Slave

“During November- when it starts snowing in Guwahati the children grow very cheerful. Roads, house tops, flowers, trees, plants, vehicles all turn white. It looks as if a never-ending white blanket covers the entire city. As if the whole earth is illuminated by spotless white light. Sometimes the water in the ponds also freezes.  Boisterous children wearing nailed boots & colourful caps come out of home very eagerly with their skis, sledge-cars and roller skaters.  They merrily throw snow balls at one another & skid on the snow. They ski on the slopes. Water has frozen in the small pool close to Anju and Manju’s house. Entire night’s snowfall has brought the pool to the same level of the bank. Jubilant Ranju and Manju are crossing the pool time & again roller skating. Runumi has discovered that snow envelop had leveled the slope in front of their home. She is hurriedly going down the slope with her baby sister seated on a wooden wheeled box. With our jackets buttoned up to neck, we have come out to see the snow. Cold morning breeze is biting our uncovered faces and ears like needle pricks. Snowflakes as light as cotton wool are melting on our faces and clothes.  Over there the boys are making a massive snow man. Herr Barooah has opened the snow covered gate and is coming out to the road. He has tightly wrapped a blue muffler round his neck and is looking for his car parked in front of his home. The car, by now fully covered with snow all around, is looking like an ‘Igloo’ of Eskimos. Oh, how will he get inside the car? Over there Frau Barooah has come out waiving to Herr Barooah. She is searching the letterbox for letters. But the letter box has turned white. Frau Barooah is rubbing her hands on the apron to warm up & is scrapping the snow from the letterbox   ……………….”

Frau Mueller read my essay loudly up to this point, removed her ancient round spectacles and said “Splendid, splendid. Looks like there is no grammatical mistake, very commendable” .Then with little hesitation “But I did not know that it snows in your land like ours.” She rotated the globe placed amidst books with her forefinger to find India & looked closely through her specs. “Yes-just below the equator is passing- torrid zone-Assam-Assam-Ach here it is, Guwahati- Guwahati where, Guwahati ………….”

“May not be in this globe” I said hurriedly, “Here is Shillong-the capital on top of a hill, very cold-directly below it is Guwahati”.

Evading Frau Mueller’s query, I started describing Shillong hills earnestly, “Home of Khasi people, serpentine hilly roads, like the villages of hilly Bavarian region. Spring and ‘Kurung’, and pine trees like your ‘tane’ trees. Several big waterfalls are there, electricity is produced from these.  Climate is cold, or mild, popular place for spending summer holidays. From the plains about hundred kilometers, but road is one way; of course a drawback, even if…“

“Yes? Yes?” head Frau Mueller nodded her white hair covered head Frau Mueller listened to me, but as if in mild perplexity. In between she started marking my essay with a blue pencil. The business management or business administration establishment where I have come to learn my job, had sent me to this lady at ‘Padaegasis Institute’ (learning school), to give a test on knowledge of German language. Till now I have remained a trainee. If I pass in the examination, they will give me status of a regular employee. At the end of training I will be awarded a diploma.

Frau Mueller said that she has read quite a lot about India and Japan. Specially, she has great desire to visit India once, to see the country. God willing will take her both children –Gretshan and Frisch to show the fairy like countries of east. Not to bring diplomas. The lady is middle aged, but it seems that she has great inquisitiveness. ‘No, yeah Herr so & so I am constrained to say that your essay has amazed me. Even though, your German grammar and composition of sentences are overall acceptable, but there are some basic mistakes which if our school children happen to read will get amused.” “Yet the essay….” There was a shadow of doubt on the loving face of the lady. “No, yeah- on the whole fine.  It was a pleasure to meet you.” The lady picked some coal from the bucket, put these on the stove. Perhaps suddenly remembering that I had come from the Torrid Zone said “Initially perhaps you found the place very cold isn’t it? Yet the way you gave such a good description.” The lovely face of the lady was momentarily clouded. “Is the room warm now? If it is too warm you may remove your coat.”

“Thank you Frau Mueller” I said and removed my coat & hanged it on the back of the chair.

Face downwards Frau Mueller did some more markings on the bunch of papers, wrote some remarks and asked me “Tell me- this business management subject; is it not developed in your country? I mean to say that you had to come this far for the diploma.”  She smiled ……………”I mean, I hear that our business norms even differ with the other European countries, must be very different from Asia. What will your country gain by the diploma?”

How do I react to that? Somehow I will manage the diploma, take it home and shake it in front of my people. Promotion is definite with a German Diploma. First few years I may not be able to buy a piece of land or not even a car, but I will remain foreign diploma holder all the same. Tom, Dick and Harry have also returned by various dubious ways and means, grabbing diverse opportunities by hook or by crook. Life is disgraceful for those who fail. Consequently why should I not? If I had land I would have pawned it, If I had been a brilliant student, I would have earned a merit scholarship. Those things not being there, I did not lose any opportunity to grease all sorts of people that counted. I have taken leave without pay from my employers and at last I am here. Somehow I will pass these months……………..

But Frau Mueller does not understand these things. Therefore I briefly replied “Helps me in my job.”

‘O’ the lady appeared to not to have understood. Then she kept away the papers as if to end the baffling conversation and said ‘OK I will send the report of the language exam today itself. Congratulations.’

Then I have passed.

“Thank you Frau Mueller?”

After that she told me that she would be happy to know the response of Rickman Unt Rickman from me.

“Definitely I will let know”

I was about to get up from the chair and pick up my coat, thinking ‘my salary will go up by hundred fifty marks in one jump ’  

‘Whatever it may be’ Frau Mueller looked at the wrist watch and said ‘Twenty minutes   left for my next examinee to come -Iranian boy, have come to study safety & security of oil pipelines. Very green, maybe the homework I had given…………..” The lady again looked at the watch “Now at eleven is coffee time. Can I offer you a cup of coffee ?”

“Thank you Frau Mueller”.

“Once the exam headache is over, God willing you will be able to reach home finishing your work in six months’ time.  Being so far away, you must be feeling homesick? Who all are there at your home?”

I remembered the scene at the time of leaving home. That month it rained incessantly without break; four wheelers and even rickshaws would not move on the narrow path linking our home to the main road which was transformed into a flowing river. Leaving the luggage to my barefooted office boy, my brother and myself, both also barefooted with trousers rolled up negotiated the drain. Even though my younger sisters are used walking through the path with sandals in hand, that day they were not allowed by me to do so. Firstly, they would have wept loudly as soon as I got into the cab. A very embarrassing situation- I might have got delayed in the bargain. Secondly, with the rains, arrived many types of insects, small frogs, snails. They occupied walls & floors of our house. Caterpillars of many sizes also appeared. Both sisters were stung by hairy caterpillars; allergic rash covered their hands. They put limestone paste on their earlobes which is said to be a proven remedy. Their hair & dress were unkempt.

Thirdly on the marshy land behind our house, a colony of people of unknown origin resides.  They do business of rickety furniture, dumps of rotten onions, potatoes or stolen

plastic goods, money bags, goggles and hawai sandals etc. Sometimes I had seen their children squatting in a line in the open. What the elders do is a mystery. Now, during rains, water overflow from that area onto our path. Dregs of filthy materials settle down on the potholes emitting a moist stench amidst all other unpleasant odours.

I knelt before mother, then father and then several elderly persons who came to bid farewell. Mother was blowing her nose & drying her tears with the tip of her ‘chaddar’    . Probably she caught cold due the humidity created by leaking water from the walls of kitchen. The bed room too has a leaky roof through which water trickles down. Mother’s disposition starts getting worse when the rainy days come. The cemented platform for washing dishes is surrounded by muck; the maid is unable to reach the platform. As a result all the used utensils are lying in the kitchen. Clutching the curtain in between tears she keeps looking alarmingly at her feet for caterpillars. Now at this hour, a large number of caterpillar expresses are moving to and fro on floor of the house. If she senses that something is moving on her feet, she jumps in fright shouting ‘ ou ma, what is this thing ?

Father is giving me his departing advice, cautions and directives. He is wearing socks with sandals. A retired teacher, he is suffering from rheumatic pain. In this weather his mood remains sour. On top of that, the sound of mosquitoes hovering close to the ear is present in the darkened, damp narrow room. Wherever he sits, bugs bite. He smokes ‘hooka’ and keeps scratching his body. He admonishes us on every small pretext.

I can visualize that when father will be alone after I had left, sisters and others also moved away, mother will place some mango slices and a cup of tea in front of him. His harsh voice will somewhat soften up. But not for long, because a flea will sit on the cup and from somewhere big flies will appear and circle above the mango slices. Today father will not go out anywhere. How can he move across the water body? He will light the lantern and read ‘Asom Bani’, a daily newspaper… ‘Rain destroyed crops in one region; floods everywhere shortage of food staff here: cholera epidemic breaks there. Therefore prices of rice will go up. Due to heavy  rains roads are sinking, bridges collapsing, flood waters are creating oceans inside bus & train stations due to which passengers are unable to move…’Ricshawallas’  have vanished …no trains, no post,  no telegraph; no road movement .Crowds of people who lost homes are crowding everywhere etc – Often repeated stories –and In the district library  ‘Festival of Rain’ organized by  ‘Madhugunjan’ Cultural Group will be inaugurated by Academy Award winner eminent………………………..

My brother Niren, a college student is little romantic type. He is also one of ‘Madhugunjan Society’s’ honey sucking bumblebees. I could well imagine what he would do after dropping me in the airport. He will enter our lane raising his stained pyjama spoiled by splashing muddy water, cursing the Municipal Corporation. Manik Babu, the ward councilor’s new house is located almost at the entry to the lane. As usual he will stop in front of Manik Babu’s House, give a angry look and start showering abuses. In the entire locality, only the portion of lane reaching up to Manik Babu’s house is paved due to some mysterious reason. Social accountability ends there. After that he will somehow manage to reach his house, remove the payjama & kurta, wash his feet, wear sister’s sandals; with a cup of tea enter his room.

I do not know whether he will pull out the copy of ‘Sanchayita’, a thick book of poems from the shelf or not; which depends on his mood- where it is written that ‘our home land becomes exceedingly beautiful during rainy days. In this rain soaked day under the cloudy sky, in the infinite  rain brought solitude, we young men & women sit together face to face  with heavy hearts & keep staring  foolishly at one another.’

Now we can keep our eyes closed & ears plugged. When the poet is praised by Englishmen, his words must be true. Our country is so beautiful, so spotless, so peaceful, a dreamland full of glamour. When the rain pours every city, every village, every road, every forest, become clean, more enchanting.

Happily I took a sip of coffee. At last my dream is coming true. Coming month I shall be able to send 300-400 marks home. Hopefully some of father’s room walls and kitchen leaky roof will be repaired.

I will try to get the some portion of the lane, connecting my home to the main road paved with Manik Babu’s blessings. Also clean the blocked drain, cover the drain if possible. Of course more services do not fall within my scope. Is everything to be done by one person? Did I burn all the oil to come to Germany only to perish thinking of welfare of all the public after returning home? Am I such a fool?

Time of arrival of the Iranian student was fast approaching. Frau Mueller got up from the chair and shook my hand, could not help repeating  ‘a description of your city’ the one I wrote in German and gave her –the aufsatz’ is beyond her expectations, devoid of mistakes and  described by an expert  hand. Had she known earlier, she would have given a harder task, ‘’Presume –a description of your city after the snow starts melting.’

I kept my fingers crossed but smiled.

‘Perhaps  it is same like ours –what I can imagine after reading your  ‘aufsatz’; she moving her fingers  through her white hair she slowly and slowly said  “snow is melting,  and snow covered  red  roofs of buildings, shape of things ,trees and shrubs, roads and lanes are slowly  coming back to original state. Once again life returned. Of course because of melting snow and muddy water, the roads are getting little filthy and water accumulating at some places. After some time the snow removing vehicles will come and clean the snow from the road and it will become clean again like before. The city fathers are responsible for upkeep of the city; individual citizen is not to worry. In some lanes the snow removal vehicles cannot enter. In these areas we citizens know how to make our own arrangements, thank God. For instance my house is located in a narrow lane called Klinkarfuchgase. Have you ever gone that side?  Entry adjacent to Yakubi Church- These vehicles do not enter the lane- My two children clean the snow in front of my house with spade. Two of our neighbours are old couples; there is no able bodied person. I tell Fritz and Gretchen to clean the snow in front  of their homes also- whatever it is , perhaps in  your side also…’

Somehow keeping my smile intact  I continued listening, slightly nodding my head. In the future if I have children, I shall marry my ‘Gretchen’ to some boy returning from here, and send my ‘Fritz’ to get a diploma. Now Frau Mueller is talking about getting somebody’s house cleaned by them after the snowfall stops or rain ceases; she is talking about cleaning other people’s homes. What a fool?

Once the snow fall or rain ends, how nicely roads and drains of our town, our pockmarked lane and backside refugee colony will present itself? Of course I  cannot write an essay and  give to  the lady, because I do  not possess  that  much knowledge of German  language. The description I had  written ( not difficult to guess) was copied from  an  old book  ‘Simple German Learning -Snow in our town’ only  I  had  altered  the names.  In place of ‘our city’ I put ‘Guwahati’.

Trans

{Translated by Wing Commander (Retd.) S.K Baruah from the Assamese short story ‘Golam’ by Saurabh Kumar Chaliha}