Summers Spent at Mohanpur

Mohanpur is my mother’s ancestral home. Her family historically has been landlords with a lineage running over 400 years. Her ancestors were responsible for taxes and finances of the area and in return for services rendered, they were endowed vast tracks of land on the border of Bengal and Orissa though a special grant called Panja or ruler’s handprint.


Now there is divergent view as to who is the ruler who issued the Panja- some say it is Sher Shah Suri (during the time he constructed the Grand Trunk Road) others are of the opinion that it was issued (renewed) by Nawab Alivardi Khan (first independent ruler of Bengal) while still others opine that it was the last Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar who issued (renewed) the Punja. Well, between the first and the last opinion there is a difference of some 200 odd years!!! Hey, what difference would a couple of hundred years make anyway!!! After all this is not about how old the “Panja” document really is- it’s about how I spent my summer there!!!


My earliest memories of Mohanpur are around 1975, when my grandfather passed away. The homestead (for lack of better words) consisted of what I felt a huge area. It was referred to as “Garh” or fortress. The property is said to be of 100 acres of land (approx 448000 sq mtrs). I have heard that the current main road that runs by the village and is part of the National highway system, is situated within the private property of the family and was given to the Works Department by my grandfather as a connector road between Bengal and Orissa.


I, of course have seen a smaller property- though still referred to as “Garh”, it starts with 3 sets of gates guarded by the “garh buhri” or the protector of the fortress, and within its confines were 3 temples that dates close to 400 years, a large market dedicated to Lord Jaganath who is considered the owner of the market and every shop keeper pays Him rent, which goes into running the temple. There are numerous ponds, large fruit orchards, vast paddy fields, a little dilapidated stable that later became the junior wing of the girls school, a huge empty garage that, once housed a majestic Buick among other vehicles, and now sheltered all kinds of domestic animals, one old run down building that was build by my great… great(?) (Don’t know how many great) grandfather, a tennis court, granaries, a set of rooms that constituted the outhouse.


The outhouse had the library, the office room, a room with a ominous nomenclature of “Bagh ghar” or the Tiger Room which was a taxidermist’s heaven and our hell as it had heads of tigers, leopards, bears, deer, wild buffaloes mounted on the wall with bright eyes that shone in the darkness, there were some other rooms whose purpose I don’t recall today. Then there was the main house which was separated from the outhouse by a garden. The main house had huge rooms, a large kitchen that was large enough to fit my entire apartment, vast courtyards, long running balconies, store rooms, designated prayer areas with miniature temples and a room with a distinct purpose- the “pan ghar” a room dedicated to the preparation of pan – beetle leaf!!!


And amongst all this lived a whole horde of cousins!!! The best part of being in Mohanpur was that I had 2 of them who were of my age group- Shankar and Kakoli. During my summer breaks from school, Shankar and Kakoli would set out to educate their urban uncultured lout of a cousin (that’s me) into an aware human being- sort of an “all round personality development”


The rules of the household was very simple- play, run around, have fun in the morning, have lunch in the afternoon followed by a siesta and in the evening again run around, have fun, have dinner at night and go to bed!!! Simple!!! All play and no work makes Jenny a hyperactive kid!!! My only plight at Mohanpur was the spicy food- I remember my grandmother instructing the cook to wash the pieces of mutton before serving them to me as the spice would really knock my socks off!!!


Every afternoon after a sumptuous lunch, we kids were to retire for our siesta to a huge antique bed that was the Big Daddy of all baby cots (read unauthorized detention area)!!! There was railing around the bed on 3 sides and the 4 th side it had partial railing with a section without railing that was used to getting into bed. The usage was simple- the kids sleep towards the far end of the bed and a grown up would sleep at the entrance, therefore cutting off any route of escape!!! What trust! What faith!! What naiveté!!! Did our parents, uncles, aunts and others really think that the presence of a grown up and silly railing would ever prevent us from doing things that we wanted to do…that we HAD to do????


Lo and Behold!!! As the rice and the dal and the vegetables and the fish and the water and the pan combine together in the stomach and transform into a slow moving sludge that meanders through 28 feet of intestine, benign slumber takes over the body. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for with bated breath… the gentle sound of deep breathing…interspersed with intermittent snoring…it heralded the time to jump over the railing into instant freedom!!!


We would run straight into the mango orchard pick up stones and pelt the fruit laden trees till it relents, always keeping a vigil to ensure that no tattler servants or family members spy on us!!! Sometimes when your patients runs out… you just run up the tree and like a valiant soldier fighting for the glory of your country- you fight the fire ants for the glory of eating raw/ semi ripe / ripe mangoes!!!


Once the required numbers of mangoes have been acquired, we would then proceed with the loot to our secret place (either the stable or the old library… we had to change location every other day lest we get caught in the act) where everything is kept ready in quivering anticipation of a mango feast!!! We had a blunt, rusted, ancient pocket knife that could strike fear in the heart of mangoes as it skinned and carved out their flesh, we had an old ink bottle that stored liquid gold (read… raw mustard oil), a much dented aluminum bowl that housed salt and green chilies and a broken bone china plate on which this epicurean delight was prepared and served!!!


An older cousin was the chef de cuisine (master chef to the uncultured brutes!!!) She would then proceed in the fine art of turning a raw/semi ripe mango into a chef-d’œuvre (masterpiece…what do I do with all of you… study…study!!!) of all mango dishes that had us salivating from the moment go!!!


Ah the aroma!! There is an old Sanskrit saying that means you complete half your meal just through the sense of smell!! The tang of the mango, the pungency of mustard oil that burn your nostrils, the saltiness of the salt and the heat and smell of green chilies combined to form a heady mix that tantalized our nostrils, sent our saliva glands onto overdrive- flooding our mouth with water and glazes our eyes with hungry expectancy!!! You pick up a piece and put it into your mouth….ah (thus spake mangoes) … oh (said the salt)…yeow (yelped the mustard oil)…ow…ow… ow (yelled the chilly!!) Mmmmmm!!! The sound of satiated senses!!!


It can’t be mango everyday… can it??? There are so many options in the land of plenty… you have berries that grow on cane bushes… the trick to eating them is that you sit inside the cane bush and ensure you are pricked, scratched, torn and bled by the thorns on the cane bush… it just adds to enhance the taste and flavour of the cane berries, after all its prepared in a highly health conscious manner- just a pinch of salt and a dash of red chilly powder (contraband of course… it helps bring out the sharpness of taste). Yes, one has to remember the technique of eating them is very “technical” – you need to get it right every time to enjoy the cane berries to its fullest. All you do is to pop a handful berries in your mouth… scream iiieeeshhhaaa…. iiieeeshhhaaa… iiieeeshhhaaa and twist and turn amongst the cane thorn, gulp down mouthful of water and experience total nirvana!!!


Mohanpur another claim to fame is the famous “Grey Langurs” (Semnopithecus hypoleucos also called Hanuman by the simpletons). These primates are hated by the villagers with a vengeance…instead of being revered. The Langurs ranked as low a vermin as rodents because of the damage that they would cause to crops. They simply don’t eat when they are hungry- they just decimate everything that is there in their vicinity – fruits, vegetables, flowers…


We were smart enough to know that you never ever confronted a pack of Langurs head on. Bad blood, old and bitter enemies we were- their Montegue to our Capulets- after all we had history of a cousin being carried away by Langurs and then being lured back and tempted into returning the child (such a mistake committed by my grandparents who got swayed by my aunt’s tears- the boy would have been happy with his foster family).


One fine morning Kakoli, Shankar and I decided to pay some attention to our health and went for a morning stroll in the village (surreptitiously of course- hey man, we had a rep to protect!!!) We were the master of all that we surveyed! We walked all the way to the paddy fields- hey it was ours ok, so we could go there whenever we wanted- so what if we were not allowed to do so!!! As we discussed important subject like what fish do we catch during siesta time and where do we roast it, how to prevent the smell/stink/ stench from permeating the air and other such significant matters of holiday polices- we saw a pack of Langurs sitting directly in front of us!!!


The naïve, silly, town mouse (that’s me) thought these Langurs were there so pay obeisance and show respect, after all we were the feudal lords and this was our fiefdom!!! The wise country mice (that’s Kakoli and Shankar) knew what this was- it was WAR!!! Survival of the … blah…blah… blah and all that jazz!!! It was them against us!!!


Sun Tsu in his Art of War describes how to “Attack by Stratagem” he says that it is “…rule in war … If quite unequal in every way, we can flee from him…” So like veteran generals and master tactician and strategists we waged war by the book!! We FLED!!! However the Alpha male of the pack was a war hardy general and had many a bloody, gory victory to his name!!! Like us he too believed that war should be fought by the book (old school after all, ancient heritage and all that!!) He took Sun Tsu’s rule of war to heart that said “…If five to one, to attack him; [Straightway, without waiting for any further advantage.]…” He ATTACKED!!!


So there we were… 3 valiant soldiers… fighting for the glory of saving ourselves from becoming monkey fodder and laughing stock of all primates of the world!!! It was indeed a sight to behold…country mice were dragging a screaming…howling…town mouse over the rugged terrains of the paddy field!!! Despite all that, we WON, surviving all adversities on our path!!! We managed to reach our stronghold where the enemy dare not step in, at least not now with so much reinforcement (villagers) around!!


The victorious soldiers returned to their fortress with all humility of the truly brave. Braves who fought and lived to tell the tale of a vicious battle that took place long… long …long ago on the difficult topography of a paddy field… one summer morning in Mohanpur.