This piece of the chronicle was long due from my end.
An ode to our friendship and our maiden holiday vishika, Preeti, nita, simmi, Renuka and Aparna.
We are a group of 7 friends, call ourselves saptarishis, seven stars.
Two of them moved to Kolkata by the end of 2018 on a job transfer.
Aparna's husband took charge as SP baruipur.
Colonel Renuka and her husband, Colonel Sameer, were in army headquarters in Kolkata.
We all missed each other, as it has been four months since we parted ways.
Aparna invited us to tour the Sunderbans. Renuka, too, insisted we spend a night with her in Kolkata at Fort William, and then the seven of us go to the Sunderbans together.
We wanted to spend time together on Valentine's day, but as 14th February was midweek, we couldn't afford to take leave and go on a trip.
One among the 5 of us had a daughter appearing for class 10, so simmi had to stay back in Siliguri for her daughter.
The four of us packed our bags and three babies and set off on a voyage to Sunderbans via Kolkata.
We reached Kolkata around 8 p.m. on February 15th, col. Sameer (Renuka's husband) received us at the airport and drove us to his house.
The 5 of us set the house on fire. The guest rooms booked in Fort William were waiting for us, but we refused to leave home, so Sameer had to make the space comfortable for us.
We fed the babies, rocked them to sleep and then had a long chat till 3 am.
This was the next day of the Pulwama attack, so Renuka's leave was cancelled. She had to drop out of the vacation to Sunderbans. We decided to cancel the trip and stay back in Kolkata with Renuka, but Aparna has already sent a vehicle for us to visit her and then head to Sunderbans.
Unwillingly, we decided to leave, but on the condition that none of us would sleep that night. It was 3 a.m. Alam, the driver Aparna sent to pick us up from Renuka's place started calling to locate the address. Renuka guided him.
By the time Alam reached, it was 4 a.m. We had coffee, and Renuka packed sandwiches for us to have on the way.
Sameer and Renuka bid goodbye to us on the condition that we would spend the night with them on our return journey, too.
We promised and hit the road with droopy eyes.
I usually sit in either of the two front seats.
If I am not behind the wheel, I always prefer to ride shotgun irrespective of who the driver is.
For courtesy's sake, I ask the accompanying men and women their seat preference; if given a choice, I would never abandon the front seats.
On that day, Alam and I were in the front seat, too.
In the next row were nita, Preeti and her handsome son nirvan; in the third row was vishika with her little munchkins.
We started the journey towards baruipur; Alam was quiet all along, just the occasional small answers to our questions on traffic, RTA's and citizen discipline on the road.
I have this habit of interrogating drivers as they are the right people to explain geopolitical dynamics; with elections around the corner, I thought he would have some juicy stuff to share, but He kept his tongue tied, made no-lose comments, and criticised none.
Alam was a lean, muscular man in his late fifties; he had a thick dark mane and was wearing a khaki shirt, regular brown trousers and sports shoes. The uncoated, thick glasses in a black sheath frame could partially distract one from the early onset of wrinkles on his cheeks and forehead; they made him look older than his age. The muscular hands exposing the veins on the forearm and the erect posture indicated his hundreds of hours behind the wheel. During his career span of 3 decades, he drove around officers, criminals, memsahibs, arms and ammunition all around the state.
We reached Aparna's place in the next 2 hours. While on the road, I enjoyed the sandwiches grilled by Renuka and the team, but all along, the invisible Mukesh gave us company. Suhana Safar Aur yeh Mausam haseen, Humein darr hai hum Kho na jaaye kahin, Suhana Safar...
It was our first all-girls trip, bringing us closer than ever before. We took a small break at Aparna's place, fed the kids, and immediately started our journey towards Sunderbans. We have been missing Simmi and Renuka all along. Out of the seven, only five of us could make it to that beautiful boat ride in the tranquil waters of the Sundarbans.
Thirty minutes into the journey, we found fresh fruit stalls lining the roads in the small villages leading to the Sundarbans.
On enquiry, Alam told us that they were fresh local produce. We stopped to snack on the fruit. Alam took a particular interest in picking up the best fruits, cutting them into equal-sized pieces, and seasoning them with local spices. He handed us one portion each and hopped into the driver's seat.
I offered him a portion of guava from my share, and he took the piece and said thank you. I realised later that offering him fruit was the inception point of the Naughty ideas and thoughts in the minds of my girlfriends watching us from behind.
Both sides of the road were lined up with drumstick trees. When we asked why there were only drumstick trees here, he got into chatty mode.
If you want to engage a Bengali in conversation, talk to them about food, music, literature, and politics.
Everyone will click on one of the topics. Food and politics connected with Alam. He explained about local flora and fauna and answered every question patiently. He narrated eight recipes with a combination of fish, potatoes, and drumsticks. I started making notes mentally of every word he spoke. When we were chatting, for me, only the car, the road, Alam, and the music existed.
The girls started taunting in English; one said, "Is this love per sq. feet? "The other said, "Wish you a belated happy Valentine's Day." The third said this holiday would be the most memorable one only and only for one person. They went on and on only in English, assuming he would not understand.
I replied, " Stop burning girls; you will all rot in hell one day for not accepting fellow woman's happiness. I will not exchange this seat with any of you even for a million bucks. They set the discussion on fire, and we laughed like crazy, all in Alam's presence.
He dropped us at the pickup point and left immediately. We all exited the car; Aparna's army was ready to escort us to the private launch. We took snacks, water, nariyal pain etc., tugged in the kids and walked towards the banks of the delta of the Ganges. One by one, we got in and started settling down; that's when I noticed a smiling man in a t-shirt waving at us; I asked Aparna who is that man waving at us? She said, our driver Alam. He looked young and interested in that T-shirt. We waved back to him.
Aparna ensured that we got the best hospitality in our 8-hour launch ride. Served us breakfast and a multi-course lunch, we had vodka with us, which we mixed in coconut water and drank on the sly. Those 8 hours will remain frozen in my soul forever. The sunset, the water, the greenery at both the horizontal ends, the homecoming villagers predominantly tribal with a mobile phone in every hand, fellow tourists in various launches, the occasional spotting of animals, the excellent food and most importantly the company of people who mattered the most to me. We had so much fun sometimes chatting, sometimes just sitting silently; other times clicking pictures, taking turns in babysitting, eating, drinking, and watching the sunset….
We decided not to spend the night on the island as we had small kids who may need medical attention in case of an emergency, so we decided to turn back and head towards Kolkata. Aparna got the bookings cancelled.
Alam, back in his khaki shirt, was waiting for us on the banks of the delta. We disembarked the boat and headed towards the car. It was going to be a long journey back home. We were lagging in sleep by one night and totally exhausted by now, but the company of each other kept us going.
On the way back, one political party organized a big candlelight march in honour of Pulwama martyrs.
Another group came in from the opposite direction, leading to an altercation and then riots, right in front of our eyes. Aparna came to the rescue. She called the local police station and ensured we were removed from that spot as fast as possible.
While staying put on the road, I decided to get down and see what the fight was about and who the miscreants were? I carried my phone to record the clashes if it may help police arrest the culprits. Unwanted heroics, I must say.
As soon as I got down, Alam started shouting, don't go; it is not safe; why are you going…. I didn't care to listen …. when our loved ones are not with us, we become adventurous; if I had my daughter travelling with me, my first worry would have been to reach her to a safe location, here I was independent and free to explore the option of seeing a riot live.
I recorded the fight and returned to the car; Alam was angry now for leaving the vehicle without his permission, putting me at risk. The girls started again in English: " See how concerned he is about your wellbeing." You and only you surely mean something to him." He felt hurt after you disembarked the car without his permission."… went on making naughty comments. We all laughed like crazy, sitting amidst a riot, posing a danger to our lives.
We all planned to abandon the car, walk backwards to reach the nearest police station, and take rescue in it for the time being or maybe a night long, too. Vishika was readily positioned with her Baby Bjorn in place. Preeti held Nirvan tight, and we all were in a position to jump off the car and run at a moment's notice.
But Alam assured us that he would not allow any harm to come our way. He took his lathi, got down from the van, and started guarding the car against all four sides. His favourite catchphrase was dandha markey thanda koredega; he hurled this at everyone within a meter's distance from the vehicle.
Meanwhile, a large police battalion arrived; thanks to Aparna, she relayed the information from the spot to her husband.
After an hour of lathi-charge, tear gas, etc., the mob dispersed slowly, and our car was escorted out safely from the scene. Alam displayed pride in rescuing us, and I praised him to the sky for the same. The girls, as usual, were ranting from behind. We ensured that all our dialogue was only in English so that Alam would not get any clue of how we were twisting the storyline.
We dropped Aparna at baruipur and headed towards Kolkata to a resort at 9 pm. It was another 2-hour drive. Alam was on a different high, so he was a little rash and heroic on the road, which didn't make the kids seated in the last row very comfortable. He would slow down only when we requested him to. He drove us through one-way lanes, breaking traffic signals. On the way, he ordered someone to get a parcel of fresh fruits packed for us from a nearby village.
As we neared the end of the road trip with Alam, the girls started making fun of us even more. Like how he did everything to impress me, I even joined them in making fun of Alma's heroism behind the wheel.
At 11.30 pm, we reached the resort. We all got down from the car, and the housekeeping staff collected our bags and left. It was time to bid goodbye to Alam. Each one of us took turns thanking him.
I was the last one to speak to him.
I said thank you, alam; you will be remembered forever from here on.
He extended his hand out for a shake. Holding my hand, he said. Madam, I graduated with a degree in English political science and economics from a reputed college in Kolkata. I was the topper in English during that year. I understood every word of your discussion today; I know I am not fortunate enough to be the "date: to any one of you, but believe me, this ride will stay with me too till my death.
I said with an expression of pleasant surprise. Hey Alam, a graduate and a driver?
He said I had 12 siblings; I lost my father at a very young age, and it was my responsibility to run the family, so I picked up the first job, which came my way without waiting.
Maybe I would have become an English teacher at the most or perhaps a proofreader in some publication to get a distinction in English. That's all good English can do for us, so let us not take pride in speaking excellent English. It is just another language, a mode of communication, not even our own, but a borrowed one.
I draw more salary, perks, and robust connections than my contemporary, who started the job as a school teacher.
……… just because I am a driver doesn't mean I cannot speak English.
At that moment, I saw a Shahrukh Khan in him saying, "Do not underestimate the power of a common man."
We were dumbstruck and ashamed of our behaviour. Nevertheless, we overcame it momentarily and praised and thanked him again.
Back in the resort at the dinner, we lamented for not taking his ph. Number.
Our Sundarbans holiday will be the most memorable one forever; what say, girls?
All thanks to Alam, he made our maiden holiday the best holiday.
I had to record this for all of us and leave a copy here. Two decades down the lane, when we go on a holiday again, we will open this and read it then….
