. I found a trekker passing by, blew the whistle and asked the driver to stop. “Where are you going?” “For filling the petrol tank, sir.” “Good, first drop these people and then come back for petrol.” The driver had no other option but to follow my instructions.
On all these occasions I was never assigned polling station duty and of course I have never gone for a polling station duty since then.
There are countless other incidents. I will be in a position to talk about all these may be during some other occasion.
But one thing is for sure that I spent the prime of my life at Tura and I have grown up with Tura. So no matter whatever the weaknesses are I cannot detach Tura from my heart. On one occasion as went to pay visit to Tura a student of mine was so happy to see me that he is loss for words. He said, “Arreh Sir, my original sir!!!” So Tura never forgot me either. The call for write ups in ‘Anandam’ is another such example. So, whenever Tura rejoices I rejoice too. Whenever Tura weeps I weep too.

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