Calcutta Notebook
Shoummo

You know there's so many people
living in this house
and don't even know their names

(from the song The City Never Sleeps
by Eurythmics)

Citi never sleeps went the catch line of a global ad by Citicorp. This is the same corp that sacked its India born CEO recently and plans to shed 11,000 jobs worldwide. It is no wonder that the citi never sleeps because under the threat of pink slips it is difficult to sleep. The city, our city and may be yours too, finds difficult to sleep because its denizens often cannot sleep.

Amar Kono Bhoy Nei To or guess I have nothing to fear is the question that Biren goes around asking in his neighbourhood, on the fringes of the city. Biren is marginalised and one who voluntarily gave up his job once his employers became strict on attendance. Biren is a man who is pushed around and he has got used to it. He frequently lives of others, often bumming cigarettes of his tormentors. A general sense of despondency may be behind his sense of fear. It is also triggered by turn of events in the neighbourhood. A builder's office has been attacked with bullets & hand bombs and rumour is thick in the air that there will be a murder very soon. Marginal, unsecure and despondent Biren goes around asking one last question. People imagine the worst and see ghosts in the neighbourhood. A stranded Tata Sumo vehicle with lights switched off and ignition switched on provides grist to the rumour mill. Very soon Biren goes to local doctor with the conviction that there is going to be a big follow-up murder in the neighbourhood. The parting refrain is the same guess I have nothing to fear.

Fate does catch up with Biren. A bunch of neighbourhood castaways having a drink on the sly spot Biren and pounce on him for their bout of fun. One of them points a newly smuggled Chinese pistol at Biren's head telling his friend on the sly that the magazine has been detached. The trigger is pulled and a shot from the pistol kills Biren. This distinguishing feature of this particular make of pistol is that even when the magazine is detached, a bullet remains lodged in the chamber. Nabarun Bhattacharya wrote this short story Amar Kono Bhoy Nei To in 2004.

Ektukro Nylon er Dori or a Stretch of a Nylon Rope, set during a night in a city hospital, is the story of one Jagadish Pal. A resident of Belgharia, on the northern fringes of the city, Jagdish does not subsist on the margins of the society. His son, an amateur footballer, goes around playing in different neighbourhoods around the city for that extra buck. Jagadish is yet to be defeated but he is shaky. He is scared of darkness and gets goose bumps even while walking through a small length of a space that is not well lit. Jagadish works in a private firm and he believes in fate. His son is lying, severely injured, in a hospital in the city. The hospital becomes a den for nefarious activities at night. Illicit liquor is sold through the night by goons and practitioners of the oldest profession stroll through the premises freely.

Jagadish's footballer son is lying in the hospital with a critical injury to his stomach. The injury was sustained during a local game of football when Jagadish's son went overboard to display his skill. The son plays as a goal keeper and a marauding forward dangerously kicked him in the stomach, messing up his innards. Jagadish believes in fate and in the past he has been to astrologers and myriad other soothsayers. His latest amulet is a Stretch of a Nylon Rope. He was advised to get a stretch from a hangman's noose but he learnt that since hanging of criminals is the rarest of rare punishments, obtaining a stretch from a hangman's noose is also a rare possibility. The amulet that Jagadish carries with him is from a rope that a domestic help of a rich household had used to hang herself to death. He is aware that there was a whiff of scandal in the incident. Jagadish carries the amulet with him in person, carefully encased in a 'Mother Dairy' poly-pack. He firmly believes that he will now slowly turn the corner and things will improve. Doctors have informed Jagadish that his son has suffered a haemorrhage but the father is not worried, presumably because he is carrying a Stretch of a Nylon Rope. The narrator last saw Jagadish sleeping peacefully in the hospital's waiting hall, hand on his pocket that had the amulet. He later came to hear that Jagadish's son had succumbed to his injuries. This story first appeared in print in 1988.

Both the short stories by Nabarun Bhattacharya and another filler were made into a full length feature film Mahanagar@Kolkata in 2009. The movie went to Munich, Kerala and New York film festivals. Although the film captured well the angst ridden existence in the city, the viewing public kept away.

On 7 December all hell broke loose in a once quiet neighbourhood of downtown Kolkata. A man in charge of security of a branch of the largest Indian bank suddenly chose to use his service gun. There were no hostile intruders around but the person shot two of his colleagues. The security guard was not out to rob the bank. The manager of the bank confronted the shooter and the man meekly gave in. 'I did what was the right thing' said Sunil Sarkar, the bemused perpetrator of the shootout. He came to work in the heart of the city, travelling daily by train from the northern fringes. Sarkar told the police that 'I may be hanged for this but I couldn't take it any more'. He also said that 'There are a lot of reasons; I can't tell you all of that right now.' Earning a more than reasonable 27 grands a month and having earlier served in the army, Sarkar was not exactly on the fringe of the society. A conscious citizen, he had initiated a group to resist crime in his neighbourhood and would often be spotted removing accumulated garbage from the locality.

Workplace in downtown Kolkata can be an infernal cauldron. Too many people in a confined to an enclosed space and forced to a life of monotony often seek momentary highs in the plight of persons whom the collective has managed to isolate. It is reported that Sarkar's colleagues often threw paper pellets at him and also engaged him in menial tasks, which were not within Sarkar's scope of duties. One of the victims, Manab Basu, often participated in perpetrating these collective acts of humiliating Sarkar. Yet, Basu was the man Friday of his neighbourhood in the southern fringes of the city. A person on whom the locality relied for help in emergencies like carrying the sick to the hospital, for running a charitable dispensary or for carrying a dead body to the local crematorium. Sarkar was often at the receiving end of bawdy ribaldry and also taunted for his sense of duty. Security persons junior to him often played truant in violation of the duty roster drawn up by Sarkar. The other victim was often guilty on this score. Sarkar had often complained to the powers that be but he had received empty platitudes. The police reported that in in the lock-up, Sarkar lamented that by his act he has jeopardised three families.

Frontier
Vol. 45, No. 28, January 20-26, 2013

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