Chaos in Cachar - Part II

Continued from Part I

Birthdays were much-celebrated events in Cachar. While Mom busied herself with the food (she always baked a cake), Dad took charge of the decorations. The menu usually consisted of idlies, as the Bengalis relished hot idlies soaked in sambar. Rosogollas were bought in large numbers, along with pastries and chips. Dad would decorate the walls with coloured crepe paper and stop occasionally to help Mom with the icing of the cake.

Meanwhile, I would examine my new dress and the accessories to go with it. "How many presents will I get," I would wonder. Before the guests began pouring in, Mom would begin reminding me that I should graciously thank the guests for having come and not make my interest in the presents too obvious. Presents came in plenty and I was allowed to open them only after everyone had left. Till then, we had fun dancing to popular songs and playing games. My dad was the impartial judge, who handed out prizes at the end of each game.

The day after the birthday was always boring. I'd get up and wallow in some self-pity as the great day was over. Going to school in a new dress carrying a box of chocolates had been fun, but now I had to return to my old, boring routine.

School was never a favourite with me. I would wake up every morning and ask innocently, "Is today Saturday?" If I got an amused (sometimes annoyed) "No," I would go on to ask if I was running a temperature. After much persuasion and some yelling, Mom would finally manage to get me into the car that took me to school.

On reaching school, I'd go searching for my best friend Shorboshree. Shorboshree was a little, dark Bengali girl who lived in a little house near the railway track. Like all friends, we shared secrets and our afternoon lunch. She loved to talk about the ghosts she had encountered near her house. A favourite story with her was of a mad neighbour who was chained to her bed. I would watch with wide eyes, believing every word, as Shorboshree helped herself to my egg sandwiches.

Weekends were busy days at home. Mom made me study the entire week's portions. Amidst a pinch and a slap, I would manage to complete my homework. Then I would bring out my little kitchen set and begin cooking. Mom would fill my little teapot with tea and we would drink out of my little cups. She also gave me food to put in my pots. But I enjoyed making mud cakes. Then with my little toy knife, I would cut it into slices and feed my dolls. After a satisfying game, a bath and lunch, I'd be forced to sleep.

Saturday evenings also meant movie time. Around six, all the families would all gather in the company guesthouse (which was occupied by a couple of bachelors). The children were given the best seats in front, but during the course of the movie we would lose interest and venture out into the open and play hide and seek.

A rather interesting girl who played with us was Jhumki. When the movie started, after everyone had settled down, she would begin moaning, "Jhol khabo" (I want water). This would be followed by a fight between the parents - "You take her. I took her last time." The family would eventually be pushed out of the hall by the bachelors irritated about missing the initial dialogues of the movie.

Sometimes we had a cultural evening. This was an opportunity for people to flaunt their talents. Once I was to dance with a friend. After days of practicing, I lost my nerve on the actual day and refused to dance. While my partner Smita danced anyway, my neighbour Mohor took my place. Mohor's family and mine have been friends for years now. We've practically lived in each other's homes from time immemorial. But we spent quite a few years fighting with each other. Today, thanks to the fact that we are both mature adults [!], we are happier pretending we never went through those hostile years.

We had some fun times in Cachar. Often we would go and watch movies in theatres. The company also organised picnics and festivals. I remember walking around with my friends sporting a multicoloured face during Holi, while Mohor hid in her house screaming in fear. I also remember the walks I took with Mom every evening, smiling at the people we saw on the way. And most importantly I remember going to stage eventually to dance for a welcome song. I must mention that I was the letter "W."

Life was exciting and my problems centered around whether I was getting enough attention and if I was going to have a better birthday the next year. The likes of Shorboshree and Jhumki have become permanent fixtures in my mind. And as I think about those times now, I wonder what life would have been like if we didn't have memories.