The Kurukh's Friend, Chapter 4 - Visitor's Novel

by Ratan Lal Basu
(Kolkata, India)

The afternoon before the felling Nimu, Babulal, Meghraj and Dhanesh gathered round the tree. Dhanesh pointed out that the tree had a distinct bent to the north-east and the main branches are spread in this direction and therefore if he could cut halfway through at the opposite side of the trunk, the enormous tree would crumble on its own weight. Examining intently everyone subscribed to the view and Meghraj drew two parallel semi-circles with chalk to pinpoint the region to be cut through.

It was early dawn next day when Dhanesh with his axe approached the spot. Nimu had rented a part of the storehouse of grain at the closest village of a Rajbonshi landlord for night-stay of Dhanesh. He stayed in the upper storey for the night before the felling started and came to the spot before day break with Dhanesh. Biscuits and other dry food were stored in Dhanesh’s room and he took some along for breakfast. Lunch would be sent by his men, Nimu told. Cocks in the villages crowed the onset of dawn and streaks of mellow light approached cautiously winding through the forest and the habitations. Dhanesh requested Nimu to take rest and Nimu told that he would make occasional visits to see if Dhanesh encounters any problem and he also told the latter not to exert too much and perform his task with ease as Nimu had not much urgency.

Nimu left and the eastern sky became brighter as the onslaughts of light swept away the dollops of darkness congealed in the crevices of the forest and the bushes and everything was now distinctly visible. Dhanesh took up his axe, examined the handle, cleaned the head with a napkin and as he looked up he became morose to behold the lonely tree standing alone in the cleared land. He put down his axe, genuflected and muttered with folded hands:

“Forgive my friend; I’m doing this cruel job to save my son, daughter-in-law and the kids.�

The morning breeze wheezed through the thick foliage and Dhanesh could hear the deep sigh of the giant tree that spread around and faded into the distant forest. After the first sign of senescent debility Dhanesh used to sit at the bottom of the tree and was amazed at the affinity between them, the loneliness and sense of abandonment of old age. He used to tell the tree the nostalgic stories heard from his father and in his delusive distraction heard the tree telling its tales from its century long experience.

His mind drifted back to the past, to the tribal life of Santhal Pargana and beyond to war with the Turks at Rohtasgarh. His grand father Somra Oraon, a poor Kurukh, was a menial at a village near Deoghar of Bihar and like all other tribal menials, lived from hand to mouth. Sitaram Bhagat, the intrepid boy who had left home in quest of fortune came back and brought good news of bright future in Bangali land for all the Kurukh youths. His expensive attires, stylish gait and smoking of foreign cigarettes made the young ones trustful to his stories of opulence, highly paid jobs in tea gardens in northern Bangal – brick-built houses, delicious Bangali food, the good behaviour of the employers and the prestige and dignity there. He raised hopes in the hearts of the hitherto morbid Kurukh youths and ignoring the note of caution of the Pahan and the old men, they started enlisting their names for migration to Bangal. Visit of an Angrej sahib, his assurance in broken Hindi and Bhagats English conversations with the sahib removed all their doubts and the hitherto cautious ones queued up for enlisting. Thereafter, agents from other companies started pouring in, competing with each other about prospects of the laborers in their respective gardens.