I am sticking my neck out not because I don’t fear the iron fist of the entire administration smashing down upon me but because I know that the topmost positions of the District and Police administration in Kalimpong are decent sincere people and would address this issue once it becomes public.

Ever after the District of Kalimpong was created dozens of new administrative positions have been created. The Sub-divisional administration in Kalimpong was earlier run by just three Magistrates- the Sub Divisional Officer, the Second Officer and the Third Officer. The Police Administration too just had one Addl SP, One Inspector in Charge, One Court Inspector and one Officer in Charge. Now there is a glut of Magistrates in the District Magistrate’s Office itself (almost 30), the Police Administration has dozens of Officers and then every other office in Kalimpong has high ranking officer and everyone of these officers is entitled to an Official Vehicle.

Herein line the problem.

First and foremost, most of these VIP cars flaunt the basic rules of the West Bengal Government- as far as common sense dictates, all vehicles that are hired for official use must have a taxi registration. In Kalimpong there are numerous vehicles that can be seen on the roads sporting “Government of West Bengal” or “Magistrate” or “Police” stickers but having private registration plates. Let’s forget this for a while on the assumption that the payment for the hired vehicles is so low that vehicle owners cannot afford to pay the commercial registration fees, hence use private registrations. But then the same relaxation should also be allowed to other vehicles in Kalimpong who have private registration plates even though they ply as taxis.

This though is not the subject of this article- the article attempts to deal with what seems a classic case of law enforcers becoming law breakers. Anyone who has driven the roads of Kalimpong will have experienced how these official cars have become a law on to themselves. For them overtaking, honking, claim the right to the road and parking wherever they want and however they want and even flashing their blue VIP lights and siren whenever they wish (even if there is no VIP on board) is a privilege they have claimed for themselves. For them, even “one way traffic” or “no entry matters” little. Lowly drivers like me and the rest can take a hike, for all they care.

No one dares to question them for obvious reasons.

My personal experience is that if there is a VIP (so called) inside the vehicle then it is more inclined to follow rules and the driving is definitely more disciplined. The problem generally arises when the vehicles are either off duty or when running errands for their bosses. I won’t go as far as calling it road-rage but surely many drivers of VIP cars could be feeling a sense of false importance when driving a vehicle with a VIP sticker. It probably gives then the thrills just to find themselves in a position of power that driving a VIP around gives them.

I overheard a fellow driver commenting “ Yo VIP haru ko driver haru lay tha afu lai VIP bhanda thulo sochcha” ( These VIP drivers think of themselves as even bigger than the VIP themselves).

The VIP (bade miya) of course has the power and the privileges but his/her chauffeur (chote miya) is indeed king of the road.

“Bade Miyan Toh Bade- Miya Chote Miya Subhan Allah”

The post Bade Miyan Toh Bade Miya Chote Miya Subhan Allah appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

The high and mighty from across the globe made this place their favoured destination- Kings, Queens, scholars, religious personalities and royalty made a bee-line to obeisance before the Queen.

Then like all good things and times, the romance of the Queen with her countless lovers ended too- The romantic liaison that the British had with the Queen ended with them being forced out of India in 1947. The Queen was left behind like a ditched lover- sorrowful, dejected, unkempt and neglected. The new Indian Nation neither had the resources nor the interest to continue this romance.

The Queen was bored and lacked any form of entertainment and hence turned to a few clowns in an effort to stay amused and entertained. She had hoped that one of the clowns would one day mature and become King and help, both her and her palace, regain its past glory. Her kingdom and her subjects waited with abated breath waiting for this king to arrive but so innocent and gullible were her subjects that they hadn’t even heard of this old Turkish proverb which said-   WHEN A CLOWN ENTERS A PALACE, HE DOES NOT BECOME THE KING BUT RATHER THE PALACE BECOMES A CIRCUS.

This is exactly the state that the Darjeeling hills are at the moment. The Kings that we thought would lead us to the path of progress and across the beautiful and bright horizon, actually turned out to be Clowns in the guise of Political leaders, making this heaven on Earth a joke in the eyes of the world.

The issue we have is very simple- we in the Hills need a separate State of our own- keeping aside sentiments- we want it so that we are responsible for our own future, so that we ourselves can guild our coming generations into the path of progress and success, so that we ourselves are in control of what we want without making a detour vide the deep, dark, insensitive and often hostile corridors  of Nabanna. The issue is clear- we want a separate State of our own and ideally there should be no confusion in this.

This fact has been understood by the State and Central Governments very clearly. There is no confusion in their minds on what we actually want. The general public in the Hills too have no confusion on what it wants- it know that the thousands of lives that this place sacrificed was only for the cause of a separate state- nothing more nothing less- not for a DGHC or a GTA or a North Bengal State or a Simanchal Pradesh or for merger with Sikkim or for Tribal status for the remaining Hill communities. The sacrifice was solely for a separate State for ourselves.

Yet the Hills are in a confused state of mind not because the State or Central Governments are confused or the public is confused but because our clownish leaders are confused. So confused are they that each different political grouping seems to be demanding different things- some want North Bengal State, some advocate merger with Sikkim, some are demanding 6^th Schedule status and another set demanding PPS- whatever that may mean. It is hilarious to know that even those demanding PPS do not know what PPS is.  Isn’t this clownish? No wonder our place as turned into a circus- just like the Turkish Proverb quoted above.

What needs to be analyzed is whether many our leaders are born clowns or whether their clownish activities are a part of a larger game. I am not inclined to believe that they are clowns by nature but rather agencies working for the State and Central Governments have used the power of green dough to make them act in this fashion.

Harry S. Truman, the 33^rd President of the United States of America, once said famously -“If you can’t convince them, confuse them”. Truman, by the way, was the US President who authorized the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  This strategy of his – confusing the masses when one cannot convince them, has been widely used by Politicians over the ages and I suspect that this is the precise strategy that the Central and State Government agencies are using to dilute our aspiration and demand.

So successful has this strategy been that the so called leaders of the Hills are running around in all directions like confused ants. Speaking of ants- like the countless working ants that constitute an ant colony, our leaders too, are now in countless numbers. Any person, who can go before a camera and speak a few words, starts thinking of himself or herself, as a political leader. There is a glut of Politicians in the Hills at the moment- each braying for the others blood- all while the world laughs at us. It is always better to be ruled by one Lion King than be ruled by a hundred clowns.

All this while people like me and all other hardworking, innocent and sincere citizens of this Queen of the Hills, desire nothing more than a separate state of our own. We can only hope that all of these so called leaders get together and at least demand just one issue rather than falling trap to the cunning strategy being employed against us.

If this is not a circus- then what is?

Let the clowns not turn the palace of the Queen into a circus.

The post OF THE QUEEN AND THE CLOWNS appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

The British discovered Darjeeling by coincidence. It was a stroke of sheer luck that the British chanced upon Darjeeling in the year 1829 and its discovery ended years of search for a Hill station in the Bengal province. In fact till the discovery of Darjeeling, it was almost a humiliation for the Bengal Province that it did not have a Hill Station of its own despite it being probably the most powerful of all the provinces in British India. The Punjab Province had Shimla, Mussoorie and several other hills stations where the officers and families of the British government could find solace from the sweltering heat of the plains, the Madras province had Ooty, Kodaikanal and other hills stations and it was only the Bengal Province which did not have any hill station it could call their own. Cherrapunji was discovered in the mid 1820s and the Bengal Province was overjoyed at having ultimately ended their search but it turned out to be a damp squib- literally- as 11500 mm of annually rainfall swept away their dreams.

Hence, when Darjeeling was discovered in the year 1829 by Captain George Alymer Lloyd and J. W. Grant when they were en route to the remote village of Antoo in Nepal, to resolve a political issue between Nepal and Sikkim, it infused relief and joy amongst the officials and civil society in the Bengal Province.

Ever since its discovery and subsequent annexation into British India, Darjeeling occupied a prominent position amongst all hill stations across India- so much so that it came to be known as the Queen of the Hills.

The very mention of its name inspired joy, beauty, amicable weather, greenery, mountains and most of all-romance. Marriages, it is said, are made in heaven- for many Darjeeling was nothing short of heaven and uncountable are the romances that blossomed under the cool lovely skies of Darjeeling with Kanchenjunga standing at a distance as a silent witness.

While many such romances and marriages are well known and documented on reams of papers or immortalized in celluloid, one that is hardly known or talked about is the drama and high voltage romance that the founder of Pakistan, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, had with his future wife, during his stay in Darjeeling.  Darjeeling can proudly claim of having contributed to the first family of Pakistan.

This is the highly interesting and dramatic courtship and subsequent marriage of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, lovingly called Quaid-e-Azam in Pakistan, and his wife Ruttie, which all started in the cool and beautiful hills of Darjeeling.

Born in 1876 in Karachi now in Pakistan but then a part of undivided India, Jinnah, went to school in Bombay (now Mumbai) and pursued his legal career in Bombay too. He was married off to his cousin, Emibai, at the tender age of 14 much against his wishes. In the year 1892, Jinnah moved to London to study Law and even before he could actually know his young wife better she died in the following year, of natural causes.

He came back to Bombay after completion of his studies and plunged into his career with much gusto and competence. His hard work and intelligence soon saw him becoming a highly successful lawyer with elite clientele. The next two decades of his life was focused in building up a highly successful legal and political career. Not only was he considered as one of the topmost lawyers in India of those times but was also the top most Muslim social and political leader.

In the summer of 1916, exhausted with both his legal and political lives, he decided to take a break from his busy schedule and spend a few months in the cool climate of Darjeeling. Darjeeling at that time was one of the most celebrated Hill Stations in India and was famous across the country and the world as the QUEEN OF THE HILLS.

He reached Darjeeling and started staying in the summer residence of his friend from Bombay, Mr Dinshaw Petit, who belonged to one of the most prosperous and elite Parsi families of the country. His father had established the first cotton Mill in India and Dinshaw had made it one of the biggest cotton factories in existence then. The name of the house in Darjeeling was PETIT CHATEAU and the house offered a wonderful view of the Kanchenjunga as well as the surrounding hills and valleys. The pleasant weather, the cool breeze and clear skies were a complete change from what he had left behind in Mumbai and he instantly fell in love with Darjeeling saying “ if there really is heaven on Earth, this must be it”.

It was not merely by coincidence but probably more due to destiny that Mr Dinshaw’s daughter too was spending her holidays in Darjeeling in the period Jinnah was there. Staying in the same house, spending hours and days together under the romantic skies of Darjeeling ignited romantic sparks to flicker within the two of them.

Dinshaw’s daughter, Rattanbai Petit, called Ruttie by her loved ones, was 16 at that time but was already a fully blossomed lady and a very known face in the Bombay high society due to her beauty and fashion sense. She was already a fashion diva and was called the FLOWER OF BOMBAY. In those early days of Indian fashion, she was considered a fashion trendsetter especially for the stylish designs of her blouses which she matched with much elegance with the saris she wore.

Jinnah was 40 at that time and despite a 24 year age difference between them, their relationship intensified to such an extent in the romantic environment of Darjeeling that they decided to get married.

Jinnah broached the subject of their marriage with Mr Dinshaw, Ruttie’s father, who strongly opposed the relationship. He strictly forbade Ruttie from meeting or talking to Jinnah and Jinnah too was banned from the aspects of the Petit family.  Not only this, the Petit family also took legal recourse and filed a case under the Parsi Marriage Act but Jinnah being the top dog lawyer himself, negotiated the legal complications and when Ruttie turned 18, the two got married in a private ceremony attended by just close friends and well wishes of Jinnah.  Besides others, the Raja of Mahmudabad was also present for the wedding.

They married under the Special marriages Act but before the marriage could take place Ruttie converted to Islam and took up the name of Maryam. After their wedding, they travelled to Nainital for their honeymoon. After Nainital they spent several weeks in the Maidens Hotel in Delhi which is so famous for the Mughal gardens.

It didn’t take long for the initial glow of romance and marriage to dim and soon the couple started to realize that they had complete different personalities. Ruttie was the very sentimental and emotional types while Jinnah was the pragmatic and logical type. Their age difference as well as their completely different interests in life started taking a toll on their marriage. Jinnah, himself was by then a highly sort after lawyer and a top shot politician as well as one of the leading freedom fighter against the British, hence had little or almost no time to spare for Ruttie. Ruttie on the other hand craved for his time and attention which were in acute short supply. Despite the birth of their only child, Dinna, in 1919, their marriage continued to downslide.

The marriage turned so sour that in 1922 she moved to London with her daughter and pets but within a year her love for Jinnah brought her back to India. Rather than improve things, their marriage got worse and Ruttie started to enter into depression. She isolated herself from society and became a shadow of her former self in the following years. Her depression ultimately took her life and she died at the young age of 29 on 20^th of February 1929 in her residence in Mumbai. This is the story of the love life of Muhammad Ali Jinnah and his wife Ruttie which sparked off in the lovely hills of Darjeeling and ended in tragedy in the big bad world of Indian pre independence politics.

The post Darjeeling – Queen of the Hills!! appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

Born in the remote village of Taktser, in the Amdo province of Eastern Tibet, he spent his early life in Lhasa, after his brother was recognized as the 14th Dalai Lama and was later educated in China. Gyalo Thondup finally made Kalimpong his home and the base where from he globe trotted and hobnobbed with some of the tallest world leaders. It was from here that he plotted, planned and directed all his political strokes in his efforts to salvage what he could of the Tibetan freedom, religion and international rights.

So intriguing is his life and role in the Tibetan struggle for independence and survival that it can be said with certainty that after His Holiness, The Dalai Lama, Gyalo Thondup has no parallels so far as Tibetan Independence struggle is concerned. The international trail of intrigue, suspense, controversies and conspiracies that he left behind made him a personality detested and unreliable in the eyes of his adversaries but loved and respected by an entire generation of Tibetans.

Gyalo Thondup’s life story appears so surreal that it seems more like a plot for a block-buster movie or a best seller novel rather than that of a man born in one of the remotest part of the world. In fact his autobiography “The Noodle Maker of Kalimpong” published in 2015 did become a best seller which left readers amazed at the life of this Tibetan freedom fighter. Tibet and Tibetans will never be able to thank this gentleman enough for his efforts to internationalize, popularize and publicize the plight, struggle and quest of the Tibetans for independence from the clutches of Chinese rule.

Born in the village of Taktser, Gyalo Thondup was the 3rd child of Choekyong Tsering and Diki Tsering. Taktser was a village of just about a dozen houses, 4o km from the famous Kumbum monastery. This monastery was built on the spot where Tsongkhapa, the founder of the Gelugpa school of Tibetan Buddhism was born. His ancestors were descendants of soldiers of Songtsen Gompo, who is regarded as the greatest king of Tibet. It is said that Songtsen Gompo, through his Chinese and Nepali wives, was instrumental in spreading Buddhism in Tibet.

His parents had seven children who survived till adulthood. Gyalo Thondup was the second of the five sons while the 14th Dalai Lama, named Lhamo Thondup, was the 4th son of the family. Gyalo Thondup’s elder brother was Jigme Norbu who was recognized as the Taktser Rimpoche in the year 1923.

Gyalo Thondup was the only son of the family who did not become a monk, his father wanting him to become a farmer who would take over the management of the family estate in the future. Born in 1929 Gyalo Thondup is six years older than his younger brother Lhamo Thondup who was recognized as the 14th Dalai Lama in the year 1939.

The 13th Dalai Lama died on 17th of December 1935. Divinity indicated that the new Dalai Lama would be found in the region around the Kumbum monastery and accordingly a search party headed by the Kewtsang Rimpoche reached the village of Taktser and after having put the three year old Lhamo Thondup through a series of tests recognized him as the 14th Dalai Lama. Amidst wide spread joy and a celebration, the family was shifted to Lhasa where the little brother of Gyalo Thondup was officially enthroned as the 14th Dalai Lama.

Life changed drastically for the family once in Lhasa. From being an ordinary farming family from a remote village the family suddenly became the first family of Tibet. The family name was changed from Taktser to Taklha and his father came to be known as Yabshi Kung while his mother got the title of Gyayum Chemo, meaning the great mother. Their status and wealth increased drastically with the Tibetan Government providing the family all the comforts due to the first family of Tibet. They were granted five huge estates across Tibet which earned the family much riches and prestige. The Regent of Tibet at that time, the Reting Rimpoche also constructed from them an enormous three story house with over fifty rooms, near the Potala, the official residence of the Dalai Lama. With this the life of Gyalo Thondup also changed dramatically- Gyalo Thondup was thereafter groomed to be the closest advisor to the Dalai Lama. The Reting Rimpoche assumed personal charge of Gyalo Thondup and sent him for education to a private school named Tarkhang, which provided traditional Tibetan education. The Regent felt that if Gyalo Thondup could understand the history, culture and tradition of China, it would help Tibet in the long run and with this in mind he appointed a Chinese Muslim named Ma Bao as Gyalo Thondup’s personal Chinese teacher. Within a few years Gyalo Thondup had a basic knowledge of the Chinese language and its way of life.

With his elementary training complete it was decided that Gyalo Thondup be sent to China for further education. This was a surprising move as generally Tibetan royalty and elite families sent their children to India to receive education and being sent to China for an education was unheard of in those times. The Reting Rimpoche probably took this decision as an act of balancing between China and British India. Gyalo Thondup left for China in the year 1945 via India. The first place in India that he stopped over was Kalimpong. He travelled to Kolkata from here and life in Kolkata was a complete new experience for this young boy of sixteen. The glamour and glitz of Kolkata gave Gyalo Thondup a cultural shock. It was here that he had his first hair cut and had his first experience of shopping in departmental shops and staying in five star hotels. In April 1946, Gyalo Thondup finally left for China and settled down in Nanjing where he was enrolled in the reputed Central University of Politics. Chiang Kai-Shek the leader of the Nationalist government of China at that time being his sponsor. Nanjing was the capital of China at that time and he was hosted personally by the Governor of Jiangsu province and the mayor of Nanjing.

Chiang Kai-shek being his sponsor, Gyalo Thondup settled into a comfortable life in Ninjing with a personal three room house, domestic and personal staff and a generous allowance to cover all his expenses.

At the University Gyalo Thondup was favoured student with Chiang Kai-Shek deputing the President of the Central University Dr. Gu Yuxice to personally look into his studies. Six senior professors were assigned to privately give Gyalo Thondup lessons in World History, Geography, Chinese History, Literature, Music and Maths. The education and life in Ninjing was an eye opener for Gyalo Thondup. Here he realized how backward and under-developed Tibet was and how defective and outdated the administrative system in his country was. His experience here made him aware of all the modern ways of life and governance in a civilized society. This filled him with ideas and desires to implement these reforms back in Tibet for the betterment of his countrymen and for the modernization of his country.
In the meanwhile while he was sponging in all the knowledge of the modern world, civil war in China was at its peak. The Communists under Mao Zedong and the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-Shek were locked in a bitter battle for control of the country with Chiang Kai-Shek on the verge of defeat. While this was on he found the love of his life in the beautiful Zhu Dan. She was the daughter of Zhu Shigui a leading General on the side of the ruling Nationalist party. She had a degree in social work from the Jilin University in Ninjing.

After two years of courtship the two married in the year 1948. The wedding reception was a grand affair held at the Grand International Hotel in Shanghai. Their happiness in China though was short lived due to the fact that within the next few months the Communists had all but routed the Nationalists and were knocking on the doors of Ninjing. Gyalo Thondup and his new wife had to escape to Hong Kong via Shanghai in March 1949.

During the years Gyalo Thondup spent in China there was a huge political turmoil in Tibet. Both his father and the chief supporter of his family and the former Regent of Tibet, the Reting Rimpoche, died- both seemingly under suspicious circumstances. In his absence a power struggle had been underway in Tibet between the Reting Rimpoche and the Taktra Rimpoche, the former and ruling Regent of Tibet.

The young Reting Rimpoche was appointed as the Regent of Tibet after the demise of the 13th Dalai Lama and it was him who oversaw the coronation of Lhamo Thondup as the 14th Dalai Lama. He was the chief benefactor of Gyalo Thondup’s family in Lhasa. After a few years in office the Reting Rimpoche took temporary leave of office to go into a religious retreat and appointed Taktra Rimpoche as the stand-in Regent of the country on the understanding that the former would resume office once his retreat was complete. Unfortunately Taktra Rimpoche refused to vacate office once Reting Rimpoche returned. In the ensuing power struggle, the Reting Rimpoche was imprisoned and died under suspicious circumstances in prison. Gyalo Thondup’s father too passed away, many believed under dubious conditions.

After the death of the two, the Tibetan government wanted Gyalo Thondup to return to Tibet but he refused to do so till he completed his studies in Ninjing. His decision was also prompted by apprehensions on his security now that his two main supporters were no longer alive and that people opposed to them were in the helm of affairs in Tibet. But return he had to on being forced to do so after the Communist takeover of China. From Hong Kong he made his way to Kalimpong wherefrom he got in touch with his mother who was still in Lhasa. His mother instructed him not to travel back to Lhasa. Since Gyalo Thondup’s wife was expecting their first child and medical facilities in Kalimpong being poor, they decided to shift base to Kolkata.

While in Kolkata the then Prime Minister of India Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru contacted him and invited him and his wife to spend some time with him in Delhi. They travelled to Delhi and had a dinner meeting in which Nehru, his daughter Indira and a host of other important officials were present. Nehru wanted to understand the situation in Tibet and also the effects of the communist takeover of China. Nehru wanted to offer help to the Tibetans and in the absence of any accredited Tibetan Official in India, Nehru requested Gyalo Thondup to be the go-between. The Americans as well as the new Chinese government too contacted Gyalo Thondup and wanted him to be the intermediary between them and the Tibetan Government. Gyalo Thondup made several trips to Kalimpong and managed to relay messages to the Lhasa Government via the newly opened Telegraph station at Kalimpong. The Tibetan Government chose to ignore all messages from these various governments, relayed via Gyalo Thondup, for reasons best known to them. Finally they sent a delegation under their progressive minded Finance Minister, Shakabpa and this delegation based itself in Kalimpong. Although they made several efforts to visit China and start a dialogue with the Chinese Government, all their efforts were in vain as visa issues prevented them from travelling to China. In any case their efforts were too little and too late as by this time the Chinese had already started their invasion of Tibet. The first attack of the Chinese on the eastern frontier of Tibet began in October 1950.

The small Tibetan army, ill trained and poorly armed, was routed in Eastern Tibet. The panicked government in Tibet hurriedly decided that the Dalai Lama, despite being under-aged, should assume full temporal powers for the larger good of Tibet. His advisors, fearing the worst, decided that the Dalai Lama and his Government would relocate temporarily to Droma, a small village on the border with Sikkim. The Chinese having marched into Lhasa later forced the Tibetan Government to sign what is now known as the 17 Point Agreement, which effectively gave the Chinese over lordship over entire Tibet.

While this tragedy was underway in Tibet, Gyalo Thondup was making efforts to go to China and have some kind of dialogue with the communist leaders of China. With the Indian government having refused to allow him direct passage to China, Gyalo Thondup travelled to Manila, the capital of Philippines, with the intention of entering China via Macau. He failed in this effort too as the ruling Portuguese administration in Macau refused him entry visa. He finally ended up in Taiwan where his former mentor Chiang Kai-Shek had established a government. Although he was extremely well received by Chiang Kai-Shek and the government of Taiwan and was hosted with much respect and pomp, Gyalo Thondup was forced to stay in Taiwan for about a year and a half due to the Taiwanese government obstructing his visit to main land China. Chiang Kai-Shek probably believed that young Gyalo Thondup would be influenced by the Communists if he travelled to China. While in Taiwan he managed to send letters to President Truman of USA and his Secretary of State Dean Acheson pleading for their intervention. His efforts paid dividends when they finally invited him to America.

Once in America he stayed for a while with his elder brother Jigme Norbu, the former Taktser Rimpoche, in Washington. Jigme Norbu had escaped from Tibet and had immigrated to America after the Chinese invasion of Tibet. The Americans offered him a scholarship at the Stanford University for which he travelled to San Francisco with his family. Later deciding that he could best serve his country by being nearer to home, he journeyed back to Darjeeling after a brief stopover at London. In Darjeeling he met up with his mother who was in residence there after a pilgrimage of the holy Buddhist sites in India.

After a happy reunion with his mother and other members of his family Gyalo Thondup received first hand information on the situation in Tibet. It was decided that Gyalo Thondup would best serve the interest of Tibet by accompanying his mother back to his country of birth.

Since his wife was expecting their second child she was forced to stay back in Darjeeling while Gyalo Thondup returned to Tibet with his mother. Riding on horse-back he entered Lhasa via the usual trade route after seven long years of absence from his country. Back in Lhasa Gyalo Thondup bustled with excitement on the prospect of finally getting a chance to implement all the ideas and experiences he had gained living in places like China, Taiwan and USA. Having closely followed the land reform policies of China and Taiwan as also the farming and animal husbandry techniques used in the modern world, he couldn’t wait to implement his idea in Tibet for the benefit of his countrymen. Having discussed his ideas with the Dalai Lama who was supportive of his vision, he tried to convince the government to support his ideas but all his efforts were in vain. The traditionalists in the ruling class shot down his enthusiasm and overruled his ideas. A disappointed Gyalo Thondup saw his dreams die an unnatural death. He however implemented land reforms in his own estates across Tibet giving the peasants living on his estate right over the land they toiled on.

While he was in Tibet a country wide revolt broke out against the Chinese and the Chinese rulers of Tibet wanted to use force to quell this mass uprising. They started pressurizing Gyalo Thondup to side with them and support their depraved designs. In the meanwhile an order was received directly from Mao Zedong directing Gyalo Thondup to attend the Communist Youth Congress that was to be held in Beijing. Gyalo Thondup was to attend it as the head of the Tibetan delegation. Unable to directly deny an order from the Chinese supreme leader he escaped to India on the pretext of visiting his estates in southern Tibet.

Having returned to India he visited Darjeeling before proceeding to Kolkata where his wife delivered their second child, Khendoop. The Chinese rulers of Tibet on hearing of his escape naturally flew into a rage and giving vent to their anger, took away his citizenship.

Having made Kolkata his base, Gyalo Thondup started to write to various International agencies, head of governments and international organizations lobbying for international intervention in the Tibetan issue. He made several trips to various countries highlighting the plight of the Tibetans and internationalizing the issue of Tibetan independence. During one of his visits to Taiwan he also brought the Taiwanese and Indian intelligence agencies together so that they could work cohesively for their mutual benefits. Gyalo Thondup managed to create some amount of international interest to the ongoing crises in Tibet.

In the year 1956, the Dalai Lama managed to get permission from the Chinese for a visit to India. Officially the reason for Dalai Lama’s visit to India was the 2500th birth anniversary of Lord Buddha but the hidden agenda was to seek political asylum for the Dalai Lama and his government. The Chinese, getting wind of the actual reason, dispatched Zhou Enlai to prevent any such move and he managed to get the Indian government to go back on its commitment to shelter the Dalai Lama. On his way back to Tibet, the Chinese and Indian government even tried to prevent Dalai Lama and his entourage from visiting Kalimpong fearing that the Tibetan expats there along with agents from various international espionage agencies who had made Kalimpong their base, would prevent the Dalai Lama from reentering Tibet. The Dalai Lama swatting away these apprehensions of the Chinese visited and stayed in Kalimpong for a week before returning to Tibet.

The situation in Tibet further deteriorated in the next few years with the Chinese making unreasonable demands and the Tibetan public exploding in open revolt against the oppressive Chinese forces stationed in Tibet. In utter frustration over the repressive measures adopted by the Chinese against the unarmed Tibetan protesters Gyalo Thondup used his contacts in the CIA to help train a small number of young Tibetan fighters in the art of guerilla warfare. The first group of recruits was smuggled into Kalimpong and Gyalo Thondup used his own jeep to transport them to the Bangladesh border wherefrom they were transported to Saipan in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They were trained here by the CIA and later airdropped into Tibet so that they could lead an armed revolution there. In later years more than 250 other young recruits were further trained in Saipan and later in Camp Hale in Colorado. These trained guerilla fighters were smuggled back to Lhasa and later became the backbone of Chusai Gangdruk, the Tibetan Guerrilla army under the inspirational leader Gompo Tashi.

Finally in 1959, fearing for his life, the advisors of Dalai Lama planned for Dalai Lama, his family and his closest advisors, to escape into exile in India. Gyalo Thondup once again was instrumental in convincing the Indian Prime Minister Jawahar Lal Nehru into giving the Dalai Lama and entourage shelter in India. Gyalo Thondup travelled to Delhi after getting news of Dalai Lama’s flight from Lhasa and had a meeting with Nehru. Nehru consented to providing shelter to Dalai Lama and his group after this meeting with Gyalo Thondup.

Dalai Lama and his advisors had hoped that the Government of India would allow them to set up base in either Darjeeling or Kalimpong but the Government of India in its wisdom decided take them to Musssorrie. Later after a year they were shifted to Dharamshala where the Dalai Lama set up his Government in exile. Gyalo Thondup was appointed the Foreign Minister in the Government of exile.
Gyalo Thondup led several delegations to various American, European and Asian countries trying to advocate the need for them to intervene in the Tibetan crises. He even held meetings with International NGOs like the International Red Cross, CARE, Catholic Charities and Oxfam in his bid to internationalize the issue. For him no international forum or no country was taboo as long as they were willing to listen to the plight of the Tibetans. He even set up meetings and came to an understanding with the KGB, the Russian secret service. It was through them that he later learnt that the Americans and Chinese had already reached an understanding and that the Americans had decided to wash their hands off Tibet and the Tibetans were left to their fate.

After the Indo-China War in 1962 Gyalo Thondup was once again contacted by the Indian Intelligence and he helped the Indian Army set up a special armed force consisting of Tibetan fighters known as Establishment 22 which exists till date. On Gyalo Thondup’s appeal hundreds of young Tibetans, many of them trained guerrilla fighters, joined this force which was and is used by the Indian Army in high altitude operations.

Gyalo Thondup spent the next decade criss-crossing the globe talking to Governments, advocating the case of Tibet and pleading for their intervention but with the growing might of China in the international arena, all that the Tibetans received was a sympathetic hearing but no concrete results. He finally decided to give up all official designations having become mentally and physically exhausted with the high voltage life that he was constantly exposed to. Despite new persons taking up charge of Foreign affairs in the Tibetan Government in exile Gyalo Thondup was still called upon to negotiate whenever the situation turned tricky. The Chinese Government especially found the new team inept and Gyalo Thondup was requested to once again continue the negotiations which he did for the greater good of Tibet.

He even met Deng Ziaoping, the Chinese supreme leader after Mao Zedong, and despite several rounds of talk with him and other senior leaders no agreement could be reached on the return of Dalai Lama to Tibet.

Gyalo Thondup finally decided to hang up his political boots and settle down to a peaceful and less stressful life in Kalimpong in the 3 acre land which he had purchased here way back in the year 1952. The beautiful house just before St. Philomena’s School at 8th Mile Kalimpong was named Taktser House in memory of his birth place. The noodle factory that he has set up here, now take up much of his time whenever he is in Kalimpong.

Gyalo Thondup’s dream of seeing a Tibet independent of the Chinese may not materialize in this life time of his but there is no doubt that his contributions towards the struggle for Tibetan Independence will be remembered and spoken of in all times to come.

There is no doubt that he will remain one of the brightest shining jewel on Kalimpong’s crown.

The post Gyalo Thondup And His Place In Modern Tibetan History appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

The Hill society of Darjeeling is, at this moment, under this very situation. Silent killers are on the prowl in open view, devouring us up bit by bit, but we as a society are failing to recognize or take cognizance of this eminent danger.

Let me elaborate.

The Hills of Darjeeling have traditionally always has had its 4Ts – tea, tourism, timber & teaching to sustain itself economically. The lay of the land and the lack of natural minerals never allowed us to be a manufacturing or trading hub and through the ages the 4Ts have been the main stay of our economy.

The Tea industry, over the last 170 years, has been the major source of economical sustenance, for a large section of the Hill population in the sub divisions of Darjeeling, Kurseong and Mirik while Kalimpong till the middle of the last century depended on the business opportunities that its access to Tibet enabled it.
The sheer natural beauty and the magnificence of the weather has always been a special attraction for tourists from across the world and hence tourism has helped a large portion of the hill population enjoy financial stability.

The Timber industry has been a major revenue earner for the hills too- legally only for the Government agencies but in actuality illegal felling and selling of timber has sustained a small portion of the hill population.

The last of the 4Ts, though definitely not the least T, has been the Teaching industry. Ever since the first educational institute opened its gates in Darjeeling- the teaching industry has been the major and most consistent revenue earner for the Hills.

Without the revenue that these 4Ts generate, the Hills of Darjeeling would have found itself financially deranged a long time ago. With no other industry to fall back on, life in the Hills would be financially impossible if these sources of livelihood stop feeding the Hill economy.

These 4Ts directly sustain close to 35% of the population in the Hills with a smaller percentage relying on them indirectly. It would be doomsday if revenue from these 4Ts ever dry up. It would lead to a total collapse and decay of this otherwise presently vibrant community.

The very sad and grave fact is that the decay has already set in and we as the Hill society either are really unaware of this rot or are pretending not to be aware of it.

Here I quote Fulton J. Sheen again- – “It is a characteristic of any decaying society that the great masses of the people are unaware of the tragedy”.

Frankly, if we as the Hill society still do not wake up to it even now, financial Armageddon and unthinkable hardships awaits us in the very near future.

Let’s take a closer look into the 4Ts –

Timber is no longer under the control of the Hill population, the West Bengal Forest Department has absolute control over the revenue that our Timber generates. The rot is such that, forget getting a share of the revenue, even forests which were traditionally a part of the Hills now are managed and under the control of forest divisions of the plains of West Bengal.

We have grown up knowing that the lush green, densely wooded forest that stretches from Lingsay to Rongo (from the Sikkim border to the Bhutan boarder)are a part of the geographical district of Kalimpong. We had grown up reading in our geography books that the Neora Forest, famous for its Pandas and Himalayan Bears was Kalimpong’s pride. How many of us now know that like a silent thief, this entire stretch of forest has been robbed off Kalimpong and now under the Jalpaiguri Forest Division, despite the fact on paper it still is very much under the district of Kalimpong?

All this happened right under our noses without us even being aware of it- just like Fulton J. Sheen had said many many decades ago. The height is when You and Me from Kalimpong have to pay an “Entry Fee” to the Jalpaiguri Forest Division if we have to visit Kholakham, which in actuality is within the so called District of Kalimpong. If this isn’t a decay of our society, what is?

Let’s discuss the 2nd T- Tea
The less said about the Tea industry, the better. Generation after generations of our people have shed that sweat and blood slogging to keep the Tea industry alive. What for? For the meagre Rs. 200.00 they get per day for their blood and sweat? For literally having to beg for the measly “Bonus” of 20% that they are otherwise legally entitled to? For being forced to accept 5 decimals of land instead of their rightful claim over that portion of land which their father’s and grandfather’s had tilled and curated all their lives? For watching, as mute spectators, a new generation of profit hungry Tea Garden owner, earing millions while the houses of Tea Garden workers crumble down to the ground?

Now with the Chief Minister of West Bengal announcing that 30% of the Tea Garden land can be used for purposes other than tea, no further proof is required to realize that the Tea industry is in its last leg of decay. All, while we as the Hill Society, still behave we are unaware- just like Fulton J. Sheen had said many many decades ago.

The 3rd T now- the Tourism industry-

With almost all the major family owned hotels now in the hands of corporate hospitality brands, the revenue generated by tourism has concentrated in the bank accounts of these corporate houses, headquartered in the metropolitan cities, while the local population can at best hope to work in these deluxe hotels as waiters or gatekeepers or bell boys or parking assistants. Many, like one in Kalimpong, don’t even hire locals for these unskilled works, instead hiring Oriya or Bengali speaking youths even for menial works as these. All their supplies, whether it be grocery, housekeeping materials, stationery or office equipments or even vegetables are purchased from the Siliguri market while the trading class in the Hills dwindle their thumb. The contribution towards the Hill economy is close to nil.

The same goes for the homestays- with 70% of the homestays in the Hills on lease; tourism is no longer a major contributor to the ground-level economy of the Hills. The decay is there for all to see but we behave ignorant- just like Fulton J. Sheen had said many many decades ago.

This brings us to the last T- Teaching- and this is the focus of this article-

Teaching, or the education industry, has been the mainstay of the Hill economy for almost a century now. These temples of knowledge have also been those gates from which economic power has continuously flowed into the society at large. Unlike the first three Ts, the education industry has been a feeder to the economy month after month, year after year, without and disruption. Whether it be the dark days of the 1986 agitation or the 104 day strikes or the Covid pandemic, whether it is off season or whether it is a national emergency, this industry has never failed to discharge its financial commitment towards the society. Whether it be in the form of salaries to the thousands of teaching and non-teaching staff, whether it be fuelling the school transport business, whether it is supporting local businesses or whether keeping the kitchen fire going in the thousands of households which depend on the education industry for a livelihood.

Education has been the back-bone of our society ever since the pioneering missionaries introduced modern education in this region. The introduction of modern or western education in the India by the East India Company was initially more of a strategy to consolidate or soften its otherwise brutal rule. It was an effort to present a softer side hoping that the resistance to its rule would slow down. With this in mind, The Charter Act of 1813 was introduced and the missionaries, who had followed the East India Company into India, were given a freehand towards introducing western education across the country.

It was on this backdrop that Rev Start started a Moravian mission in Takvar on the outskirts of Darjeeling followed by a small school for the locals in the year 1841. Many more educational institutes were established over the year by various Missions but mainly by the Missionaries belonging to either the Scottish Mission or the Catholic Mission. Although the then British rulers had ulterior motives behind establishing modern education in India, the missionaries, to whom this responsibility was given, went about discharging their responsibility with the benevolence and compassion which only men of God can have. For these men of God, education the locals became a mission in life. For them, educating children was not just about academic training or imparting bookish knowledge but a mission to upgrade the entire aboriginal society. It was a mission to transform not just the mental and intellectual health of the society but also the up gradation of the economic status of community. The entire education industry was curated with much love and kindness towards the children and the society and they looked upon their efforts not with the tainted eyes of a businessman (which the East India Company was) but more as a service to the society.

In later years, after the country received independence, numerous individuals ventured into the education industry in the Hills of Darjeeling establishing schools which today have thousands of students. Fortunately, these individuals, though businessmen, did not allow profits to be the only motivation behind establishing the educational institutes. Their primary motivation remained the same as the pioneering missionaries- service to the society. This was how by the last few decades of the 20th Century, the education industry had come to become the major economic provider to a very large section of the Hill society.

While the other Ts were seasonal benefactors, the teaching industry was a yearlong provider of economic relief. Despite the hard days of the 1986 agitations of the 2008 agitations or the 104 days strike of 2017 or the Covid pandemic, where all other commercial enterprises came to a grinding halt- the education industry to serve the society- month after month, year after year. Their commitment towards the society remained unhindered.

These agitations and the pandemic took its toll on the education industry though- the gradual decline in admissions of outstation students coupled by the establishment of quality schools across the region, started to cause loss of revenue for many of these private as well as missionary schools in the Hills- yet they continued discharging their financial obligations towards the society, as best as they could.
The political disturbances as well as the Pandemic, had started the rot though- the decay had started- unnoticed and very subtly at first. The sad part again was that even before we as a society could realize the decay, the vultures had already dived in.

Remember what Fulton J. Sheen had said- “It is a characteristic of any decaying society that the great masses of the people are unaware of the tragedy”.

By vultures, I refer to the corporate houses which have started to dive in for the kill taking advantage of the uncertainty that many of the smaller private schools were facing. Playing on the vulnerability of smaller private schools in the Darjeeling region, a few corporate houses used aggressive business strategies in taking over several schools in the Darjeeling region. A foothold was all they required and now they are on the prowl- every private school in the region is under their lens now. I wouldn’t say that they are planning any hostile take overs but certainly they are using all their business skills in trying to entrap the others. Several schools in Darjeeling and Kurseong and two in Kalimpong have succumbed to the pressure, circumstances or financial benefits of the corporate proposals. More such schools are being approached through agents or middlemen, one himself a major player in the private school industry, on behalf of the corporates, and it won’t be long before several other schools take the bait.

While, in this time and age of corporatization, corporate houses taking over private schools shouldn’t be a matter of much debate but for the Hills of Darjeeling it is definitely a matter to be alarmed over. What happens to the economic responsibilities that the education industry has so far been shouldering? Will the corporate schools, who are basically motivated only by profits, continue carrying the economic responsibilities that the missionary or private schools in the Hills had been carrying? My guess would be in the negative. The fear is that these corporate schools will, in time, start hiring teachers from outside the Hills, they will use their own school buses, they will recruit out of station non-teaching/administrative staff, they will procure all their school supplies, including books, stationery and school dresses from central supplies based in the plains, they will take back the profits to their business headquarters leading to a capital flight from the Hills and once they have monopoly over the education, there is no doubt that tuition fees will be hiked beyond the budget of the average hill guardian.

With the first 3Ts already hijacked one can only hope and pray that the last one resists the planned conspiracy to subvert the entire Hill economy.

It isn’t too late- Now that we are aware we can still prove Fulton J. Sheen wrong..

The post FALL OF THE LAST T appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

Sukanta Majumdar, the President of the West Bengal Bharatiya Janata Party, isn’t in anyway a Greek lady nor is anyway related to the Gods (notwithstanding the claims of being a non-biological being by his ultimate Guru), but comparison can be made here with Pandora’s stupidity, when he suggests that North Bengal be attached to DoNER (Department of North East Region).

Yes, I know he clarified his stand saying that he did not mean a division of West Bengal but only the attachment of eight districts of North Bengal to DoNER for the purpose of availing the resources that DoNER would offer. The fact remains that many of his colleagues and others associated with the saffron brigade have time and again suggested that the eight districts of North Bengal, including The Hill districts of Darjeeling and Kalimpong, be carved out of West Bengal and made into a separate State or Union territory. Some years back, rumours also suggested that five districts of north Bengal, including Darjeeling and Kalimpong, along with two districts of Bihar and a district of Assam was to be created into a separate administrative unit by the name of Simanchal Pradesh. This suggestion as with the suggestion of a separate North Bengal has received support from fringe groups, both in the Hills as well as the plains.

While whether North Bengal be made into a separate state or UT is least of my concern, what worries me is that the Districts of Darjeeling and Kalimpong are being included in this idea of North Bengal. This suggestion has stupidity written all over it. Why would we want to get out of the fire and then dive into a frying pan? We would still burn.

The sole idea of having a separate state for the Hills of Darjeeling and Kalimpong is based on the fact that the population, culture, history, traditions, language and almost everything else is different from the rest of West Bengal. Our problems are different, our economy is different, our needs are different, our solutions are different, our mind-sets are different, our ways of life are different. We have always believed that we in the Hills are different to the rest of West Bengal in every possible way and hence we want to have the right to determine our own fate and future by having a separate state. Now these stupid suggestions of the Hills be clubbed with other districts to form a separate state or UT, is not just outright absurd but frankly even giving it a though is a disrespect to the hundreds of martyrs that the statehood agitations have created. What happens to the 117 year long demand of ours? Do those who are supporting this downright disgusting idea realize that none of our martyrs sacrificed their life for a settlement as idiotic as this?

Do the propagators of this bizarre idea realize that the population of Darjeeling and Kalimpong districts would still remain a small minority if clubbed together with six other districts of North Bengal where the population is distinctly different than ours? North Bengal has eight districts- Malda, Uttar Dinajpur, Dakhin Dinajpur, Darjeeling, Kalimpong, Jalpaiguri, Cooch Behar and Alipurduars out of which we are dominant only in two.

Let me place some figures which will illustrate why I feel the idea of a separate state of North Bengal which includes Darjeeling and Kalimpong, is illogical.

*The total population of the eight districts is 1,72,11,010 as per the 2011 census out of which the population of Darjeeling and Kalimpong districts (including Siliguri and Terai regions) is just 18,46,823. It means if a state of North Bengal is created and we are included in it, we will be just 10.73% of the population of this new state.

*The Total area of the eight districts is 26,282 sq km out of which the Darjeeling and Kalimpong districts occupy just 4193 sq km. This will be just 15.93% of the proposed new state.

*The total number of Assembly constituencies in the eight districts is currently 55 (Malda 12, Uttar Dinajpur 9, dakhin Dinajpur 6, Darjeeling 6, Kalimpong 1, Jalpaiguri 8, Cooch Behar 8 & Alipurduar 5). Darjeeling and Kalimpong Hills have just 3 (Darjeeling, Kurseong & Kalimpong). This means we will have just 5.45% of the Assembly constituencies in the proposed new state.

*The total number of Parliamentary constituencies in the eight districts is 9 out of which we have about ½ a seat. This translates to 5.55% of the Parliamentary constituencies in North Bengal.

Do you still feel the idea of a North Bengal state including Darjeeling and Kalimpong is a good one? Any guesses who will dominate all political spaces if a north Bengal state is created?

Well my job is to research and place the facts before my readers- the rest is up to you.

I just hope just stupid ideas do not waylay our future.

Let’s hope these small brained people do not open another pandora box

The post Pandora’s Box appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

Well, not all step mothers are evil and cruel as depicted in fairy tales- I had one and she was an angel so I am skeptical about using this term but for want of a better one I am forced to use it. But, yes, the fact is that the Darjeeling Hills have, more often than not, been left stranded with a begging bowl in hand, even as other much more affluent communities and geographical locations have walked away with the entire apple pie while we were left licking the backside of the bowl.

The all too familiar story has repeated itself once again in the National Budget that our Finance Minister just announced in Parliament a few days back. Forget the rest of the budget, which in any case, in my opinion is another kick in the face of the already crippled middle class in India, and let us just focus on the flood relief allotments that the respected FM has announced.

She announced a whopping Rs. 11,500 crores for flood control measures in Bihar while also allotting undisclosed amounts to Uttarakhand, Assam, Himachal Pradesh and Sikkim. While we have no reasons to envy the States which have benefited from the generosity of the Finance Minister we definitely have to feel aggrieved about not receiving a penny despite the total destruction and mayhem that our region experienced after the 4th October GLOF. While the GLOF that took place can be attributed to an ACT OF GOD (some may dispute this) what is happening now, definitely has negligence, callousness, insensitivity, discrimination, partisanship and maltreatment written all over it. It is as though, we who live in this part of the world are second grade citizens of this land.

I wonder why this discrimination??? Darjeeling has given the BJP representation in the Parliament several times over, we have given them MLAs in two of the three Hill seats, we have given them Panchayat seats in the last elections- what else do they need for them to realize that we too deserve some attention? Or have the powers that be, who decide policies in the central level, not been informed that scores of houses have been wash away in the last few months, the NH 10 has been closed for the last 26 days now, the river is flowing on the highway in several places, the Teesta bed has risen by almost 20 feet and that life as such for people living along the Teesta is one which has turned to hell.

Had the Central budget even allotted a small percentage of the amount that it allotted to Bihar (Rs. 11500 crores) we would have not felt we are Kanchi ama to choras.

Frankly at the moment we feel unwanted, uncared, neglected, ignored and abandoned.

No wonder we want a separate state for ourselves.

The post Kanchi Ama ko Chora appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

Kalimpong sits comfortably on the Himalayan Belt, one of the most earthquake prone areas in the world. As there hasn’t been a major earthquake exceeding M8 in the last fifty years, the town has grown and expanded, seemingly oblivious to the dangers lurking underneath the surface. How many buildings have been built without proper procedures against earthquakes, how many people furnish their houses according to taste rather than safety, and how have you planned for the worst possible scenario?

History

There has been many references made to earthquakes, ever since the time of enlightenment of Buddha c. 558 BC, but like many earthquakes since then, they have been short and undisruptive passages in semireligious texts. These earthquakes lack indefinable data, so they cannot be fully confirmed. It was only at the beginning of the last century that the quakes that shook the land have been studied and categorized. Four great earthquakes of magnitudes exceeding M8 have been witnessed in 1897, 1905, 1934 and in 1950 that caused great destruction. For example the great Bihar earthquake of 1934 on the Richter scale measured a staggering M 8. 4 and caused the death of approximately 11 000 people in the area. Another ten earthquakes exceeding M 7. 5 have occurred in the Himalayan Belt in the past 100 years. In 1988 Darjeeling and Gangtok were badly damaged when an M 6. 7 earthquake hit and 23 years earlier an M 5. 9 shattered the same cities. Even though Kalimpong has been saved in the past years from major destruction, research shows that activity is not only concentrated on these areas, but vary with every earthquake with high and low patches of activity.

The world’s greatest topographic features, the Himalaya and the Tibetan plateau were born as a result of continent – continent collision of the Indian and the Eurasia plates. This continuing northward collision of the Indian plate with respect to the Eurasian landmass causes the intense seismicity that is found in the area and most of the tension in the Himalayan region is concentrated along the shallow north dipping planes. This indicates, according to specialists in the field, the underthrusting of the Indian plate beneath the Eurasian plate. This movement caused by the collision between the two continent plates is known as Himalayan Frontal Thrust (HFT).

Even with the reasons of earthquakes in the area known to specialists and with records of previous earthquakes to study, the prediction of earthquakes is a very unpredictable business. Due to lack of extensive research in the area, there is an enormous strain on estimating more precisely the reoccurrence intervals for a great earthquake and even the best minds in the business cannot produce anything concrete. The best estimates by various workers for great earthquakes on the basis of slip rate and palaeoseismology suggest reoccurrence interval ranging from 180 to 500 years. With such broad estimates, the people living in earthquake prone areas should become more aware and prepared.

Earthquakes

An earthquake is a phenomenon that results from and is powered by the sudden release of energy. The energy released produces four different seismic waves simultaneously and can be felt on the ground. The waves responsible for the shaking are P-waves (primary waves) and S-waves (secondary waves or shear waves). The other two types of surface waves are called Love-waves and Raleigh-waves.  There are two classes of earthquake effects, described as direct and secondary effects. The direct effect is when the earth around the area where the earthquake happens is deformed, mostly through gaping cracks in the surface or sudden ground height alterations. But as many earthquakes never break the surface, the amount of damaged inflicted by direct effects is usually a disturbance to the eye, when viewing the damage rather than the in human life or the wallet.

A well-built house near the area of origin of the earthquake, called the seismogenic fault, can often escape major damage. Most of the damage inflicted by an earthquake is due to the secondary effects, which are not directly caused by fault movement, but which result from the spread of the seismic waves moving away from the seismogenic fault. These secondary effects are caused by the seismic waves moving through an area. When the seismic waves, mainly P-waves and S-waves, spread away from the seismogenic fault, they travel like ripples in a pond. The further you are from the centre of the earthquake, the weaker the waves become.

The secondary effects can cause seismic-shaking, landslides, liquefaction and can trigger aftershocks and new earthquakes. Seismic-shaking is the violent side-to-side shaking, which has the capability and power to topple and destroy houses. In the water-saturated and soft soil areas the shaking causes the sand grains to loose contact and friction with other grains. This phenomenon is called liquefaction and such ground has no strength and cannot bear any load. Landslides are commonly started when the soil layer on the side of a hill or a mountain liquefies during seismic shaking and flows down as a wall of mud. The power and destruction caused by these phenomenons depends on the strength of the tremor, the location and the depth in which it occurred.

Other factors that effect include; the distance away from the centre of the earthquake, the path the waves take, the types of soil the waves encounter and also the quality of the constructions it passes through. The time of day as well as the preparedness of the people can have a tremendous impact on the amount of destruction. If one should hit during the busiest time of day, while everyone is busy at work or out on the streets, the loss of human life is said to multiple.

The possible destruction of secondary waves

The powerful side-to-side shaking on construction caused by the seismic-shaking has a tendency to bend the right angles found in houses to other angles. This process is called shear, which sturdily built houses can withstand depending on the power and length of the violent shaking. Scientists found that triangular shapes are best suitable for withstanding the most shears, but unfortunately the Egyptian-style architecture has not become fashionable here in Kalimpong. Reinforced concrete that only has vertical steel rods, designed to withstand the weight of the structure when the weight is distributed evenly and straight down, does not hold up to powerful tremors of a long-lasting earthquake. Around the world in earthquake prone areas construction codes have been implemented to include much more steel that is wound around the vertical steel rods horizontally to keep the column from breaking apart during the violent side-to-side shaking. As more steel is required to build these stronger fortified concrete columns, it is much more expensive than columns with only vertical steel rods.

Another popular construction norm was to make a strengthened foundation for the construction and weaker steel rods on the upper levels, to keep the weight and the strain applied to the base at a minimum. This common practise proved to be fatal in strong tremors, as the upper levels did not withstand the pressure applied to them during an earthquake and crushed everything and everyone on the lower levels. The location of houses is as important as building a sturdy well thought-out house. In all earthquakes, the low-lying areas with soft, water-saturated soils experience by far the most damage. Building a house founded on water-saturated and soft soils will liquefy during a tremor causing houses to lean or topple totally.

Kalimpong

The Government of West Bengal has issued building codes that are monitored and implemented by the Municipal Office of Kalimpong. The rules state that the height of the buildings should not exceed 11. 5 m or four stories high. There are guidelines against building near the vicinity of jhoras. When planning to build a house here, one must follow protocol and present detailed plans to the Municipal Office, where the location and height of the future buildings must be described in detail. Once permission has been granted, the building process is monitored by the officials of the Municipal Office at regular intervals.

So accordingly, there should be no buildings built near jhoras, or exceeding 11. 5 m. But there are houses being built at this very moment, that exceeds the 11. 5 m height limit, on locations with heavy streams running through them weakening the foundations with every passing litre of water. These houses will fall like a house of cards, when or if a major earthquake strikes. One does not need extensive knowledge in building or a measuring device to notice that these sorts of houses are being built. Why are the rules being broken so shamelessly? One possible answer to this question could be that there is corruption among the links of command, which by any standards is nothing new or surprising. But there is another possible answer to this terrible question and that is that there is no-one who cares enough about the potential of building deathtraps, as the problem is out of sight, so then surely it is out of mind.

Darjeeling and Gangtok have suffered in the past from destruction due to earthquakes, they know what it is like to see the awesome power of Mother Nature at work, but Kalimpong so far has been spared the true horror of widespread destruction. Earthquake prevention, which should start from conscious citizens, to choosing the safest locations for housing and using the safest materials and abiding by the rules, is not by any means cheap. Everything costs money, lots and lots of money. So it is easier to turn the other cheek and pretend the problem is not there. When or if it happens, the powers at be can turn to the emergency plan and sort out the mess, accordingly and with the utmost professionalism. Except that Kalimpong does not have an emergency plan in the case of an earthquake.

Kalimpong is luckier than most towns, as there is the army barracks up on the hill and in case of an emergency like an earthquake, the army will spare no expense or effort to come to the aid of the people of Kalimpong. The army has been reliable and willing to help in the past, but what happens when the hill the barracks is situated on becomes one liquefied mass of mud, water, trees and equipment thundering down the mountain? They will be in as much need of assistance as everyone else. So to which organisation should the residents turn for help? The Red Cross? The United Nations?

Last year in October in the Kashmir region, the earthquake left in its wake a path of total destruction leaving nothing behind for the survivors to live on. The roads were washed away or blocked by landslides to prevent help from reaching the most badly effected areas until many days later. Even now, nearly a year later, the route is still difficult and the people are forced to live in tents even during the bitterly cold winter months and rebuilding has been painstakingly slow. Could that be the future of Kalimpong one day? Huddled in an old army tent in midwinter?

The future in our hands

What Kalimpong needs to do, is to address the lacking state of preparedness. This town has been lucky in the past, but one day that luck might run out, so the people should at least be prepared and have some idea what to do, where to go. Even if prevention is expensive and a long process to organise everything, it must be started. Houses should be built firmer and according to the regulations, or at least away from running water. But everything must start from the conscious citizen, to push for an emergency plan, to prepare oneself and one’s family by learning some basic recommendations on what to do when an earthquake does strike. That will perhaps spare a few more lives.

The post EARTHQUAKES – Are  we prepared ???? appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

Kalimpong has it’s own set of paranormal stories, writes Sandip C Jain

Every town worth its name has its own set of ghost stories. Kalimpong, considering its various past influences has several sets of it. Its Bhutanese, Colonial, Tibetan and Gorkhali influences have all left behind their ghost who haunt Ghost Story enthusiasts till this day. In fact this town even has Bihari spirits to add to the cosmopolitan flavor.

All names of persons and places have been changed to protect identity of all concerned and also so that the paranormal does not catch up to me and of course I do not vouch for the authenticity of any of the under-mentioned stories. They are just stories that do the rounds and I am just reproducing them in print hereunder.

So let’s start with the Bihari babu who, even in death, seems so desperate for his favourite dose of khaini (tobacco) that he is on the hunt for tobacco chewers along dark lonely pathways in the outskirts of the town.

This is the story of my friend, lets name him John- we have been friends for a long time, picked many of our vices together and at one time were crazy over the same girl. It another horror story that a third friend of ours is now making her go crazy having been married to her for the last 19 years.

John was a resident of a small hamlet on the way to Teesta. Being superbly talented in the art of playing a guitar he was one of those in school whom ordinary souls like me were perpetually in envy of. We had a common friend; we will name him, Dawa, who used to live at Dungra busty. Today, thanks to the massive road construction projects under taken by the local as well as state governments, a fully pitched road runs right across his doorstep but in those days one had to trek a kilometer from the nearest road head through a narrow meandering and slippery footpath across paddy fields and bamboo grooves. This deserted footpath (we call it chor batto in Nepali) was spooky even during the day time so you can imagine what it was after dark. Even residents of the area avoided traversing this path after dark.

But John, being the man he was, drove his father’s Vespa scooter each day in the evening to the road head and walked the one kilometer to Dawa’s house where the two had a daily music jamming session despite everyone warning him about a Bihari Ghost that was supposed to lurk around the area. Mo affai bhoot ho (I myself am a ghost) was what he always retorted. So one day early in November he was returning back to his scooty at about 10.45 at night. It was an arduous 15 minute trek from Dawa’s house to the spot where he usually parked his two-wheeler. Lobouring up the unpaved pathway he suddenly realized someone was approaching from the opposite direction going downhill. He appeared to be an old Bihari person with very dirty crumpled dhoti-kurta and his expressions were blank as an empty sheet of paper. It was at this moment that the stories of the Bihari ghost came flooding back into his mind. The old man had a weird expressionless look and he stopped right in front of the by now utterly shaken John. Again with the same blank look in his face the old men utterd just one word- “Khaini”, in a manner that my friend understood as a demand/request for tobacco. Being a khaini chewer himself John fumbled out his packet of khaini with trembling hands and a pounding heart, gave the person some and the wrinkled old man almost glided past my trembling friend without uttering a single word. With his heart in his mouth John scrambled from the scene as fast as his 5 foot 3 inches could carry him. Having covered about 250 meters uphill in a matter of seconds he entered a bamboo groove. The path through it was just wide enough for one person to pass through at a time- the wall of a terraced field on one side and a cluster of bamboos on the other. As he hurried through it he heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction again and he heaved a sigh of relief thinking locals were on their way back home and at the relief of meeting another human being. He was wrong, it was the same dirty, crumpled dressed, wrinkled old man with the stoned expression and the same scene repeated itself, like a bad dream- only that it was real. In a replay of the earlier incident that took minutes ago, the same demand was made for khaini and this time with an even more fumbly hand John dug out his packet of khaini doled it out, half of it falling on the ground and the whoever or whatever that had accosted him simply faded downhill in an action replay of the earlier episode. John’s state was beyond words. His mouth dried up, his urge to relieve himself grew immense, he could literally feel his heart in his mouth and could hear his heart pound as loud as a drum. Hardly able to breathe he started sprinting up the path knowing there was a small house besides the road a hundred meters ahead. Gasping for breath he reached the house which had a small electric bulb illuminating the front of this wooded single story cottage. John almost doubled up just outside the bamboo gate of the house gasping for breath. His head was spinning and his body covered in cold sweat yet he had some relief on being next to a house where humans were residing. He suddenly got a sensation of someone looking down on his crouching figure as he was desperately making efforts to catch his breath. He looked up- screamed and blacked out. It was the same old man asking him for khaini again.

The family residing in the small farming house rushed out on hearing his scream to find an unconscious John flat on his face.  Recognizing him to be a friend of Dawa, they first though he was either drunk or drugged but when they found him clear of any alcoholic smell  they assumed he was epileptic and even used the old smelly sock treatment. Finally Dawa arrived and shifted the unconscious John to a hospital where he came about to his senses only after another two days. It was then that this story was known.

Now, John resides in Dubai and works in the airline industry but he still has goose bumps whenever this episode of his life is recalled. The only positive thing for John from this hair rising incident was the fact that he quit his addiction for khaini.

Talking of addiction reminds me of another story- this of one in which the protagonist is someone who loved his daily quota of half a bottle of brandy at a popular restaurant in Kalimpong. Lets name him Cowboy for he loved to wear cowboy hats wherever he went.

Cowboy had this tough guy image around him. Shopkeepers feared him; the police was fed up of him; yet he was a man with a good heart and when sober was a man who would talk intelligently. His dressing was consistent to the fashion of those times. The flashy hippy looks of the 1960s.

His day in town started at about 6.00 PM every evening, he swaggered down into town in his cowboy hat from his house which was below the SUMI school. If in a foul mood, some unfortunate person would get a slap or two for no reason or for no fault of his own. His presence filled the restaurant the moment he entered it and even regulars at the restaurant fell into a hushed silence for fear of rubbing Cowboy in the wrong way. In typical fashion he drank his first two or three drinks alone in the corner table which was always kept empty for him in the evenings. With the liquor warming him up and easing up his tensed self he became the star at the drinking hole. He regaled all in the restaurant with his funny stories and quick wit. After the sixth or seventh drink of the evening the restaurant owner, his friend for a long time, started to coax him to leave but he was ready to leave only after a few more rounds. Bidding good night to the staff of the restaurant he started up the K D Pradhan road which led to his house. It was generally close to mid night every day that he reached home. The route he took daily was up the K D Pradhan road, through the Mission Compound ground, up a flight of steps besides the Christian graveyard, rejoin the K.D.Pradhan road next to the mortuary and then home which was further up the road.

On this particular day, Cowboy who had a nagging headache since the morning, had had a few drinks lesser than what he normally partook. He was more in control of himself on this day then he generally was as he walked up the K D Pradhan road and across the Mission Compound Ground. It was nearing midnight and he could feel the chill of the February breeze. As he approached the pathway/steps which bordered the graveyard he somehow felt uneasy in a way he could not comprehend. Things just did not seem quite as usual. To his left hand was the ground a few feet below him and on his right was the cemetery. As he climbed the unpaved path he suddenly stopped dead on his track. He was dumbstruck with surprise. He could not comprehend whether his eyes were playing games or he was drunk or whether his advancing age had made him miss something which had happened right under his nose in the area where he was considered the boss. He was astonish by the sight of a beautiful cottage which stood on his right hand. Cowboy wondered how he had missed seeing this cottage on all the days he walked this route. As he stepped closer for an inspection the doors of the cottage opened and out came two beautiful young women. Now his ego was hurt too. He fancied himself as a ladies’ man and he was somewhat annoyed with himself for having never seen these two lovely women that too in his own domain. The women looked enchanting, one was wearing a beautiful white dress the other a flowing gown. They looked captivating, he was spellbound. The women looked straight at him and in their smile he was mesmerized. They walked a few steps closer to him and asked him “etti rati kaha janu bhako” ( where are you going so late at night) to which he tried to find a reply. Before he could say anything the second lady invited him in and there he was following the two beauties like a lamb. Once inside they closed the door and invited him to stay over which he gladly accepted. They led him to a bed and he undressed in haste flinging his cloths one by one, the cloths landing in all directions. Whatever may have happened that night happened and then he went off to a blissful sleep. The next morning arrived. The February morning was a bright and sunny one and half in sleep he heard people talk around him. He smiled as he awoke thinking of the lovely ladies in who’s home he was. He opened his eyes and as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight- he screamed.

He was sleeping in the center of the cemetery, in his birth suit, with his cloths flung all across the numerous tombstones.

Cowboy lost it that very moment. It is said he lost his mental balance there and then and within the next three months his life had a sad and abrupt ending.

This next paranormal story isn’t sad or has an abrupt ending. This is an ongoing story as I write these lines,

I have this very close friend who is considered one of the biggest names in the sports scene in the region. His elder brother, let us call him Tarzan. I select this name for him because of the fact that he really is the type of person who comes close to what the reel life Tarzan was. Our Tarzan was a professional working in the logging industry in a certain South East Asian country and came back to Kalimpong with a bulging pocket. His dream is to establish a jungle camp where he can train the next generation in the art of being close to nature as well as to give adventure seekers the outdoor thrill they seek. For this purpose he procured a large tract of land in a location which is on the very fringe of the Kalimpong geographical district. To reach it one has to drive for an hour and a half then trek through dense forests for an hour to reach the jungle resort he is in the process of setting up.

The resort he is making is so remote in its location that one needs to trek for 20 minutes to reach his immediate neighbor. Having started the construction of his resort about six months prior to the Covid 19 outbreak, all construction activities had to be put on hold due to the subsequent lockdown. With the abrupt closure of all work in the construction site he was left with expensive construction materials strewn across his property. With all his workers back home he was left stranded holding fort all by himself. As a temporary lodging for himself he had a small two room cottage constructed on the edge of his property where he used to stay all by himself in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. He enjoyed this lifestyle- all alone in the forests he so loves. His only company were the foxes that howled all night, the snakes that slithered in and out of his cottage, the monitor lizards that no longer were shy of him and of course the constant sound of water in the river flowing a stone throw away. This was the life he believed was perfect for him. He was in bliss and so satisfied with his lifestyle that he cared a hoot about what the locals said about the place being haunted. Of course he was aware something was not right from the very first day he started to stay in the cottage with weird sounds and activities occurring time and again. Being the man he was, and is, he wasn’t too bothered about it. He was used to a lonely and solitary life. This was the lifestyle he chose and loved. It was after all his workers left due to the lockdown and he started to reside alone in the vast estate that  things started to get weird. He would get up at night with sounds of footstep outside his room or he would get this acute feeling of someone looking down on him as he slept or of things being thrown about in the middle of the night. He took all of these in his stride.

Then things started getting more personal. One night he went off to the river after dark, tried to catch some fish and washed himself by the river and sat on a stone platform smoking his favourite Sikhar cigarette humming a popular Nepali song.  Tired and sleepy he started back looking forward to a good night’s sleep. As he stood up from where he had perched himself he clearly heard someone else sanding up from another boulder just across himself. He jerked his head towards the stone wherefrom the sound had come but there was nothing or no one there. Thinking it could be his imagination he retracted his steps towards his small cottage just about a hundred feet from where he was. Having taken a dozen steps he again distinctly heard someone coming out of the water and following him. He jerked around again and there was nothing but darkness all around. No footsteps too. By now he knew there was someone or something there. Tightening his grip over his mobile phone which also served as his emergency torchlight he quickened his steps, all the while hearing very distinctly footsteps, about six to eight steps behind him- quickening or slowing as per his own pace. Three quarters of the way to his room Tarzan abruptly turned around drew out the box of match sticks that he was carrying, lit a stick and flung it across, like a fire arrow, towards the direction of the footstep following him. The footsteps ceased thereafter as he walked into his room and prepared to sleep. He lay down in bed, tried logging on to the YouTube to see some videos but unable to connect, he prepared for bed. Saying his bedtime prayers, Tarzan slipped into a deep sleep which his tired body was demanding.

The nights in his resort, being in a bowl shaped valley surrounded by thick forests, was unusually dark even on moonlight nights- this night moreover was a no moon day- the only light was that could be seen in his room was the small red colour indicator emitting from his battery powered mobile charger. Tarzan suddenly got up with a start. He left something behind him on his bed, his first thought was that there may be a monitor lizard in the room but he discounted this possibility. He was suddenly scared and his breath seems to be stuck right in his chest. He could feel beards of cold sweat flowing down his chest and neck and his mind was racing as fast as his heart beat. Lying motionless trying to catch any sound that may indicate any thing he suddenly felt someone or something snuggling up behind his back as if trying to draw heat from his body. He could distinctly feel something or someone, or whatever it was, cozying up behind him like a loved one would do if sleeping under the same blanket. Every sense in his body was at its edge, alert and hyper sensitive. His heart pounded like never before and to distance himself from whoever or whatever was cuddling up against him, he moved his body a few inches towards his side of the bed. Seconds seemed like days. And then he could feel the frame behind close the distance between them and the warm feeling of someone spooning him made him freeze like a rock. Tarzan lay frozen in fear thinking of all the Gods he could think of, saying all the prayers he knew and finally when he couldn’t take it any further, he sprang out of bed and started showering the choicest abuses in a volume he never knew he possessed. He somehow managed to reach the bed switch and switched it on only to find nothing or no one besides him in bed- but he could very clearly make out that the he wasn’t the only person sleeping on the bed. The other side of the bed was equally crumpled and slept on as his side was.

With his heart still racing he continued with his abuses and withdrew himself from the room, went out on the porch and lit himself a cigarette where he sat all night praying till morning broke.

This isn’t the end of this story- rather the beginning. The uninvited bed partner of Tarzan started making unannounced visits to his bed, snuggling up and warming up to his body- not on all days but intermittently- maybe twice or thrice a month. Tarzan could now somehow feel it from within, even before he entered bed, that this night he will have a bed partner. He was getting used to this ghostly affection but his family would have none of it. After prolonged prayer sessions, rituals and religious ceremonies Tarzan now sleeps in peace and without any supernatural company at night.

Tarzan is made of a different stuff though- the last time I met him and discussed this story with him, he confided in me saying- I miss the warmth and the company…

Kalimpong has many more such paranormal stories and which I have researched but telling them all here would entail more pages than this book can afford, hence I conclude with one last story-

This story is of a spot which is within the town limits. A group of boys believed that a Jhinn (supernatural being as per Islamic belief) dwelled in the area just opposite where a popular school now stands and exactly at the spot where now the office of an emergency service is located. The boys, in their early 20s swore that on particular nights the Jhinn, all in white, trekked about a hundred meters down the lonely patch of the road, entered a small forested area and disappeared. Over time the legend of the Jhinn grew- some said that the Jhinn made a return journey roughly half an hour after he entered the forest, some said he walked bent as he entered the forest while he was erect on his return journey, some said he carried what looked like a thigh bone while others swore his face was black as coal. The myth around him grew and grew till people started to believe that the Jhinn could grant any wish any person daring enough to ask him. 

A young man from the locality had been hearing about these stories from the time he came back home from Chennai, where he worked as a waiter in a star category hotel. Being out of work and a family to support he was willing to do anything for additional funds to support his family. Hearing of the Jhinn and his powers to grant any wish anyone would ask him, Javed (that’s what I have named him) decided to wait for the Jhinn, meet him and ask it to grant a considerable amount of funds. His wait on the first three nights went in vain. On the fourth night, scared yet with the hope in his heart he waited hiding himself inside his old Maruti Van, which he had parked strategically. At just about 2.45 AM, suddenly he saw a figure emerge round a bend about fifty meters ahead of him. Clad in full white the figure seemed to be carrying a long bottle like object in his hand, the thigh bone story immediately sprang into Javed’s mind. His heart pounded like it would explode and as his mind went into a tizzy yet Javed leapt out of his hiding spot and attempted to follow the Jhinn. The shadowy figure suddenly jerked around and looked at Javed in an odd expression then continued down the road before entering the forested patch, just like the stories he had heard. Javed was close to faint out of fear yet his resolve to get the Jhinn to grant him his wish was so strong that he followed the eerie figure right into the forest. As he entered the forest he could hear the rustle of dead leaves and the sound of twigs snapping a few feet away. Sweating like a pig and breathing like a exhausted dog Markus took a few more steps and there hunched before him was the creepy white figure. As their eyes met, it appeared to Javed that the Jhinn was equally startled by this encounter as he was. Javed immediately dropped down to his knees in a praying position, closed his eyes, folded his hands and started blabbering off his request for his wish to be granted. Still in his kneeling position, Javed felt he could smell the Jhinn clearly and it smelt foul, yet he continued.

He suddenly heard a very thickly accented voice trying to shoo him away and telling him to meet him the next day. Markus was not the type to give up easily. He persisted harder and harder desperate in his effort to extract the granting of his wish. He suddenly left himself being pushed backwards and before he knew anything else he was flat on his back. Trying to overcome his fear and to comprehend what was going on Javed opened his eye to see the white clad figure looming all over him. He had crossed the limits of him courage by now. In abject fear he screamed the loudest he could and was close to passing out. It was then he felt he heard the figure calling out his name and pleading with him to stop screaming. Javed opened his eyes to recognize the familiar figure of Narayan Bhiya, the corner grocery shop owner.

It was then that Javed realized and understood the entire situation- there was no Jhinn or any paranormal angle to the entire episode. Apparently it was Narayan Bhiya just using the lonely spot in the small wooded area to perform his early morning bladder cleaning exercise, the toilet at his residence being in operational due to a blocked sewage line.

The moral of the story- not every ghost story has a terrifying ending- some like the above have a hilarious or even a smelly conclusion.

The post KALIMPONG AND ITS PARANORMAL STORIES appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.

In the good old days, a “love letter” could make or break a relationship. Here’s Sandip C Jain with a beautiful walk down the memory lane

Many have asked me over the years as to how I got initiated into writing. Yes, I received education in one of the finest English medium schools in the region, St. Augustine’s School which had some of the most wonderful teachers. The lessons in English that Mr. A.T.Dasgupta, Father Felix and others, of course gave me a foundation but I must acknowledge that I had two very unlikely gurus who made me fall in love, head over heels, with writing.

My first guru of course was my classmate, desk-mate and khaini-mate- the indomitable curly haired Mr. Gupta(no first name please). He looked like a miniature version of Gabbar Singh, complete with dark complexion, curly hair and tobacco filled lower lips. But then rather than being armed with guns he always carried along something more powerful-Books. It was he who initiated me into reading- by the time I finished Class 10 I had completed reading the entire collect of books by writers like Sidney Sheldon, Jeffery Archer, Jack Higgins, Ken Follett, Robert Ludlum and of course James Hadley Chase. I cannot forget to credit Commando or Tintin or Archie and Asterix comics for broadening my English vocabulary. Of course in later years my reading appetite increased to such an extreme level that my wife often now refers to herself as my second wife- she says my first wife are my books. But then it is my second guru which is actually the subject of this article.

My second guru is the one which actually got me hooked to writing and she is named, LOVE LETTERS!! Yes, writing love letters in school initiated me into writing and made me realize the powers of a well constructed sentence. I realized it could make or break many a dreams or lives. Several months of romance could be finished off in a flash with one poorly constructed love letter or many days of cat and mouse games could end up in a romantic liaison with the help of a flowery love letter.

Writing love letter was an art form in those pre Facebook and Whatsapp days. Those who excelled in this art generally walked away with the trophy, to the envy of his competitors. There were some acknowledged experts in every school who excelled in this fine art. Their services were much in demand and the better ones almost had celebrity status amongst all budding Romeos in School. I was one of them in St. Augustine’s School during my senior school days.

Of courses, I would have preferred to be the Romeo myself rather than be the “letter writer” for the other Romeos but then with a face like mine and with the skeleton like body frame I possessed during those days, I had absolutely no hope of winning over anyone of the female gender. I had some wonderful nick names- kath kira, sidra, murkhutta and lamkhuttay- definitely not very heroic names which would win over any St. Joseph’s Convent girl. Who would wanted to be known as Kathkira ko girlfriend after all.

Like I said, writing love letters was a fine art form- many things had to be considered. It had to be considered if the girl would hand over the letter to her school Principal or not; it had to be considered if she already had a boyfriend. Whether she had a tough looking brother had to be found out and it also had to be ascertained who were her friends. Finding out about her friends was most important so as to be sure that the person sending the love letter hadn’t previously sent her friend a similar proposal. Whether the girl had long hair or short hair and whether she was tall or short had to be noted so that adequate words could be found to praise her attributes.

I cannot take names, you may call it professional ethics, but when I look back at some of the love letters I wrote then, I still choke with laugher. I recall a few; one was for a girl from St. Joseph’s Convent by a classmate of mine. After three days of momos and alu-chops and chini-pops, which I received as bribe to write that letter, I wrote a letter which included the line, “I have a disease and it’s only cure is you”. It was carefully copied down by the Romeo in his own handwriting and dispatched through a Postman, not before spraying the letter paper with Old Spice perfume stolen from his father’s bathroom cabinet- the postman was always a junior student who had to be pampered and protected. After several days of restlessness and sleeplessness came the reply. I still remember a fattish envelope being delivered to him. He opened it as quickly as he could and out came his original letter, torn to a hundred pieces, and it was accompanied by a chit which read “MADNESS IS A DISEASE CURED IN MENTAL ASYLUMS, NOT BY LOVE”…

The tail piece is that the two now have been married for 21 years and the sum total of his disease and the medicine she administered has produced three little cures…

The other very funny episode in this chapter of my life is one in which another Mr. Gupta was involved. Every one knew him as Amit. Amit as in Amitabh Bachchan, complete with white shoes and all. He took a fancy to a very pretty Condy (St. Jospeh’s convent girl for the uninitiated).

From an Army background, pretty as an angel and very talented, she was the lead actress in the Annual School Concert which we attended. So infatuated was he by her that he decided to pour out all his feelings for her in a love letter. He didn’t ask me to write. Insecurity?? God knows but then after a week of his letter being delivered our English teacher as well as the School Principal, Father Felix came to class with an envelope.

The envelope contained a letter which seemed to have been written in red ink. On closer inspection it was a letter written in blue ink but edited in red.

The girl after having received the letter handed it over to her school Principal who forwarded it to Father Felix after having edited the horrible piece of love confession.

Of course Father Felix was furious, not because he had started the letter saying “Me Amitabh you Minakshi”, not because he had actually dared to write the letter but because of the murder of the beautiful language of English that he had committed.

I still remember Father Felix, one if the most wonderful person I have ever known, saying ” I don’t mind you idiots writing love letters, it’s your age to write them, but please don’t murder English so brutally.”

Needless to say, the letter was pinned to the School notice board, under the caption, HOW NOT TO WRITE A LOVE LETTER”

The post IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF LOVE LETTERS appeared first on The Darjeeling Chronicle.