Bachar Thikana) Address to Live
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Mr mukerjee and Mr. Sinha together in their way back to home from morning walk captured Arnab when he was getting out of the ‘Gupta Sweets’ with hot kachuri and Rosgolla’s packet .
“Isn’t Arnab? When did you come”? Ray of Joy and zeal was spilling from their faces .
“Just two days ago” . Arun was about to bend down to touch their feet, somewhat awkward with the packet in one hand But they stopped him .
“ It is fine ,not now on the road. They began to walk turning towards Triangular Park road.
Mr Mukerjee, ‘Why did you sell your house , it was almost a mansion and stands as a landmark on the corner of the road! After all the ancestral house was a binding knot with the own country .Anyway , You can stay in my house as your own …… My son also has been transferred to Delhi. Yeah, I miss you !”
“Thank you uncle. But I am in the same house as my friend’s uncle requested me so”!
“Really? Rare to see such generous person !’
Mr Sinha , ”Yes ,whenever we cross by your building ,we talk of you; now a days the young don’t like to talk with us much as you used to do often.” ,smiled little sadly, as he finished talking.
Arnab reached near his gate first and bade “bye uncles, see you later.”
Mr. Mukherjee, “Well Arnab, come to my house in the evening and have dinner. We will share lots of old stories .”
“It is fine!” Arnab was all eager to leave these uncles as he was feeling the warmth of ‘kachuri’ near his chest and appetizing smell made him hungry to inaugurate them as breakfast as quickly as possible, before they got cold.
Arnab sold his apartment to the uncle of his friend , Vishal Chopra . Presently Uncle went in Singapura to launch his business of Modeling He had to travel Delhi ,Mumbai ,Calcutta and now Singapura throughout the year for his business. His family live in Delhi. Uncle is very close to Vishal . Uncle bought this house in Calcutta for the purpose of investment . He kept the key of his apartment to Vishal and told though he has been the new owner but Arnab is free to stay in the same apartment whenever he would come in Calcutta, instead of staying in hotel. Arnab
came alone , leaving his family in Canada and stayed in the uncle’s apartment.
Coming back to the comfort of luxuriant apartment Arnab kept the packet on the dining table. The well- trained Nepali caretaker served the snacks in fancy Japanese crockery and asked whether he would prepare regular smoothie for him.
Shaking head Arnab said , ‘ Nno, give me a full pot of tea instead, that special green leaf Lipton tea .
………..He began to ruminate the old story of his neighbours with the delicious Indian snacks.
Mr Mukerjee , and Arnab’s father were old family friends .
Grand father of Mr Mukerjee ,whose name was Bhabesh, was an employee in the laboratory of Calcutta Medical college ; he became rich after he started a business of skeletons and old bones. He bought an old, empty abandoned stable near the burning ‘ghat of Lower Chitpur road. It was about 1940s. He hired a team of ‘doms’=(doms are lowest caste of people in India whose job is to burn the dead body.) who collected the unwarranted dead bodies ( at free cost )which were stored in that abandoned stable. Then he bought maggot and spread them on dead bodies which were turned into skeletons within very short period of time. The maggot consumed the flesh from the bodies cleanly except the bones. After chemical processing, the bones were exported in London. His business flourished very soon as it was almost a monopoly business at that period and for the opportunity of exporting to London in collaboration to the Metlock company. It became famous as M.M.C Enterprise (in alias of Mukherjee and Metlock corporate Enterprise. ) Near the entry of the lane there was a club of young neighbourhood boys. Mr Mukerjee was always nice to them ;He used to offer them monetary help ,whenever asked, more than their expectation. He knew well the tricks and tips of running a business smooth . But still some urchins often threw comment behind him , hey,’ look at the Maximum Mental Collupsible’ enterpriser !’ A haunting phenomenal phantom !!
Bhabesh pretended as if, he heard nothing.
Young Jogesh, the eldest Son of Bhabesh ,joined in father’s business after graduation in bioscience from the Scottish Church College. By the time lot of changes happened . India went through turbulent time and won freedom in 1947 .With the freedom Bengal was divided into two ; One half went under east Pakistan and the other half as West Bengal with Calcutta as its Capital. In 1959/60 due to some litigation and legal issues regarding restrictions of bone business, grandfather Bhabesh Mukherjee sold the M&M.C Enterprise. But by the time they became millionaire which they invested prudently in land and houses. Nagesh ,Son of Jogesh was then a high school student. Nagesh was most beloved grand son of Bhabesh.
Bhabesh Mukerjee dreamt of Nagesh to be a doctor , to be a MD in anatomy . But
Grandfather passed away before Nagesh became a pathologist ; Nagesh had his own pathological lab in Jodhpur Park after he became qualified as pathologist. He now ust visits the lab for two three hours in the afternoon and arranged a team of technicians, a pathologist, a physician who run the lab. He enjoys the comfort of retired life. He is a widower. But his mother aged 93 is still alive.
Arnab and Rajesh ,son of Nagesh Mukherjee , were classmates in St.Xaviers’ School.
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Arnab finished his tea while looking from the balcony the playful kids on the ground that took him to cherish his own childhood memories Then getting ready he came down for going to Mr Nagesh Mukherjee’s house. Poltu and Biltu ,sons of Vishal Chopra came like galloping horse from the play ground and asked ,holding his hand, “where are you fleeing, Uncle? Must come back soon .We will not leave you to sleep until tell us a story, o.k?
“ Sure”!
“We want a ghost story”-shouted the boys in demanding voice.
The boys went back running again to join the play.
Arnab proceeded; just crossing three or four buildings. It was rich upper class neighbourhood. He stopped in front of “Mukherjee Lodge” inscribed on the marble-pillar of the gate . The faded brick coloured building stands at ten or twelve feet far from the gate. The garden looks like an uncared orphan ;The half dry ‘jhau’ trees Stand still in the autumn evening to convey the message ,“once upon a time…………”
The oval shaped building encircled by several stairs is partitioned by walls into three parts. He noticed the middle section is named “BACHAR THIKANA” under which is written Mr.N. Mukerjee .
Arnab murmured “BACHER THIKANA” which means Adress to Live! The ancestors accumulated heap of money with the business of skeletons and bones from anonymous corpses while promoting the successor with the magic stick of “Address to Live” . Such an irony of fate! Arnab smiled silently ,pressing the door -bell.
A servant opened the door. There were three to four elderly men , all well dressed .
Mr Mukherjee stood and arduously welcomed ,” Come Arnab , come ,meet my regular pals!” Looking to pals declared proudly, “This is Arnab, my son’s friend;
He is a great man now in Canada ; He is a MD of Swiss Bank at this young age and besides that”……..
Arnab interrupted ,”Please uncle ,if you flatter me like this ,you have to break the entrance door” ,with the comment he came inside the room ; a big hall; full of strong smell of alcohol .One neon light is too little for this huge hall ; the gorgeous sofa , huge Persian red but faded carpet, the rare collections of curios, but everything dusty and uncared. The pals left; as courtsy, Mr mukherjee also followed them up to door to say ,’good bye’.
Turning back Mr Mukherjee Switched on the chandilier to make the hall brighter.
Arnab noticed some candles of the chandelier are not working; it bears the extra art-work of spider-net; perhaps it is used seldomly.
“So what would you like to take, tea, coffee, wine , or..”
“Nothing uncle, rather we shall relish on past stories.”
“Oh, stories without any snacks or drinks!”he hailed, “Shomvu!” Shomvu took the wine glasses and bottle and busy for arranging them in place.
“I want to save my appetite for dinner; and also I have to go back little early because I promised to tell stories to the children of my friend.” Said Arnav.
“Quite unusual! Now a days the kids are more interested in TV comics / cartoons and not stories from grand parents or uncles.”
Mr Mukherjee, “Let us go upstairs for dinner. “
…..Four storied building; but no lift; The broad white marbel stairs from the living room hall .Mr Mukherjee went on, “We divided grandfather’s building between three brothers ; hence the beauty of the front view has been damaged at the cost of peaceful co-existence. But the roof top is common ; there is swimming pool and roof top garden.
Arnab was watching the oil paintings of ancestors hanging from the wall along the stairs while going to the upstairs with Mr Mukherjee. But all are dusty and spider nets in the corner of wall, photo-frame. They reached a broad half dark room. Mr Mukerjee switched on the light. Before passing the next room which belonged to his father, Jogeshbabu , Uncle Nagesh said ,”Wait , I will show you a surprising item. He went to the corner of the room where something was kept covered by a black rag. Nageshbabu removed the rag kept over a 5/5:6ft high iron cage, and saw a huge bird. This bird is known as Macaw.
Its head was as big as a ball and as tall as to touch the roof of the cage. The tail was touching the floor peeping beyond the bar of the cage. The bird looked at Arnab somewhat disgustingly. It was clear from the body language that it was not happy for this untimely guest.
Arnab could see Jogeshbabu’s room from the bird’s room….. A big Ebony wooden cot; behind the cot a huge mirror with bronze frame ; the mirror hold side by side the reflections of a full human skeleton and a man size oil painting of Jogeshbabu, perhaps hanged from the opposite wall of the mirror ; Handsome ,magnificianntly dressed Jogeshbabu and a bare skeleton with extended jaw from corner to corner of ears , as if ,mocking at the crude mundane reality.
“This is my father’s room , now remains empty ; but every morning I offer incense sick and a fresh garland of hibiscus to the image of goddess Kali.” Coming inside Arnab surveyed the room minutely ;the cot is at the center and on two sides there are matching side tables. Another low square stool with ivory work on the top and its legs resemble the paws of lion. There is a brass-made ‘gargara’ with coiled pipe(= indian smoking device)son the ivory stool. The floor is of black and white marble. On the one side of wall is full of book -cases containing library of books. On the wall of east side the garlanded black image of goddess kali with red hibiscus is too alive to hair raising feeling ;Some burnt ashes on the base of the grandiose silver stick -holder; the room releases sweet smell of rose , may be due to rose incense stick in front of the image; A blood-red velvet covered couch and a low height table with black marble top in its front; A beautiful Grecian urn with some dry and decayed flowers rests on the table; a nostalgic atmosphere fills the air throughout……….
A mobile ring tone was heard ; Nageshbabu searched his pocket and said ,”sorry, I
Left my mobile downstairs ; please wait a little here; He went down briskly.
Arnab was staring at the reflections in mirror and thinking ‘who says dead elephant is worth a million? Does dead body claim less? All these properties had been earned by the man in mirror and his ancestor to feed the next successor. Right at that time ,Arnab heard some harsh voice , “Can’t you cover with the blanket before leaving me?” Arnab couldn’t understand whether it was delivered from male or female; the voice was loud and harsh. He searched and surveyed both the rooms (as much as visible) but nobody was seen . Only the reflections of skeleton and oil painting on mirror grew more powerful .Suddenly the light went off. Arnab heard again the same coarse voice louder than before, ‘ Can’t you cover with the blanket before leaving me ?’
Though the light was off but the reflections on the mirror was clean and prominent . Was the skeleton laughing bending forward ? Arnab felt a current of eerie feeling in his spine.
“Arnab ,(Arnab shivered) be careful,(it was Mr.Mukherjee) I am coming with a torch within minutes, don’t move”! Arnab heard the sound of sandal coming upward.. “ Mr.Mukerjee handed the powerful torch to Arnab.
“Before Puja every year this power cut has been a part of life’ but not to be worried it will come back soon”! Arnab didn’t pay hid to his word ;Instead he asked “who talked just now ? is it your mother?”
“Who else is there to talk?”
“I heard twice somebody asking to………………Just then again the same voice hailed,
“Can’t you cover with the blanket before leaving me?”
Arnab,”there, the voice!” third time.
Mr.Mukerjee laughed ;”O I understand now ; come with me to hold the torch. Picking the blanket he went near the huge cage and covered it carefully with that. By the time Current came back making the room lighted.
“:It doesn’t like light at night So after sunset I have to arrange this. “
Arnab, “Strange, there are so many things to learn .Macaw bird can speak like human !”
After dinner, on his way of coming back towards home, Arnab thought to serve this story to the sons of his friend ,Vishal. **************************************************************************** #[3]...............................................................................
