Chapter - 11.

“Without 41, I would have never valued Humans.”

41 Deblane for me, is the great Indian unwritten epic, a place of pilgrimage, a song, yet to be appreciated, that soothes the soul as much as it is pleasing to the years. I keep on telling people close to me that if you want to know the world, the best place is 41, Deblane. There is a saying that goes like:

Ja nei Bharatey, ta achhey Bharatey. I know for my non-Indian readers the above statement is too much to swallow. In the statement above the first ‘Bharat’ refers to India, ‘Bharatey’ obviously would mean ‘in India’. The second ‘Bharat’ refers to the greatest Indian epic ‘The Mahabharata’. ‘Bharatey’ therefore, means ‘in the Mahabharata’. So what is the meaning of the saying then? It means, in plain English’, ‘What you don't find in India, can be found in The Mahabharata.’ Are you getting me, dear reader? The saying just goes to make us aware of the magnitude, the vastness, the immensity of the Mahabharata. 41, is no less for me. Oh, how I wish I was a great poet or at least a writer, to be able to make the point clear to you.

Let me try to make a portion of the immensity, the importance of 41 Deblane clear to you. In order to do that, I have to go back in time. For there are not more than 15 people living in 41, including the long-trusted domestics today. Way back in the 70s, when I was in my late teens, there were at least fifty to sixty people living. I may be exaggerating here but that is what the number of people living in our ancestral house, looked like to me. Right now, I am, along with my two daughters lying in the room that was our kitchen at that time. I can still see ….........

Ma, my late mother, bending near the mud oven, blowing into it to keep the fire going. Her face is all redish due to the burning coals. It is almost 12 O'Clock, my Baroma (wife of my Baba's eldest brother) snails her way to Ma and makes her way back. She was an extremely good-looking lady, short-statured, a little bent due to her age, but still stunning with the circular vermilion mark very prominent in the middle of her forehead. Afterwards, Ma asks me to get the delicious porridge only Baroma could make. Of the few people who loved my Ma, Baroma was obviously one. Love, you know, dear reader, is not only reciprocal, but also multidimensional (Am I saying anything new here? Most probably not, but what I am trying to tell is that when someone loves your parents, in seven cases out of ten, you are likely to love that person). Baroma, most probably, knew how difficult it must have been for my parents to manage a very large family like ours. Baroma, Baro Jyatha, Baro Pissima are certainly some of the characters, who always tried to help my parents. Not financially, because my Baba, in his hey days, was a fairly successful man. But these people, relatives one might call them, always tried to provide moral support to my parents. The way I caught my Baro Pissima ( Baba's eldest sister, another beautiful lady. How come all these 41 Deblaners were so beautiful then?) helping my Ma, is something that will last in my memory for ever.

I have just written about one character out of the nearly fifty or sixty people who lived in 41 in the mid-70s. So today, when I overhear a part of a conversation going on in between an elderly lady and a younger one, I get to conclude almost immediately, that there is still true love, care, concern for the wellbeing of others existing between at least some people in this truly wonderful house, nay, in this beautiful world.

I run to Baroma's room at the extreme corner. She has finished making that delicious, mouthwatering staff and is putting the pot down, she pours the steaming 'khichidi' on a plate for Ma. Ma couldn't have been so selfish a Lady to devour it all by herself. She always offered me some at first. Most probably, my Sis would also get her share. Life couldn't have been any better in those days!

Once I have had my share I would run up to Baro Jyatha's room on the second floor of the northeast corner. Now my memory starts playing tricks. Was Baro Jyatha still alive in the mid-70s? If he was, let me just tell you this, dear reader, that I was very fond of him. He was a Sanskrit Teacher, quite good in the subject. If I had any problem understanding "The Chanakyaslokas”, I'd run to him. The bald-headed pandit, dressed like a true follower of Gandhi, seated on a bed on the floor, would start explaining the meaning of:

Gyatibhi bontatey noibo,

Chorena pinaw niyatey,

Danena kshayam yati,

Bidya ratno maha dhanom.

(There is no wealth like true Education. You can distribute it amongst the relatives. No ‘chor’ or thief can steal this great asset. The more you give it to others, the more enriched you yourself become. ‘Bidya’ or true Education, is the greatest wealth one can have.)

Those were the days when one could run up or down to one Jyatha or Kakas or Mamas unhesitatingly with one's doubts. People believed in relationships and offering their best to Life itself. I learnt, living in this building of Culture and Learning, quite early in life that there are good, friendly people in this world. This helped  me a lot to grow as a human, later on in life. Some moments spent with a complete stranger would let me know, due to my close association with those amazing characters, what kind of person I was going to deal with. Like most others, I have always been a fiercely proud 41, Deblaner.

To be concluded….