2. Brother & Sisters

As I have already stated, four of my brothers and sisters died in their early childhood. Amongst those dead were our eldest sister Sefali, a brother next to her Mrinal Kanti, a brother younger to my surviving elder brother, named Sisir, and a  sister above me, Nivedita. When I was old enough to understand things, I had my only brother Krishna Kanta Das nicknamed Kanta, and sisters Bakul alias Khati and Chameli alias Bata around. Both these sisters were older than my elder brother, Chameli being the eldest amongst us. They had been married much before we had migrated. I was the eighth child of my parents and the youngest.

 My father's elder brother Barada Charan Das was a widower and did not leave behind any descendant. I have no knowledge about the families or descendants of my father's younger brother or of his only sister.

Below is our family tree excluding four of my brothers and sisters, who died at a very young age. I had to keep them out of the tree due to space constraints and as they had nothing more than their names to add to the tree. I have described their relative position in the family in the opening paragraph here. I have included my only grandson in the tree as a member of the extended family. Unfortunately, I don't have the information to go further up on the tree. 

My eldest brother-in-law was Narendra Nath Roy, and the next one was Rajani Mohan Roy. Both were from affluent landed class from rural areas of Sylhet Division, the names of their villages being Gobindganj (now a town) and Ponatirtha respectively. When we migrated after partition, they stayed back as they were not ready to shift leaving their property behind. There was also the question of finding a suitable job to support the family on this side of the border. Neither of them had the education, training, or orientation for any gainful employment. None of my sisters or brothers-in-law had gone beyond the school level education. In spite of their attachment to their respective places, neither of them could, however, ultimately stay at his native place due to the communal disturbances frequenting their homeland.

Both of my sisters on migrating to India had to fight a prolonged fight with poverty. Both had reached India empty-handed.

After settling at Fulertal, my elder sister's husband (younger brother-in-law) procured a job as a sales representative in a hair oil company named Abhoya Chemicals..  This helped them to keep their body and soul together for some time. Later, he along with his family shifted to Jorhat where we had been living. My brother-in-law worked as a sales representative in different companies when such jobs were available.  The family had to face acute poverty from time to time when my brother-in-law did not have any regular job or income. At that time my parents tried to help them to the extent possible. My brother-in-law tried various jobs. He had also learnt the work of a printing press from my father and did in fact, work in a press towards the later part of his life after we had left Jorhat. This family, however, came out of this difficult situation after my sister's son grew up and could establish himself in business. 

My sister had two daughters and a son. All of them were now married with children and well-settled. Her grandson from her son's side, unfortunately, died of cancer in his teens. Her son Ranju is now left with a daughter whom he married off in July 2017.  My sister's elder daughter Sabita has a son and a daughter both of whom got married recently (as of 2017). Her younger daughter Namita too has a son, a daughter, and a grandson from each. 

My brother-in-law died on January 23, 2011. My sister had continued to stay with her son at Mariani, Assam, and breathed her last there on June 6, 2018, at the age of around 86. The probable cause of death was a massive heart attack. This sister of mine and her husband had been extremely fortunate in having a son and daughters like the ones they had. These daughters and the son were totally devoted to their parents. My sister and brother-in-law had been ailing for years, but could never complain of neglect, lack of treatment, or care. Their son with occasional physical help from his sisters did everything possible to reduce their sufferings and ensure proper treatment. I would do injustice if I don't mention their daughter-in-law Moni who took special care of them while smilingly doing her household jobs.

My brother-in-law was very committed to his family. My sister had suffered from very serious kinds of diseases on different occasions when they were in acute poverty. My brother-in-law left no stone unturned to get her proper treatment. He even begged the hospital authorities for her pro bono admission. On one of those occasions when my sister was almost dying, my brother-in-law could get her treated pro bono at Jorhat Mission Hospital by the benevolence of hospital authorities..  It was solely due to him she could survive on that occasions. My brother-in-law had great respect for my parents. He loved us, too.

My eldest sister lived in abject poverty all through her life since coming over to India and died a miserable death without even proper treatment. She had a prosperous household in her own place and was not to live such a wretched life or die in this manner but for the partition. I had heard from my mother that when my sister and brother-in-law came to visit us in the pre-partition days, they used to bring along a boatload of cereals, vegetables, and fruits with them. These same people, after coming over to India, had been finding it extremely difficult to secure even two square meals a day. At times, they had to go without food. We could not help them as they lived far away from us. Occasionally, when we visited them, we used to take along something or other, even going beyond our means. At some point in time, when they lived near us, we tried to help them more frequently out of whatever little we had. They died without treatment and failed to give education to their children. The sufferings they had undergone got carried over to their children and some of them, too, died prematurely. 

My eldest sister had died at her place in Lakshipur. I had visited her for the last time a few days before that and had found her in a deplorable state. That scene still haunts me.

My sister left behind three sons and two daughters. Both these daughters are married, the elder one with two sons and a daughter. Of my sister's three sons, Nandalal, Nantu, and Nikhil, all married, the eldest Nandalal, died in 2010, and the next after him had died much earlier, leaving behind his widow, a son, and three daughters, the daughters having all been married by now. Only the youngest Nikhil is now alive and lives with his second wife and a son from the first. He is now employed as a Grade IV staff with Central Water Works Department in Mizoram. None of these sons and daughters of my eldest sister could complete even the school-level education. 

Independence turned out to be a bane for those who fell victims to the partition. As a direct fallout of the partition, hundreds of thousands of Hindus lost their lives and honour. Of those who survived and migrated later, many became paupers on migration. But for my father's tenacity and ruggedness and our will force, we too would have met the same fate.

I was more attached to my elder sister Fuldi than the eldest Didibabu. Maybe this was due to the former living closer to us.

Again, I had lost total contact with my eldest sister, Chameli, whom I used to call Didibabu,  and her family after leaving Assam first for pursuing my studies and then for service. I visited them occasionally when I would be in Silchar; such visits, however, were sparse. As already said,  I had visited my eldest sister for the last time a few days before her death maybe in the early 1970s. Long after this, when I visited Assam in 2007, I made it a point to contact my eldest sister's children and refurbish my relationship with them.  I did accordingly and had my association re-established with them. It needed much effort to locate my sister's eldest daughter Sulekha whom I had not seen since the early sixties and had no contact with her. Sulekha at that time lived in Silchar with her husband and children but had no contact with any one of us including my elder brother who himself was a resident of Silchar. They have, however, since shifted to Guwahati. Unfortunately, I could not find my other niece Manju from the eldest sister, in spite of my best efforts. Both Sulekha and Manju had been very close to me. Both of them had stayed with us some time or other in their younger days.

[I am, however, happy to say that at long last, on the 21st of May 2020, I could contact my niece Manju over the phone, the number of which I had obtained after persistent efforts. She was now a widow, had a daughter and three sons, of whom the eldest was dead. The elder of the living sons and the daughter were married.  My niece lived with her sons near Dimapur Railway station at a place called D colony. After I could contact her, I had asked for a photograph of her, which she had sent. I was startled looking at the photograph; it was a skeleton of what she had been. Extreme poverty and suffering have made her so. She was the most beautiful child of her mother; fair and good-looking.  I failed to match the photograph with what she had been in the past by any stretch of my imagination.  I wish I had a photo of her older days to compare with her present self.  Though upset, I have kept her in the gallery below to make it known that however wretched she may look, she, too, is one of us. (Inserted on May 22, 2020)]

These days when I live in affluence, I am often taken back to those long past days bringing before me the scene of the extreme poverty in which my eldest sister was living. I can still feel the pathos and helplessness I saw in her eyes whenever I visited her in those days. It cuts me to the quick. It saddens me more and makes me sullen as I could not do anything when my sister fought alone in that battle for survival.   

I, however, had regular contact with my other elder sister Bakul whom I called 'Fuldi' and her family. All her children viz., son Ranju, and daughters Sabita and Namita were, so to say, born before my eyes and were much attached to me as they still are. My sister and her husband had shifted from  Fulertal,  the first place of their post-migration settlement to Jorhat, where we had been staying at that time. Her children were not born when they had first arrived at Jorhat. Later, when my parents relocated to Silchar to stay with my elder brother they continued to live in Jorhat. After my father had died, my mother used to go to stay with my elder sister at Jorhat at times. On such occasions, I visited them while I was to take my mother to my workplace. Even otherwise, I visited them on some of their family occasions like my niece’s marriage. Even now I visit them (my elder sister's children and their families} whenever I happen to be in Assam. Last time (as of September 2024}, I visited them in December 2023 when I went on a visit to Assam in the cycle, Silchar-Karimganj-Guwahati-Jorhat. I had a mind to visit my eldest sister's children and families too, at that time. But because the surviving son of my sister, with whom I had made a plan to visit them much earlier, failed to show up due to his subsequently fixed engagement elsewhere, it did not happen.

 I recall here, an interesting episode on corruption in the Railways in those days. It was in July 1969. I was posted as Deputy Magistrate & Deputy Collector in Mekliganj, Cooch Behar. I and some of our relations were to proceed to Allahabad to attend the marriage ceremony of my elder brother. My brother had asked me to arrange for  Railway tickets for all of us from Howrah to Allahabad to attend his marriage. For this purpose, I had come to Calcutta a couple of days ahead of our programme at Allahabad. Computers were not there in those days and the sale of tickets with reservation for upper classes used to be done manually at the station counters. There were three classes on the trains in those days; the first class, the second/Inter class and the third class. I could easily get the required number of tickets by the 2nd class along with reservations from the Howrah Station counter. But, after issuing the tickets, the counter clerk and the supervisor demanded some extra money for the work they had done; I refused to accede to their demand. I told them it was their duty, and they had not done me any favour. When they pestered, I revealed my identity and told them that I was a Magistrate and would see that they were booked under the Anti-corruption Act. The moment they came to know of my identity their demeanour completely changed. They became shaky, apologetic, and begged to be excused. People still had the fear of the law. I left the matter at that and did not proceed further.  Such petty corruption has ended or at least been reduced to a minuscule with the introduction of computers and online booking of tickets. But a much larger scale of corruption termed as “scams” involving big fishes and huge money has since become endemic at the higher echelons of the Society in almost every sphere. The country has become a haven for corrupt people.

During my visit to Assam in 2007 after a span of 25 years, I had also visited Silchar and had stayed with my brother there for a week. That was our last stay together. My last visit to Silchar (as of September 2024)  was from December 12 to December 15, 2023, to look at places I had spent some time occasionally in my teens and early youth. 

Since 2014, it had been a regular feature for me to visit Assam at least once a year. My itinerary in these visits excluded Silchar till 2022.  In 2023, I felt an urge to visit those spots in Silchar where I had spent some time once in a while to see how these have changed. Accordingly, I made a short trip to Silchar between Dec 12 to Dec 15, 2023.

Silchar, which had once been home to a good number of my close relations, was now an abandoned place for me. It had given us shelter on more than one occasion. Though I had not stayed there for long, it was something of a sort of vacation resort for me. I conclude this chapter with my tribute to Silchar.