Chapter 5

Lunch at the forest resort was a simple but delicious affair. It consisted of fresh vegetables from the local market, a serving of lentils and wholesome wild fowl curry all cooked in authentic Bengali style. Moni da, Shuddho’s boss and the Resort’s caretaker cum manager, had taken great effort to ensure that Shrikant would have no reason to complain. Not used to such hospitality, Shrikant was feeling a bit awkward at all the attention he was getting.

After lunch he called up Surabhi to inform her that he had reached safely and patiently answered all her queries. He knew she was missing him but would never say that. He was missing her too. They had a unique way of hiding their longing for each other behind casual questions and mundane issues. They would talk about how the newspaper came in late or the how the milkman forgot to deliver the milk and so on. Nevertheless, both knew that these were simply a way to say ‘life is never the same without you’.

As he finished the call, Shrikant’s eyes fell on a picture of a tribal festivity with women dancing and men playing musical instruments. The physical features of the men seemed vaguely familiar to Shrikant. He believed he had seen someone who looked like them but could not remember who.

“That is a Rabha tribe celebrating their annual festival sir” said Moni da as he came up to stand behind Shrikant. Moni Shankar Bhatto or Moni da was an old employee of the resort. He was around 50 years of age, medium height with a crop of salt and pepper hair falling across his forehead and which he continuously brushed aside as he spoke. His thin, bony and bespectacled face held a quality of honesty that appealed to Shrikant.

 “The Rabhas?” said Shrikant as he looked around questioningly. “Do they live in this area?”

“Oh yes!” sad Moni Shankar “We have a huge tribal population dwelling here. The Mech, Rajbanshi, Rabhas, Bhutias all form part of the demography. The Rabhas form a prominent section of the population here. In fact, Shuddho, the boy who met you at the station is from the Rabha community.”
Shrikant nodded realising it was Shuddho he had seen who looked like the men folk in the picture.
He looked at the man standing before him and smiled.

The first thing that Shrikant had noticed about Moni Shankar were the shining gemstones encrusting his five fingers. When he greeted him with his hands joined together in the traditional Namaste[1], the gems had sparkled and shone reflecting the light in the Resort’s reception area.

Astrology had never appealed to Shrikant. He could never bring himself to believe that his destiny lay in the glint and glimmer of these little stones that conducted a long-distance hotline with the planets located above to decide the path he should take in his life. However, he knew many people did and hence Moni Shankar’s gem-encrusted fingers were not a surprise to him. During lunch, just for fun, he indulged in a long conversation with Moni Shankar about which colour stone stood for what aspect of his life.

Moni Shankar was only too happy to provide him with a detailed explanation and had regaled him with his knowledge on each stone, their significance and how it impacted his life.
“My guiding lights” he had said with a reverence which Shrikant would otherwise have shrugged off as ridiculous. However, he thought it would be rude to laugh it away specially after the way the man was looking after him and all his needs. He had even managed to keep a straight face when Moni Shankar had declared he had one more and rolled up his shirt sleeves to show him the metal armlet tied to his upper arm.
“So Moni da,” said Shrikant looking at him now as he stood smiling at him “What do you think may have caused this havoc?”

Moni Shankar rubbed his hands thoughtfully making the stones glint in the afternoon light. His face turned serious as he replied to Shrikant’s questions.

 “Chilapata and the area surrounding it is where I spent my childhood. I grew up in Alipurduar and completed my education there. I have been working in this place ever since this resort has started. It is part of my existence. I have reveled in its bounty but also felt pained at the change it has been subjected to. As humans began to step into its virgin precincts, the jungle felt abused and encroached upon. Hence, in an attempt to save itself from the abusive clutches of our race, it has receded further away from its original boundaries.
Over the years, we have all witnessed huge changes in the forests as well as in the people inhabiting it. Those who once professed to be its protectors today have turned predators. The flora of the jungle has also been forced to change. However, one thing that has remained unchanged. That is its devoted and loyal wildlife, the original and rightful owners of the land.”

Moni Shankar looked out of the window as his voice became emotional.
“Sir,” he said to Shrikant “When humans confuse their occupation as proprietary, and ignore the legal claimants of the land – that is when problems begin. It is all a case of misunderstood ownership. If only we had realised our boundaries and let them enjoy theirs we would not have any problems.”

Shrikant looked at Moni da with a new found respect. “You do think a lot about this place, don’t you? Such deep thoughts are rarely seen in locals. I would not think, even young Shuddho is hardly concerned of what happens to the wild life around here isn’t it?”

“Well, I think every man is different” said Moni Shankar smiling shyly. Then he suddenly turned towards Shrikant and asked.

“You know why I took this job, Sir?”

“It is quite obvious isn’t it? You have grown up here and would like to be in the midst of all this peace and tranquillity? Given a chance I myself would like to stay back” said Shrikant laughing.

“Peace?” said Moni Shankar making the word sound unfamiliar and distant.

The hint of sarcasm in his voice made Shrikant look at him more closely. Moni Shankar was looking at him intensely as if he was searching for something that he hoped he would find in Shrikant.

“What is it Moni da?” said Shrikant.

“You need a story for your paper? Isn’t it sir?” said Moni Shankar with a sudden seriousness in his voice.

“Have you ever thought where you should search for it? Who do you think you should question? What do you think you will do with what you find?”

Shrikant looked at him trying to gauge the real intent of what the man was trying to say.

“We, the children of this wild soil, are looking for a story too.” said Moni Da “I took up this job primarily to seek that story. To discover the story of our birthplace – the place where it all began. We are trying to find answers to how it all changed? Who changed it and how we can win it all back again? Can your story help me find answers to these questions? Will it allow me to rebuild my story all over again?”

Moni Shankar stopped, a bit breathless, his eyes shining with emotion as he came closer to Shrikant and said “Sir, can your story help us end our Hiraeth?”

 “Hiraeth” whispered Shrikant stupefied at hearing the words from a middle-aged employee of a government run wildlife resort residing in the backyards of the so called “civilized society”. Shrikant realised Moni Shankar’s longing for a lost homeland curiously resounded with his desire for creating one.

Growing up as an orphan, deserted on the streets of Kolkata, Shrikant had nothing other than his name to call his own. Quite early in his life, he had witnessed how ruthless life could be. He still remembered those dark and bleak days of hunger, abuse and tears. He spent his days grovelling for food while the nights left him shivering in loneliness.

One day driven by hunger, he had surreptitiously crept up to a food stall and snatched down a piece of bread.  The owner had caught his inexperienced hand slipping down the counter. Deciding to teach him a lesson he wanted to leave a mark of his guilt on his tender skin. When he seared his hand with the burning wood, Shrikant still remembers wondering why the surrounding crowd smilingly nodded their heads despite his screams of pain.

Over the years, the wound on his hand had healed. However, the memories of that fateful day had created a permanent scar in his heart that is still raw and bleeding. Nevertheless, Shrikant never bore a grudge but rather sought a balm to soothe himself. All through his growing up years and till today he has tried building a world where humanity is a person’s only identity. This, he believes, is the only salve that can heal his wounds. It has been his only inspiration to carry on his own struggle to end his Hiraeth.

Shrikant looked at Moni Shankar and found him searching for an answer in his eyes. He smiled as he answered him softly but surely, “I hope so Moni da!”

Moni Shankar looked away smiling kindly. Something in his smile told Shrikant that the man did not believe him entirely.

Chapter 4

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[1] A traditional Indian way of greeting by joining the palms of both hands together.

Chapter 6 – Preview
Shrikant’s first tryst with wildlife turns out to be risky. He meets with an accident while trying to capture a photograph. Help comes from an unknown person. This incident leaves him curious to know more about his unexpected savior. What happens to him to leave Shrikant so intrigued?
Read Chapter 6

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