MY GRAND-FATHER. Words-1,187
My mother was an engaging narrator and told me many incidents about our family so vividly that sometimes I feel I have witnessed it myself. This story is about my grandfather who lived in a village of India in the 1930s.
My grandfather had a larger than life persona ; and as was the norm in those days the designated head of the joint family who all lived together which included grandma, seven children and their wives a battellion of grandchildren of all ages along with several house helpers.
. Within the household they followed a disciplined regimen and patriarchal social order ;-
However my grandfather made sure there was no dearth of fun and laughter. Entertainment in a pre-silver screen world meant impromptu plays, comical skit, and musical program arranged by the men and boys from the neighborhood in his own backyard but the crown jewel of all entertainment was an annual winter day trip for picnic with the 40 or so family members!
They would usually go near the local river on a bullock cart for the day but one year my grandfather decided to go a little far away using the newly inaugurated public bus. This was met with much excitement particularly from the women and children. Women at that time covered face with long veils to hide their faces from men and stayed within the perimeter of the house taking care and cooking for the family. The furthest they would go out all year was to the local pond, so a journey by public bus to a place far away from the village was the most adventurous thing that they would do that year.
On the day of the trip my grandfather took the full family to the bus stop. He had counted the number of heads several times in the backyard before reaching to the bus-stop - this was a challenge already. There were veiled heads of the women, the heads of children and other of different heights and no one would stand still in a place!
The bus came honking and chased by a billowing dust cloud as it made its way through the dirt roads of the village. The children clapped and shouted in joy and ran around in circles on seeing the bus - it was a first bus ride for most of them - it was with a lot of effort and counting and re-counting by my grandfather and his attendant -repeatedly until the full family finally boarded the bus.
Once the team was on the bus the veiled daughter-in-laws , who were my aunts, struggled with the toddlers who were unused to the commotion and movement and other children screaming in rejoice of new experience !
Some screamed their lungs out, some settled well on their mothers' laps while some babies just gave up and fell asleep. My youngest aunt, a new mom of two toddlers below the age of two was finding it difficult and embarrassing managing her long veil that covered her face completely and her little boy and girl both crying for attention on her limited lap space. Noticing her situation, a kind elderly co-passenger, requested to take the baby girl off my aunt's lap into hers'. The baby girl was called Putul -which meant in Bengali a 'doll' because she looked nice and cute. Soon Putul made herself comfortable in the new comforting lap and fell asleep.
When the bus reached the stop, my grandfather roared to the driver, "Stop, e-st-op!" and the
the bus screeched to a halt, making passengers sway violently in their seats. Grandfather with his helper attendant got down first; the children were impatient and nudging each other to get down first; all the aunts with their awkward long veil trying to find their own children; some grown-up children thronged around the driver to honk like musical instrument, just for their entertainment and when the driver complied they all started imitating the noise and the crows from a tree nearby also started caw-ing probably on hearing a foreign noise.
It was really a chaos and a logistical nightmare trying to get everyone off the bus in an orderly manner. But baby-girl Putul continued to sleep on the stranger's lap blisfully in spite of the commotion.
Once the family was off the bus and my grandfather had counted them he bellowed to the veiled daughter- in- laws and grandma -
"do you all have count of your own children? Is. everything alright?
My young aunt murmured behind the veil ""My Putul is left in the bus." Daughter-in-laws rarely spoke to their father-in-laws, in those days! let alone in a voice higher than a whisper or a nod.
My Grandfather answered , "Let it be! "
My shy aunt repeated a little louder "My Putul is left in the bus!".
My grandfather dismissed it saying "Let it be! I will purchase a new ‘putul’[ doll] for you from the village fair ;-don't be upset about a toy".
By Putul he meant a toy-doll ! He proceeded to walk away from the bus in his usual majestic gait using a walking stick. Then my grandmother intervened with a loud voice probably heard for the first time in public
"Listen, this Putul is not a toy but our youngest granddaughter who is left in the bus"!
Another chaos ensued with my grandfather and uncles as they started shouting to stop the bus, and jumping into the bus to take the sleeping daughter and handed her over to my aunt leaving the rest of passengers bewildered !
My aunt embraced her rescued baby and kissed her with tearful eyes and thankful glowing face and she was completely unaware that her veil had dropped from the head by the wind and lay around on the ground.
My grandfather with angry burning eyes looked at my grandma and aunts and announced with a lot of gravity,
"Henceforward" striking his majestic walking stick twice on the ground and another hand with finger pointing upwards,
" Henceward, it is my order, that nobody should choose such a silly name in my family !"
N.B 'Putul' in Bengali means a “ toy –doll” to play for the little girls.
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This incident also reminds me that how small changes from regular life used to bring enormous joy to the children of those days. Now most families are composed of one child. And parents buy lots of toys for them one after another and the child becomes bored quickly with the old one. The goal of all parents was how to make their children the happiest one in the world.
But my view is that the result of too much care is not always good for the child.; sometimes little negligence rather than indulgence is better for the.children.
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