बैल जोड़ी और दीया - coalition politics. Betma diaries.

"जिस दीये में तेल नहीं, सरकार बदलना खेल नहीं".. I heard when I was busy preparing for exams for my 6th standard in February 1967. A few minutes later I heard " कांग्रेस के भूखे बैल, खा गए शक्कर पी गए तेल".  A 9+ year old boy in me was thoroughly confused, but the excitement soon built up and so was the curiosity. Some enquiries here and there suggested that the two rival political parties Congress and Jansangh were fighting something called election to choose the government in Bhopal and in Delhi. Having read something or other about Jawaharlal Nehru and Gandhi of Congress and about the religious parties I did not take long to pick up the round and colourful metallic badge that I could sport on my chest with a welded pin at the back. I became a proud supporter of INC displaying the symbol, a pair of oxen. Since that day until election results there were several rallies of many candidates not just these two main parties, going through the labyrinths of village. Invariably, in the front there will be about a dozen or so children including me, followed by some elders and once in a while candidates also joined but on those days rallies will be much larger. People would welcome leaders and candidates by garlanding them whenever they passed through their houses, some would also put a tilak on their foreheads all the while loudest cheers would be by the children walking in front, me included.

1967 was an interesting year politically and various leaders who came and addressed public rallies in the only possible place in Betma's Poora Bazaar aka Bada Bazaar. For every party the stage used to get prepared at far end from main road just opposite Bank Of India and in most rallies the crowd would occupy  place right up to the main road and sometimes even beyond that to gaadi adda that was at a slope from where people could see nothing. The PA system using the horn type long speakers from Ahuja Radios (or sometimes some other local suppliers) would ensure that people standing even half a kilometre away could also listen to the leaders.  

The leader whose persona and speeches I liked most, however, was Homi Daji a handsome Parsee gentleman in his early forties who delivered fiery speeches. He was a leader of peasants and had touched chords with people. He was from a party called Communist Party of India (CPI) and the party symbol was a Red Sickle and wheat ear (हंसिया बाली). He was also the sitting Member of Parliament from Indore constituency that we were a part of. The candidates challenging him were Prakash Chandra Sethi of Congress and Satyabhan Singhal of Jansangh. Elections were being held simultaneously for Loksabha (parliament) and Vidhansabha ( state assembly). I don't remember names of assembly candidates but the fight was triangular there too.. from Congress there was Bhagwat Sabu who was from a village called Harsola near Mhow and I wondered why was he running from our (Depalpur) constituency that is not his home. In those days Socialist Party had just split in two SSP and PSP (praja socialist party) and PSP was stronger and was a bigger challenge than Jansangh for assembly elections. PSP had banyan tree as their symbol and someone with surname Patel was their candidate. PSP supporters were called झाड़ छाप (tree kind/type).

In one of the public rallies Rajmata Vijayaraje Scindia also came with her daughter Usha Raje who must have been in prime of her youth in early twenties. Both of them were full of exuberance and spreading glow as royals do. That was also the first time I saw a big diamond ring that adorned Rajmata's fingers. Rajmata ( Royal mother) who was the last queen of Gwalior the largest kingdom of Madhya Pradesh. She was a Congress leader but had some personality clash with Indira Gandhi when later became Prime Minister. She was an MP from Guna (1962-67) and had just left Congress party and joined Jansangh. She had also had some tiff with the then Chief Minister DP Mishra, a very honest, upright and strict administrator due to both these reasons she was hell bent upon defeating Congress in both parliamentary and assembly elections. She was the master planner of bringing the first non Congress government in MP and one of the first few in the country. 

After a lot of heat when election results came Prakash Chandra Sethi and Bhagwat Sabu were victorious. I felt bad for the charming Home Daji of CPI who certainly had more attraction not just in looks but in his speeches and apparently connections with masses that people say was apparent of the public work he did as a parliamentarian. Of the 296 assembly seats Congress was winner on 167 and Jansangh at only 78. DP Mishra had the mandate to come back as CM for another term. But that was the beginning of modern phase of Chanakya type politics in India. What we see today is quite common as horse-trading was not present in those days. Rajmata planned and played her cards well and split Congress and when the assembly was in its first session some 26 MLAs led by DP's able deputy Govind Narayan Singh moved from treasury benches and sat with the opposition declaring a war on Congress and claimed of forming a first-ever non-congress government under Govind Narayan Singh. Before the floor test most of 26 MLAs got abducted and taken to Gwalior and further to Delhi and suddenly resurfaced in assembly on the day of the floor test a few days later. It was quite obvious that they all got  "compensated" handsomely. The new CM was not new to politics he had been a minister for a long time and his father was the first CM of Vindhya Pradesh before formation of Madhya Pradesh. So with 26 MLAs crossing the fence Congress was reduced to 141, 8 short of majority. The new formation of all other parties and independents  with some 20 different ideologies formed the new government as संविद (संयुक्त विधायक दल) सरकार ..essentially a thorough khichari. But Govind Narayan Singh learnt early days that it will be difficult for him to carry on. Money paid was also to be recovered and the first casualty to generate money fell on appointments and transfers. If one were to believe available history Rajmata was running the government back seat driving using her aide Sardar Angre to give commands to CM. Short of two years Govind Narayan Singh was fed-up and refused to "obey" Angre on some appointments and as a fall out told Rajmata that he made a mistake leaving Congress that is in his blood and he is returning back in the fold. But all those 26 MLAs could not be cajoled immediately and Raja Naresh Chandra Singh another hardcore congressman and a tribal king was roped in to lead Samvid government. Alas! This simple and pure at heart tribal king who was loved by his subjects when they ruled the princely state Sarangarh, was not a politician who played dirty and so he lasted just 12 days, 4 days shorter than Aral Behari Vajpayee's  16 of his first term as PM later in 1996.

Many years later, I was happy to have Ashok Singh, former CM Govind Narayan Singh's younger son as my classmate in Engineering college, although he had joined a year before me but since he took a one year drop we were leveled, he still is a friend and thankfully stayed away from politics unlike his father, grandfather and brothers.. 

But Indira Gandhi who was concentrating power in Delhi didn't allow either DP Mishra or Govind Narayan Singh to return as CM instead chose Shyama Charan Shukla son of first CM of the newly formed Madhya Pradesh in 1956, Ravishankar Shukla. Shayama Charan's ministry had lots of new faces and Bhagwat Sabu our MLA was also one of them. Betma turned jubilant and sweets were distributed as it was for the first time that its representative had become a minister. It's regretful that both it's representatives in Bhopal and in Delhi Bhagwat Sabu and Prakash Chandra Sethi, especially Sethi ji who held several important ministries of the country like home and railways in Delhi did very little for the progress of their constituency in their entire career. One example is that of Indore's connectivity with other major business hubs, that still hurts. Indore was always a major business centre of the MP and could have rivalled Bombay and Ahmedabad but for its failure to have a proper railway connectivity that didn't come to it even when PC Sethi was a railway minister. Betma was also promised a rail connectivity on Indore-Dahod route in a survey conducted as early as 1952 but even today after 69 years that project is yet to see the light of the day. That connectivity would have given Indore prominence by bringing Delhi-Bombay route closer and Betma also would have been a different and better place.

That apart, when Sabuji became a minister what he worked hard for was to bring Shyama Charan Shukla (Popularly Shyama Bhaiya) to Betma. As an approaching 12 year old now, I was a lot excited with the prospect of seeing a CM for the first time in my life and somehow managed to be right in front when they along with many other politicians and officers stopped by and took chairs at the verandah of civil dispensary. I was absolutely dumbstruck when I saw a 6 footer slim and handsome Shyama Bhaiya. Don't remember what was being discussed but he looked at me and smiled and that made my day. A bit later coffee was served to them in fine crockery and that was the first time I saw a coffee that could be made by mixing a spoon of coffee into  hot milk.. it was Nescafé that I never saw before. In Betma hardly anyone drank coffee but I had heard of and had a taste of Polson coffee made like tea was made and didn't like the taste. Even in those days Nescafé was pretty expensive, I think a 50 gm tin was for Rs 3.00 and compared to a full milk special tea a cup of coffee would cost twice as much and it was not for commoners and hence no one drank.

In the excitement to have a even closer proximity I was standing near the door of the white ambassador that would carry both Shyama Bhaiya and Sabuji on the back seat. As soon as they came and shut the door, I screamed at the top of my voice, my left hand finger was at the door and had got pressed, fortunately the door was not slammed hard and I was happy to see them off with tears in my eyes came out with the pain, fortunately my fingers of left hand got saved, unlike the right one that I will talk some other time..

Pic courtesy a search result on Internet.

My First Bank.

In 1964 in mid summer when we shifted to Betma it was in development phase like rest of 600,000 other villages in the country. Its proximity to Indore, the largest city of Madhya Pradesh, kept it as modern as possible. There was no electricity, no telephone, no banks, no piped water and many other things that are indicative of progress and prosperity. Fortunately there was a Secondary school that had started as primary in 1915 and quickly moved on to become a high school even before independence. There was a post office also in Betma since a long time, I couldn't figure out when was that established but I think it was there since pre independence era. In those days post offices didn't have a separate staff and were managed by the school teachers alternating as Postmasters. In Betma it was the duty of Mr Anand Rao Joshi who was a primary school teacher, primarily. He was no relation of ours but being the same sub-section Brahmin belonging from Dewas he was know to my parents and we used to call me Mama. He was very humble and honest and did his duties diligently. He had three children all younger to us Prabha, Pratibha and one more. We didn't have much in common but sometimes when we visited them or they visited us, we met. Besides Mr Joshi there was a postman who was the only full time employee in the post office. He helped in taking the dak in a huge khaki tarpauline material waterproof bag to bus stand to load it in some designated bus/buses that went to Indore and Depalpur which being district and tehsil places respectively had bigger post offices that will collect mail from and send mail to Betma. He also delivered mail and money orders to people in the village. There was no telegraph office in Betma either with postoffice or standalone and postmaster went only in the afternoon for a couple of hours even then there was hardly any activity there. 

Our shifting to Betma was lucky for it, as within the same year the work for electricity connectivity began and in a year or so houses started getting electrified, our turn must have come in two years or even later. Around the same time when I was in the primary school studying in the, 5th in late 1965 or early 1966 we got our bank too. Telephone, however, took longer and an exchange that was placed in a premises that department of Post and Telegraph popularly called P&T rented in the house owned by Chandrakunwar's family who lived on one side of the exchange the other being occupied by a Jajoo family whose son Mahesh Jajoo was two year my senior in the school. They had a  big clothing shop in Poora Bazaar managed by his father and uncle Badri Seth. But Betma got telephone exchange between 1969 and 1970 and when that happened it was a bigger excitement than any other invention that patronised Betma. The first telephone connection was given to the Police Station and the honour of first private connection went to Harakchand Seth, unfortunately Jeevanram Seth his father, couldn't get the benefit of this in his life time. I am not sure if the technology used for the exchange was Strowger or Cross Bar but once when I managed to sneak in with someone, I was aghast with the huge machines making lot of noises so much that people couldn't talk there. With just 20 odd connections the relays were constantly making connections and getting disconnecting contributing to the noise level.

There may have been some 10 or 12 racks of large almirah size having lots of wires and up-down switches going here and there. Initially people couldn't make calls from home to anyone and phones just had a receiver (a mic and a speaker combined) but no dialer, as soon as you picked up the receiver it will ring in the exchange and an operator will come on line and ask you who you wish to speak to and connect. I think intially you could call only within Betma and it was more a thrill than a benefit as in the time that you got the connection you could run and talk to the intended person. In later years exchange started connecting out locations also and phones were replaced with a phone with dial. However, subscriber trunk dialing (STD) was introduced in the early eighties only. Speaking to people in Indore wouldn't take more than 5 minutes of connection time but calling someone in Bombay or other places you would have to book a trunk call that sometime will take couple of days to materialise. I will talk more about communication era later as there is a a lot and interesting stories out there. I wondered if people on either side of the exchange premises could sleep or rest properly after it was installed.

Mohan Lal Neema was a respected and pleasant person who studied in school with my father so they must be of same age. After schools my father passed Inter and became a teacher and Neemaji completed his graduation and became a politician. He was member of INC but didn't held any public office not was he ever got elected. But he always appeared busy so must be an important person in the party or because of his connections. I, however, don't know what he did for living. His house was in one end of Poora bazaar soon after which the hugely wide market became narrower. He also had three daughters, two older than me and one younger. Eldest one must be 5 year older than me and the middle one about 2 and the youngest one must have been 2 year younger. Middle daughter who was pretty good looking and petit girl studied with Damu and was a year ahead of me. She was the only one of the three with whom I had some conversations in the school. But in 1965-66, I had no interest or information about them as we were busy playing with our direct friends. Sometime in late 1965 and early 1966, I could see lot of activities in their house at the end of which I saw the shape of the house completely changed. Half the portion where they lived remained same but the other half was modernised with high sealing roof and an open large hall with some partitions. Some days later I saw a big board coming up there with "Bank of India"  written that also had their famous BOI Star logo. 

Not only  people who lived in Betma but people from neighborhood villages were also coming to Poora Bazaar curious and excited about this newest pride of Betma. Many people including me had no idea as to what a bank was and some others explained to them this is a government institution that will give you money at much lesser cost than what Seth Jeevanram offered and you can also keep your money with bank that will be safe ( with the government) . Some sahukars (moneylenders) also felt threatened. Mr Neema had made a permanent arrangement for a regular income by renting this part of the house.

The day of inagration was like a mela, the ribbon was cut by some VIP I think the district collector and everyone was feeling important being there on the first day. Biscuits, samosas and tea was kept out for everyone who walked past. And as a part of the inaugural function an essay competition was organised by Mr Punglia, BOI's branch manager. A tall fair and handsome Mr Punglia was all smiles with the trouble free inaugural function thus far. I was one of the school children who participated in the essay competition and went dressed in my best. I don't recall the topic of the essay but after we submitted our write-ups and judges went through them I was declared winner. Amongst applause I was given the certificate, a writing notebook, a nice plastic footscale with BOI logo engraved on it but the best was yet come and when the guest of honour gave me Rs 25 cash award I was on cloud 9 as I don't recollect if I had seen or touched so much money before. Till date I consider that as my first income that made me feel independent and worthy.

Mr Punglia then explained me about banking in some simple words and requested me to open a savings account in the bank. That I did and hence there started banking journey of my life as an eight year+. People who visited bank several years after its opening found my picture that decorated the walls amongst others as the first day bank customers.

 My love for BOI remained throuhout since and I still hold an account with them. 

Culturetenment in Betma - part 2

I wanted to give memories that took me back to Baby Indira's record action dances, some rest after putting them down to Google cloud, where once you deposit anything remains till iternity. But when I set out for a long drive over the weekend and switched on radio, it was playing 1966 songs on Vividbharti and that 45 minute long programme set me back to the stage where I left Baby Indira. The songs that I distinctly remember she used to dance on were being played on the radio sequentially a) titli udi, ud jo chali, phool me kaha.., b) suno sajana papihe ne..., c)  khat likh de sawaria ke naam babu..and d) phool ban jaunga shart ye he magar...besides hits of that year. That put a screen over  my windshield and I was watching Baby Indira again while on the wheels driving at a highway speed focusing eyes on the road and ears on the songs. What a coincidence!

But 1966 was not the only time she came to Betma and subsequent trips following years did nothing to take that charm away. I used to be as dumbfounded as when I saw her for the first time, as if under some spell. I remember this happening thrice while I was in Betma. Another incidence added to my attraction for her was entry of another set of dancers. Seeing the success of the troupe that Baby Indira was a part of, a competition also surfaced and another theatresade an entry thar had not one but two stars.. sisters Baby Suman and Baby Mangla. Their theatrics/plays were not so well received but since there were two dancers the whole 2 to 2 1/2 hour show consisted mostly dances what we called record actions and some skits instead of full plays. That also made them more competitive by employing lesser number of artists and other staff. But that apart, Baby Mangla was too young and may have been just about two or three year older than me and Baby Suman another 1 or 2 years. They both danced well but it was not the same. Their shows were houseful because they were entertaining and could dance on a much wider range of songs as on some songs they both danced together. Their troupe was stationed in the Police station premises and nearer to the bus stand that added number of "walking customers" some of them waiting for their buses, that they often missed. Well, the fun continued till I left Betma ..  now it was कभी ये और कभी वो kind of option.. that added two more feathers to my cap. Now I wonder with such preoccupation, how I topped the class year after year.

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When I entered 9th that was the first year of secondary school, we had to choose between science or arts unlike these days when you face that question after passing 10th. Although I fancied literature there was nothing that stopped me to choose  PCM that stands for Phisics, Chemistry and Maths with Hindi and Sankrit. I would have gone for biology instead of mathematics but that option didn't exist. It was too early for me to have a choice between engineering , medical or arts (humanities) but the general "impression" was that the first two streams were meant for people who were "better in studies". I had seen more doctors but not known any engineer besides one of my father's cousins so becoming a doctor was more fascinating but that dream got culled before it became a dream due to "option not available" sign. So that was the beginning of my engineering career before entering the engineering college. Once you have opted PCM in class 9th you are bound to dream to become an engineer as no one found the word scientist fascinating and people who were aware to the the educational system then, knew that after doing BSc or MSc what you become is a lab assistant or a science teacher in a school. There was no institution then that was known to produce Scientists. At least with the then limited knowledge me and my classmates had, said so. In my class I had Premchand Patidar a studious and hard working fellow who cycled from Methwada a small village some 14 Kms away. He was not the only one though who peddled so much even Naveen Shukla, another one of my new classmates paddled same distance everyday when he traveled from Ghatabillod to Betma. After spending a year in class 9th our friendship was all but obvious. Although I didn't consider Patidar a competition but he did. He had an edge over me in the eyes of Dr DP Mourya our maths teacher who had just submitted his dissertation for PhD and was hinting to join Holkar Science college in Indore once he is awarded the degree, that he later did but not before us passing 10th. At least that's what Patidar thought.

Sometime in the summer of 1970 when we had passed class 9th and were promoted to the 10th, Premchand's brother's marriage was fixed and all the PCM students were invited to attend that. Those were the days when marriages in friend's families or anyone known in the village didn't require any formal invitation as such. These festivities were open to everyone in the village especially when you have known the family one way or the other. I didn't have any transport to reach Methwada so I remember walking some distance on the main highway with another classmate before we requested a bullock cart to offer us a ride once the pabble or the mud road started.  On our way was a very small village called Ravad (रावद). After walking for about an hour in hot sun of May, I was thirsty, so went to a house and asked the lady who was busy putting a layer of cowdung over the elevated entrance of the house as was common to keep the house clean and disinfected, for a glass of water. She looked at me and asked कौन जात? ( Which cast). Innocently I said बामण (Brahmin) and before giving me a glass of water she almost touched my feet 🤔.

The bullock cart joy ride would have taken another 30-35 minutes to take us to Methwada. It was late afternoon. Festivities for marriages used to be a long affair then and we had reached just a day before the D-day. We had no plans to join the barat the following day that was to proceed to another village where bride's family lived. We got good reception from the family and something or other kept going at the couple of houses in the village where celebrations had started. I was not interested in those so just took a stroll in the village till the sun went down. Soon I saw a crowd gathering at one of the venues and made my way to that. Everyone was excited and I got to know that soon a nautch was going to begin. It was not a traditional nautch that I had seen in some movies or the record actions of Baby Indira, Baby Suman or Baby Mangla but more like the one that I had seen in haat bazaars performed by "women". Much later I got to know that they were third gender people and were called hijras ( or eunuchs). But the style was different and watching  closely I noticed that some womens were women and some others were women like the haat bazaar kind.. marriage guests called all of them nautch girls. They must have been of varying age from late teens to late forties and were dancing to the rhythm of a dholak and singing folk wedding songs, lyrics of some of which I found embarrassing. However, I noticed most villagers and relatives were ecstatic.. singing and dancing with those girls and "semi-girls". As it started getting dark the tempo of rhythm kept increasing. After a while I was hungry and dinner was served so I moved there with some friends. Even after dinner the dance "festival" was continuing and I noticed the guests who were dancing were totally drunk and kept falling instead of dancing. People were also showering  rupee notes on the girls and throwing in the air that the dholi was collecting. Slowly people started moving and so were girls but movement of some people looked suspicious as they were talking in whispers and holding hands of some women as they went away and vanished. Dances were still going but my friends and I decided to call it a day and when we went to one hall where some guests were sleeping. 

Much later I was educated on the happenings around. That was and perhaps still is a culture and is a way marriages are celebrated in villages. Next morning Patidar family gave us a send-off and my friends and I returned in the bullock cart that was arranged by Premchand for us to take back to Betma.

It was another first experience attending a wedding without my family and I felt more grown with this other kind of entertainment.

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Representative picture of nautch downloaded from Internet.

  

Culturetenment in Betma.

 Kusum was the name I was forgetting the other day, the sixth girl in my class that went missing and I was feeling frustrated and wondering how can whole girl go missing from my memory. She had an elder sister Vijaya one class ahead of us. Their father Dr Prakash Jain was an RMP and had his clinic in Poora Bazaar in Jhalara Kothi that had one passage in the middle and otherside as you might have predicted was the pharmacy owned by Dwarka's father but I noticed that's where Dwarka was always found when he was not in the school, assisting in business. He was in class 10th with Damu and Vijaya. The clinic had a little platform, must be about 4 feet wide that served as waiting room on one side and on the other one huge glass bottle was kept on a wooden stool that had a red concoction that was the master medicine for general ailments like cough. Dr Prakash Jain had a younger brother who had finished his graduation and was idling so he was asked to train himself up to assist. Pavan was a happy go lucky guy but didn't mind attending patients. He was also my cricket commentary listening buddy and we and some more cricket enthusiast would listen commentary at the clinic whenever Dr Prakash Jain was not at the clinic but even when he was and no patients around he didn't mind if any important match was going on.. he indeed was a kind hearted person most suitable to be a doctor. Pavan called me Chandrasekhar, who was the star off-break spinner of team India in the sixties and early seventies, one reason for naming me such was that I claimed to be an off spinner and the other I will tell later, that's another story. 

Adjacent to the clinic was another residential building that had no shop. The other side of that was the house of another friend Murali Soni who was also one class ahead of me but was a sport and with his cousins Gopal and Trilok Jajoo, who were respectively in 11th and 9th we often enjoyed playing the board games. Murali had two elder brothers and a younger sister  Radha but I am forgetting what his father did. Perhaps, he was a pawn broker like their neighbors on the other side Seth Jeevanram. Seth Jeevanram was like Nagar Seth of Betma. Very rich and a strictly miser who lived like a poor peasant to hide his wealth. Seth Jeevanram was a widower and childless and once he unsuccessfully adopted an heir as was common amongst Marwari people but didn't like him as that guy appeared spendthrift, careless and irresponsible so he was "de-adopted" and in his place Harakchand was adopted. Harakchand was petit and fair looking young man must have been in his early twenties. Usually, such adaption would happen from some relative or other, so Harakchand must have been some blood relation. Seth Jeevanram and his ancestors were known for exploiting hapless farmers who would come to him under duress to borrow money by mortgaging their land and/or gold/silver jewelry for a failed crop or for children's wedding. Within a year or so Hukumchand proved that he was a worthy heir to continue the tradition. Long before his arrival in Betma, on one weekly haat/bazaar day some gangsters (who must have taken to this profession after such exploitation) came to Seth Jeevanram's shop pretending to be clients for borrowing money and when Seth went inside to get something, warning shots got fired and he and his servants were overpowered, they took away whatever was within their sight but that must have been a fraction of his wealth. Some of these armed decoits were guarding the place and the market had immediately emptied out completely when they had heard the first shot. In a matter of 10 minutes everything was over and before cops could decoits vanished. Police station was not very far and seeing people fleeing from the market cops must have known about this event but they surfaced only when the "show" was over for their own safety. More from the fear of losing a lot of money than any other shock, Seth Jeevanram fell unconscious. This incident that had happened a couple of years before we moved to Betma and was told me by my father long ago and by several other people after we moved.

Between Dr Prakash Jain's clinic and Murali's house was another building that was unoccupied for several years after we moved but got rented in 1969, when I moved to class 9, to one Dr Shukla, MBBS who got transferred to Betma as in-charge of the civil dispensary. Dr Shukla must be in his late forties and had three daughters oldest of them Shobha didi, must have graduated by then, middle one was college going and the youngest one in class 10th then. A new comer in Betma and in the school she had sensationalised the place with her intelligence beauty. So much so that before she left for school and till she reached home idlers would be queueing up is some corner in Poora Bazaar to have a glance. I don't recollect their names but like Kusum's name bounced in my mind this will also come sometime later. Years later in mid eighties when I worked with Tandon Corporation in SEEPZ, Bombay someone had informed me about Shobha Didi who lived in neighborhood and asked me to meet her. I was meeting her almost 13-14 years after I had left Betma and it is now another 35 years since I last saw her and have neve known their whereabouts. Around this time Dr Khadaite had established him own practice and perhaps had quit his government job. Mrs and Dr Khadaite were lovely couple and well to do and Mrs Khadaite (my maasi) loved me a lot, as maasis do. They had four children a boy Satish followed by three daughters Usha, Nisha and Sandhya. Satish was two year ahead of me in school and girls were much younger (3 to 6 years in that order). I wondered if doctors had a boon of having daughters than sons as besides Satish the three doctors in Betma had 8 daughters between them.

Dr Jain's house was the end of Poora Bazaar and there was an empty government plot that was used for recreational activities. There was a 30 feet wide opening to this a the row of residences on one side of the road ended short this ground and the last house was that of Ramu another classmate since my 4th standard who got dropped out after the 8th. He must have been 16 then and had started working initially as a tempo cleaner and later became a driver ferrying passengers from Betma to Indore. He had to do this as he lost his father and there had no option. The plot would turn into centre of the village whenever there was any festivity. Ramlila was the most prominent of those as three day before the navratri and two days after Dashhara the place would be buzzing with activities. Usually there was a visiting troupe of professional Ramlila performers who would stage this ticketed event. Booing and clapping was constant depending on the characters on the stage. In those days it was not common to find female artists so everyone on the stage was a male artist performing roles of all ramayana characters. The prettiest of the male artist would be playing the role of Sita and whenever she would step on the stage audience would bow for her. The show would start with a puja and aarti and end with the same the only difference is that in the end one of the characters would carry a donation box and ask everyone to contribute and collect as much as the ticket money would be as some generous and religious people would offer as much as a rupee or sometime Rs 2.

The funniest part of the Ramlila would be when a regular artist would not show up and a standby would require continuous prompt and often audience could hear him shout to the prompter ऊँचा बोल ( say loudly) and he still would not comprehend so the prompter himself will say the dialogue reading from the script and would go backstage annoyed.

On the same ground with audience facing the other side (if one was the Ambani end other would be Adani end of Narendra Modi stadium) once a year or sometimes more frequently there would be a dance drama troupe stationed there for a month. Usually this would be soon after Ramlila as that was the best time of the year weather wise. If the tickets for Ramlila were Paise 10 to Paise 50, here the tickets would be from Paise 25 to Re 1.00. They would some play and in the two or three intermissions there would be 15-20 minutes record action each. So the whole show would take some two and a half hour. These will be more entertainment than any literary activities. So the typical plays would be Harishchand-Taramati, or Sultana Daaku or Putli bai or some locally scripted plays like "andhe ki laathi" etc. rather than Kalidasa's Meghdoot  or Mohan Rakesh's Aadhe Adhoore. This was the place for people to relax and get entrained that I just thought of defining as CULTURTAINED than to have anything that would be thought provoking. Majority of people would go out for a smoke during the play but would be back during the intermission to watch the dances that I won't say provocative but definitely attractive.

The dancing girl Baby Indira must have been 6 or 8 year older than me and in her full bloom when I first saw her in 1966 or a year later when I was a 9 year old. I am not sure if this was her first trip to Betma but that was the first time I saw her. I was ushered in the theatre by a friend as I don't think I had money to see the play. That day when play started like others I also laughed at the jokes that were said by an entertainer when artists would go for change of dresses. Soon it was time for "Intermission" and record action and I heard " jhumka gira re Bareilly ke bazaar men" blaring over the sound system and baby Indira made her entry from the left side of the stage dressed in a flared pink coloured beautiful dress. Even at that young age I was spellbound and couldn't take my eyes of that beautiful dancer and with wide eyed said "wow". The dance must have gone on for 5 minutes but even after 50 years that scene is engrained. I wonder if I bothered to listened to the song, I was simply glued and looked her. During the two or three breaks that night there there would have been 5 or 6 numbers when Baby Indira may have danced. She made me forget even the name of the play and I returned home starry eyed that night. Those were the days when parents won't question or raise their voice even if you didn't come back, assuming I may have stayed with a friend for the night.

During rest of the troupe's stay I may have gone twice again and had the same " attack" as the first time. Couldn't go more often as that would have raised some suspicion here and there. Once during the day I went to the theatre, there was no gate or ticket and found Baby Indira flying a kite, I went near her with a curious look hoping she will burst into a song and dance for me...

Picture of Sadhna performing on "jhmka gira re" from film Mera Saaya. downloaded from Internet.

If I were a Principal.

Dumbel PT was very exciting and I would do it dexterously for which I was chosen to lead the PT in the school every morning along with a couple of other students who would take my place as standby if I didn't come to school. Not just dumbels but even the other forms of PT, I will lead that would include the PT in standing and sitting postures. So the lead student would be mounted on a sturdy table in the front row and sometimes on the dais that was a small multi-purpose platform that would be used every day for school assembly for prayers and on special occasions for addressing the congregation as well as to stage plays and other school functions. I was always the youngest in my class from kachchi pehli ( KG equivalent) till the end of my engineering degree. From KG till 3rd standard, 4 classes I finished in 3 years. In the sixties there was a provision that if you perform well in the class you are given an option to appear for exams of the next class and should you clear that, you get promoted not just one class but two classes in one go. When I started in kachchi pehli (one class before class 1) then too my fellow students were older but after the "double promotion" when I cleared both class 2 and 3 in one year, everyone in the class was on an average two year older than me.

 

Most often I was a favourite student of teachers as I was obedient, I think so. Perhaps that's why in the middle school classes (6th through 8th) I got the chance to lead PT. Everyone used to call Dumb Bells "dumbel" and I never knew until many decades later that it is dumb bell and not dumbel and realised it is an English word and not a Hindi one. After passing out from school no one talked about dumbels and the next time I saw them was in a Talwalkar’s gym in Bombay during Asian games in 1982 when there was a frenzy in sports activities. The PT drills got so engrained in me that even today I know all those sequences एक दो तीन चार, पांच छः सात आठ, आठ सात छः पांच, चार तीन बदली कर (one two three four, five six seven eight, eight seven six five, four three change to the next).

 

When I went to class six the school changed from primary to middle. Middle and Secondary both were in the same premises with different class rooms and different staff rooms for teachers. In the middle school we were not taught home science or science but instead we had horticulture (बागवानी). So the subjects were Hindi, Sanskrit, Maths, Social Sciences and Bagwani.  Mr Sabnis was our Principal for the entire school, he was a very handsome, tall man and a strict administrator. I always looked at him in awe whenever I saw him and although his younger son was in my class and I never managed enough courage to go up to him and meet him beyond saying "namaste sir" when I saw him in the premises. His elder son Vipin was in the last year of school when I was in sixth and I used to admire and fancy him as he too was equally tall and handsome and would play cricket with us even after he passed out from school. As every student, I too was fond of cricket and always loved to bowl as a left-hand off-break spinner. I used to manage to spin the "leather" ball on the soft mud pitch that we used to curate ourselves. Now, I shudder to think of the danger the leather ball posed without any safety gear. I always used to wait to bowl Vipin bhaiyya but never managed to take his wicket. The game of cricket continued until I graduated from the high school.

 

The same year my father was transferred to another village on the other side of Sanawda called Badi Billod aka Kali Billod that had pucca approach road. My father also saved up some money and bought a bicycle to save on time as Kali Billod was more distant than Sanawda, about 5 kilometres from home and walking would have taken much of his day. It was a Raleigh, a new shining bicycle that we were not allowed to fiddle with since we didn't know how to ride that’s because we were not tall enough. But I was so impressed with the cycle from this British company that when I got admitted to engineering college many years later and bought my first bicycle that was also Raleigh. Unlike the one for which father paid some Rs 75 six years earlier, I paid Rs 192 for mine out of my own, my scholarship money.

 

But there was an excitement to ride a bicycle. I think I was in class 7th when one day I decided that I will ride a bicycle. I had done that a couple of times earlier with Damu and managed to balance it well. Since I was not tall enough to get over the bike, I used to ride it what we called a kenchi (scissor) style. It was very common those days for kids who didn't reach to the height of the seat. In kenchi, you would put one foot on ground and take the other on the peddle of opposite side and by giving a push through the paddle you will bring the cycle in motion and paddle only half and half while balancing the cycle, both your feet are still well below the front bar where at times a passenger would sit. When you become expert but still not tall enough, you would paddle full circle rather than half and half. So that day I sneaked out of the class on some pretext and picked up a bicycle from the cycle stand, I didn't know whose cycle that was and rode that home that was less than half a kilometre. I had nothing waiting at home so I simply drank a glass of water, there was no one home so no questions asked. While I was returning back to school at the main cross road that was the highway connecting Indore to Ahmedabad, it was an upward steep slope and my kenchi style could not give enough thrust and just when I reached the road, I couldn't balance and fell down, my head hit the road and I passed out for a couple of minutes when I came to my senses I noticed a couple of buses had already passed and had steered away from me. I got up little shaky and walked to school with the cycle, I had no clue what I was doing but managed to put the cycle back to where I had picked up and went to my class that had just started. There was blood on my collar and someone noticed and told the teacher who promptly sent me to Dr Khadaite's home and I was given dressings both physical and otherwise since Mrs Khadaite was like my aunt, my mother's classmate-sister who went together to the silai-school. Somehow I thanked my stars that it didn't get flared up or was it, I don't remember that.

We used to call our school’s annual functions "gatherings" and that was the best time of the year in the school although I never took part in any cultural events, which were the best part besides the feasts that were an everyday occurrence for all the three days. Every evening there used to be cultural events and during the day there would be sports competition. The sweets for the feasts would come from Indore and from each of the high school class a select few students would travel to Indore with a teacher and bring lots of sweets depending on the contributory collection. In the middle school we considered this very privileged activity since we were not allowed to go to Indore for this and this was restricted to high school classes only. I think in the 9^th standard I got my chance when I too went to Indore and to Sarafa Bazaar where Sweet shops were concentrated, with a teacher and a couple of my classmates. Out teacher had some social visit and we decided to take a break and went to Alka Talkies near Jail Road to see a Biswajit- Babita-Helen starter film "Kismat" and I still remember the song "kajra mohabbat wala.." in which Biswajit was dressed as a woman to hide from cops or someone. This was perhaps the first occasion for me to watch a movie in a big hall on my own besides some movies that I saw in Dewas in Mahesh Talkies or Nagar-niwas talkies during summer vacation with family. Oh yes, there was one more occasion when we had gone to Indore to our Bua's place when I was 9 or so and sneaked out on my own and went to Neelkamal talkies in Nandanagar area without telling anyone. The movie running inside the hall was Rajesh Khanna starter Aakhri khat. I had no money to buy ticket and stood there in front of the entry gate for a long time, may be 10 or 15 minutes when a gatekeeper asked if I want to see the movie, he knew I would love it since it was a story of a small child played by Master Bunty who was too small and had disappeared and the movie revolved around that event. I was only too happy to see the movie and when I got back home, no one even noticed that I was missing for over 3 hours.

Record-action, as the name suggests are the dances performed on stage when a song is played in the background. Unlike current days when you play a song over Spotify or YouTube, back then you had a gramophone record player that will play the choice of your song over a poly-vinyl record connected to an amplifier system. They were itemised songs unlike the item songs these days. Students would practice them for weeks before they put up the show. Since there was no access to the real dance in the movie, the choreography would be done by someone who has seen the movie or often times by watching the performances of some other troupe that occasionally put up shows in Betma, where an artist has performed/danced on the song. The songs that were quite popular and performed year after year were like "jhumka gira re, Bareilly ke bazaar men" and “Paan khae saiyaan humaare".. there would be some comic skits and parodies too that would make people laugh heartily, like the one that Damu created and that still tickles me to this day. " Tumane kisi ki bhens (buffalo) ko jaate hue dekha hai, woh dekho mujhase ruth kar mera paada ( a buffalo calf) ja raha hai”. The original song being: tumane kisi ki jaan ko Jaate huye dekhaa hai, Wo dekho mujhse roothkar, Meri jaan jaa rahi hai".

One day there was an extempore speech competition and I got the chit " if, I were a Principal".. I came on mic and started with this…

“If I were a principal, I would remove the attendance register and I will allow everyone to do what they want to. I will tell teachers to distribute sweets in the classroom and I will debar teachers to punish students and so on and on forth for about 10-12 minutes and everyone had a hearty laugh and I won the competition, thanks to jury who loved my sense of humour.

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Representative picture of PT exercises with dumb bells taken from Internet.

Child entrepreneur.

This must have been around the same time around 1966-67 when the Loban venture was encouraging and profit making. During Diwali time I observed people would be buying lots of things for household for the celebrations. Diwali was  and is indeed the biggest festival that we celebrate here in India and this has been such since time immemorial. So I am sure not just in 20th century but also in preceding time in 15th or 10th or 5th century or even before this was celebrated with the same fervour.. with gay and gaiety. 

Shops will be decked up with novelty that would be released by manufacturers to attract more and more customers and even when they had similar items at home just to tweak the design here and there to attract people into buying. Be it some utensils or glassware or decorative pieces or firecrackers or what you may have there. People also want to be well stocked for food items with spices and grains that they usually don't keep but for festivities they would be using them for making savories and sweets.

The weekly markets would be larger than the usual with more vendors and more items and noise levels will go multifold. In those days we used to enjoy such noise and often mimic it then or later and laugh. My father had taken a loan and bought a running flourmill from someone to add some extra income as it was hard for him to meet up with expenses of family of 7 (including our ageing grandfather, Baa). 

Baa was well respected in the village where he spent all his life and during his work life he was engaged in Holkar State service as Patwari, a revenue officer. This was a very important position as even today a revenue officer would have. He would know everyone who has some land, big or small and everyone would know him. Actually, more people would know him than he would know people. As Patwari he would have control over the land of several villages in the vicinity for any kind of transaction: sale, purchase, transfer etc. I am sure he commanded great respect being upright. He was also very kind and helpful to people extending moral as well as monetary support to poor and needy , especially farmers. That left him penniless after retirement. So we didn't have much to spend or got anything in inheritance but respect from people and his values. He had some small savings with which he had purchased a small piece of land but being a revenue office he thought it inappropriate to have it in his name and had given it to his younger brother hoping he would have it back when he retires ..that obviously didn't happen. He must have had little pension from the state that was perhaps sufficient for his own sustenance. 

He was happiest when my father opted for a transfer and managed to have a posting in Sanawda as a sole teacher of primary school near Betma. In those days inter-district transfers were very difficult and he had to request senior divisional education officers on compassionate grounds for a transfer. Even to reach out to such authorities was tough so I suppose he approached one of his uncles who was a headmaster in a school and a very respected teacher, a social worker and a homeopath doctor who studied homeopathy on his own and used to run a charitable clinic with his own money, outside school timings to serve people. He was very popular not just in his town Badnawar that was a tehsil of Dhar District, but also in and around Indore Division. For his teaching services he was also awarded a Rashtrapati Puraskaar (President's Medal) in the late sixties. We will talk later about him.

I think the amount was Rs 4000 for which my father purchased the flour mill with earning potential of Rs 200 per month after cutting all expenses including salary of one operator, electricity and Rs 10 per month rent of the place. It was a nice and open place from front and behind with a room size of some 20' X 40' and a platform of  20'x10' in front and some space at the back. On one side of the aata-chakki ( as flourmill are called) was Pehlwan Amarsingh's house that had some 10-12 milk giving buffaloes tied all the time except during the day and on the other was a shop cum residence of a barber. The road outside was also wide by village standards which can allow two bullock carts to pass at the same time. This place was between our home and the bus stand each about 300 meters away due to that there was lot of movement and even if there were no customers, you won't get bored sitting or just being there. This venture of my father was called "Tribandhu Flour Mill (three brothers' Aata Chakki)". There are more stories associated with this place that we will keep for later. 

For now, I observed during the weekly market that during the Diwali time other then the regular vendors some new vendors would also sprung up with "seasonal" items. One such item that came to my attention was the picture of Ma Laxmi flanked by ma Sarawati on one side and Lord Ganesh on the other. There were different sizes of pictures of the same deity. I also observed that everyone who came to the weekly market bought at least one new picture (paana) although they may be having an old one from the previous years. Some would be framed in fancy frames and some others loose. Majority of the pictures that for sold were loose printed on shiny papers of 4"x6" or 6"x8 and some 12"x15" as well. I quickly did some calculations and with some money left in my piggy bank I told a friend's father who used to go to Indore for his shop's stock replenishments to get me an assortment of ma laxmiji's printed pictures.. ( Laxmi ji ke paane). Having got them I first put a nice display on the chabootara /platform outside the Chakki but found that the off take was very low so the next week I made a mobile shop and made a cardboard display that I could carry in my small hands with some thread strings attached so that the "paane" don't get slipped.. I had to practice it hard and the week after, when the weekly market started buzzing with activities I started roaming through the place from one end to another it would be about 300 meters with several ( 2 or 3) rows in between. In about 3 to 4 hours I sold some 300+ pictures of various sizes. Overall a 15 day business would have rendered me a profit of Rs 30 or more. Rs 10 on each market days and Rs 10 or so on all other days. 

So I had diversified my business and with some innovation managed to remain in business for both Loban and Laxmi ji ke Panne for the next three years. In my last year in Betma I was in class 10th that used to be high school board exam so I gave up my business for other young and budding entrepreneurs.

Picture of one of those paanas that is still with us.

 

Early Entrepreneur.

Quoting Merriam Webster dictionary: Tazia is a replica of the tomb of Husain, the martyred grandson of Muhammad, that is carried in processions during the Shi'ite festival of Muharram. 

Muharram used to be a big festival for me as well. Being a born non-sectarian, that I continue to be, I have been celebrating all the festivals of any religion, as they come. As under 10 year old child, I knew the celebration part but not the history of it. I also used to wonder about the rigour with which those ahead of the procession would dance and inflict wounds upon themselves as part of the three day long festival (later learnt, it was mourning). The Mehdi ki Raat, the Katl ki Raat and the final day of Tazia processions. The first two I looked at carefully and understood much later during my final years of school. But at the onset of this story I used to be excited with the final day procession that would pass through Betma and finally all the fancy, well decorated tableau some having larger than life white horses would rest at Karbala and huge crowd would gather around to have a thorough look at them and also discuss amongst themselves and rank them, not sure if anyone would ask them to vote to decide which tableau was the best. The place will be filled with people of all religion not just Shi'a Muslims who would come from nearby villages on bullock carts, bicycles and also on foot ..men, women and children. Some in their burqas too. Although this was a festival of mourning it was this also a Mela and people would come to enjoy the day in the best of their clothes for the occasion. As a token, at the end of the day a small replica of Tazia would get immersed in the river flowing nearby (the same river that would have Damu's panwari a little further near it's banks). In a way there were similarity in excitement and celebrations to the Anant Chaudas for us kids.. in tableau, in vendors selling goodies in the noise around etc. etc. Children don't care why it is observed/celebrated they just need reason to feel happy.

Much later, even today I don't understand as to why some people want to disturb this happiness of children and some others. I now learnt that Muharram is a Shi'a festival who are different from Sunnis in their belief about who is/was true follower of Prophet Hazrat Mohammad. But back then they I hardly cared the reason for celebrations/ festivities.

I must have been 8 or 9 when I first noticed this festival and went out on my own to have fun in the Mela. Over there I saw that some people would buy a small packet that would fit into your palm, wrapped in some paper and put out all its content in front of a Tazia into a small pot with fire burning in it and there would be sudden change in aroma of the air, it would be full of lovely almost intoxicating fragrance. Through an enquiry I learnt that the stuff packed in those packet was called LOBAN ( a resin also called gum Benzoin) and it's a kind of material similar to guggal dhoop that enhances the fragrance once put to the holy fire that burns before the Tazia. Then I recollected that this is the same fragrance that you smell when some nomadic wandering fakirs with something in their hand, when they ask for alms they would put loban into the small fire they carry to fumigate surroundings with aroma. Loban is also used in incense sticks for wonderful fragrance and also has its use in aromatherapy. Further enquiries revealed that with  one kg of Loban resin you could make 200 packets and each packet gets sold for 5 paisa. Meaning you could collect Rs 10 if you sold 1Kg that otherwise would cost you Rs 5.00. The idea of making some profits for engrained into me and a few weeks before the next Muharram I bought 1kg of Loban and made 200 small packets wrapped in papers. Luckily no one at home noticed or objected since I used my "own" money and didn't ask for any help. 

Come the day and my excitement was at its peak, much more than precious years. I took a small home-stitched cotton shoulder bag and put all 200 packets carefully in it and started my entrepreneurial journey wearing a deep pocket knicker to keep the change and ensured it is not torn. At the Karbala ground the crowd had started gathering and people were offering loban to the small fire put in front of those tableaus. I began by shouting " Loban le lo, Loban le lo", 5 Paise ki pudia.. 5 Paise ki. " When people saw a young boy selling more quantity of Loban than other vendors they crowded around and within an hour or so, my stock vanished after shifting my place from one Tazia to another when I saw the crowd thinning around.

I was very happy with my venture and was on the top of the world having collected Rs 10.00 of which I made a profit of Rs 5.00.

Shradh Paksh - Betma days

Two days after Anant Chatursashi another festivity starts for a fortnight this is called Shradh Paksh from a day after full moon until the new moon day. It is considered auspicious for remembering your ancestors who departed and to get their blessings. You celebrate or observe the day of their departure as per Hindu day called tithi that falls between 1st and 15th, the new moon cycle (krishna paksh). It is believed that when you remember your ancestors these days and pray for them and offer food and seek blessings of brahmins and also offer food to crows who take the food directly to your ancestors in the heaven and you are blessed. Since there are only 15 days in the calendar it is ensured that your ancestors must have departed on one of those days, you may not, however, remember the exact day of many of your ancestors beyond one or two generations so you pray for all the undated departed ancestors on day 15, the new moon day, also called Sarvpitr amavasya. That's the grand finale of the fortnight when you pray for everyone in your ancestry. You do not start any new work till everyone of your ancestors has blessed you, so you won't buy or start any new venture during this fortnight and do the same a day after, in the next fortnight with vengeance for all your accumulated desires that you have been holding for two weeks and there starts another series of festivities to begin with navratri ( 9 nights of praying Durga with her various names like Kali, Annapurna etc.).

Coming back to Shradh Paksh, Brahmins would suddenly become far and few in those days as everyone in Betma would seek their blessings by offering food during these days. All three of us brothers would get invitations in advance for giving "blessings" to our jajmaans (host). Usually, all three of us will go to the same houses but on "popular days" when too many ancestors have departed or on Sarvpitr amavasya we would go separately. Those days and even now in villages the houses were built based on the communities so you would have a Rajput mohalla, a kaachhi mohalla, different harijan ( in those days they were called by a different name which is now termed illegal) mohalla etc. etc. Others would be spread across the village. There were a bunch of Bania families in our neighborhood and we would get "booked" for different dates to "bless" them by accepting invitations. Except on the days when we would seek blessings of our own ancestors those days lunch will be prepared only for grandpa/ baa, (In Maharashtra, MP and other Hindi speaking belt Ba or Baa is a term used to address elderly male, usually grandfathers with respect, however, in gujarati culture baa is used for mothers and grandmothers), parents and my sister as traditionally girls were not considered for seeking blessings. It was a big fortnight long food festivals. The usual preparation those days would be halwa, poorie, kheer, raita, papad and some seasonal vegetables. We would get formal invitation and a reminder in the morning and would have a proper and long bath and dress up for the occasion and leave home to bless the families of our jajmaans. We would be offered a clean dhurrie to sit on the floor and a four inch high patla/chowki (a stool) where a large brass thali( plate) would be placed with two or three katoris (bowls) along with a brass glass of drinking water. As such the whole host family would gather around and pray with folded hands and request us to have our food but since all fifteen days they can't shut their shops so sometime they would take turns and male members would just show their faces and go back to attend to their shops ( most of our hosts had either a grocery or a grain shop (आ ढ त की दुकान). Although we were kids but growing up kids eat as much as adults and specially if these are meals in a Bania household and that too special ones for the occasion, you would start eating only after you have taken a small portion of every offering and place it in one corner and took some water in your palm and put it around your plate as an anjali , that is a prayer to God whom you offer the food, prayed lord , before you start eating. The feast would go on for half an hour, and the last of the house and other ladies would not let you finish till you are full to the brink of bursting and almost overflowing with the food and burped. You will be offered a hand wash while you are still sitting and a clean towel be given to wash hands and mouth. Once finished the host will put a tilak on your forehead and offer you a rupee coin as dakshina. A rupee was lot of money in mid sixties that could fetch you an equivalent to 20 "amma-ke-bade" or more. More than the food we would look forward to this happiest ending. As we never got any pocket money ( we were told that we don't need any money on us and all our "needs and demands" will get fulfilled when asked for, the fact was that, that never happened). We felt like VIPs in those fifteen days.

This trend reduced a lot as we reached our adolescent age and later also when we moved to a large city Indore, where we knew only few people who were  far and spread across the city. However, I had couple of Bania friends in my class in the final year of school and their families would insist on following the same, so the feasting continued for some more years.

Oh! How much I miss those feasts and godly importance of having born in a brahmin family.

(Representative picture downloaded from Internet).

Sanawda - a small village

Sanawda was a tiny village in Betma's neighbourhood, I have no idea how small but in those days I had not seen a village smaller than this. May not have more than 100 houses with no other government institution other than a primary school. That had just one teacher and perhaps 40 or 50 students comprising of all classes from 1st to 5th. My father was transferred from another village called Kanvan that was nearly 50 kilometers from Betma. He sought this transfer to attend to his father who had retired from the Holkar State service some 20 years back and used to live all alone since Dadi, like my Nani, lived in god's abode. None of us, me and my siblings, her grandchildren saw them. I am sure it must have been tough for Dadaji to live alone since Dadi departed. When father for transferred to Sanawda, Dadaji must have reached 75 but he was hale and hearty and used to manage his own chores. However, I don't remember us spending much time with him before we moved to Betma the nearest "connected" village from Sanawda with some basic facilities for transport, civil dispensary, police station, higher secondary school, shops for daily needs, cloth merchants, pharmacy, jewelers etc., reason being whenever we had long vacations we would go to Nani's. Bua and her children may have been coming to live with Dadaji during summer vacation but our cousins and his grandchildren were much older than us so I suppose they also may have stopped coming there few years back.

When we moved to Betma in 1964, there was no electricity in the village, it had been sanctioned and work was in progress to install street lights and some well to do people were preparing to wire up their houses to get connections when the wires got energised, that must have happened in the year that followed. When the rush was over we also got our connection in the house and were very excited and thanked Thomas Alva Edison ( though name to this godly person was known to me much later). Ghamu Da was quite enterprising and seeing the opportunity he trained himself as to how to do wiring and used to wire up houses with the help of Damu and some other people he kept on temporary rolls. There were two types of wiring, one was open and another was concealed. In the close wiring you would use an inch wide wooden cover and hide the wires beneath, it that had another wooden piece of the same width nailed to the wall. The open wiring had half an inch wide single piece of wood and wires would be placed on it using metal clips. I knew all this because like helping them sell tea and cold drinks at bus stand I also used to watch them do wiring installation work and give them nails, wires etc. when they stood on stools or ladders to fix wooden strips that would conceal or just be a base for wires.

Till mid -1966 we used to study under the lalten ( lantern) that consumed kerosene that was called ghaslet then, like you see in the old Hindi movies. We couldn't go out and sit under street lamps as also shown in those movies since there were no electrified street lamps and I don't remember any kind of street lamps lit by any alternative mode at all in the village. One could barely see while walking on the roads after it got dark by using a torch or often a lalten. Should you have neither you need to be careful and make do with little light coming from people's homes. By then I had graduated from primary school and had joined or would be joining the middle school that was on the main highway just before the bus stand, unlike the primary that was in the heart of the village.

Those days a teacher in villages was literally worshiped unlike how we see them today. A school teacher called Maad sa'ab( crude/corrupted word for Master sa'ab). Smaller the village lesser you found educated people who could even read or write and generally you would find the children studying in schools are the first generation learners. So maad sa'ab would do many things besides  just teaching.. like reading the letters received or writing the letters they wanted to send. People will look up to maad sa'ab for getting current affairs news of kasba, tehsil, district, state and the world. Maad sa'ab would also be teaching them moral values and unless you are a crooked person you would listen to him intently and follow what he said. Maad sa'ab's family would also be kept in high esteem and people would jump at any opportunity to host them. 

Those were the days when father didn't even have a bicycle and would walk some 1 to 1 1/2 Kos ( 3-4 Kms) each way to  school. A Kos was a unit of distance that was equal to 2 miles. There was no motorable road from Betma to Sanawda and the only relief to your feet at times was when a bullock cart was going your way. In monsoon the road will be muddy and under the water at times cutting off the destination and villages on the way. So during monsoon half the time the school would be closed or when in school, father would stay with someone in the village if it was impossible to walk back. During the harvesting season be it in winters when it was time for rabi crops like wheat or chana or the summer crop like maize, jowar, baajra etc. Sugarcane is one crop that would come in any season.. it is sown in three seasons and it takes nearly 18 months, so people used to sow it in different seasons but in those days we saw the crop maturing during monsoon, same time as maize and jawar. We never saw soya or even paddy.. soya was a new word in the country ( at least for me). Malwa was not right place for paddy.. first time I saw paddy field may have been in my twenties or so. Malwa is also known to be very fertile with its black soil. For our entire childhood we didn't know of any other colour of soil and only other soil we used to see was a  beige colour soil that was used for washing hair before mother (and other women) applied amla sikakai. There was no concept of what we call shampoo now. We would be treated with fresh crop produce in the fields be it green wheat (umbi) or green gram (chhod) in winters and makka (maize) bhuttas freshly roasted over dried branches available in the field. It used to so tasty and the process especially that of removing jawar pearls from the bhutta/cob was fascinating. 

Sugarcane/eikh/ganna was also grown in abundance in between the fields that had maize or jawar during monsoon crop. Since there was no sugar-mill in the vicinity most sugarcane growers would use sugarcane juice to make gur ( jaggery). This process was also very fascinating. You would take out juice of sugarcane using a small crusher that would be rotated using oxen sometimes one and some other two. During the season, at least two or three times we would be invited by locals in Sanawda who treated us to start with fresh sugarcane juice filtered and enhanced in the taste by squeezing lemon juice over it. While you drink this, you will be served freshly roasted maize cobs (makke ka bhutta)/ or jowar pearls. Before you finish that, freshly made hot gur/ jaggery will be served to you on a leaf. Gur is made by boiling sugarcane juice in a huge flat metal vessel, it takes 3-4 hours for juice to solidify to become gur and you have to constantly stir the vessel and mix some additives that removes impurity that is taken out constantly. The taste of fresh gur is just wow! something out of this world. As urban dweller it is difficult for you to imagine that until you taste it. 

On one monsoon day when it appeared it won't rain three of us and father walked to Sanawda to be guest of the village head in his farm. We were full to the head and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly with all the savories ( roasted stuff, juice and fresh gur) that it was difficult for us to even get up and walk. When we were leaving for home we were also given a small vessel full of sugarcane juice, besides fresh gur and bhuttas to be taken home for further consumption, especially to have sweet rice cooked in the juice, a delicacy. 

We must have left the village around 4.00pm and started walking home.. half way home it started raining with thunders and then pouring with such intensity that the small metalled/ gravel road was full of water and mud flowing at the bottom and soon the water level was nearly 3 feet as there was nowhere water could flow but on the road. I must have been little over 4 feet at that time. All of us were also carrying something or other given to us by our host and I had the juice in a container carried on my head.  It was tough walking the road and it was getting dark, somehow we reached home and when I handed the juice over to mother for making sugarcane juice rice, she couldn't believe that on such a rainy day, I managed to get it safe.

 Reprentatice pictures downloaded from Internet.

Anant Chaudas Ki Jhanki

In our childhood schools used to open on July 1st after two months long vacation. As such we didn't have classes after March since April was the month of exams which would invariably get over by middle of the month so as such it was a three month long holiday but since parents had to worry about the results which was the yardstick of your performance through the year and results would be declared on April 30th, the official vacation time was only two months and not three.

Of those two months at least one and half would be spent in nani's house in Dewas and reluctantly we will be back about a week before reopening of the school. That would also mark end of summer as monsoon rains would start in Malwa towards the last week of June. Weather would turn from pleasant to very pleasant although as kids we would never mind any weather. However, sadly the time for aamras, that was part of all our summer meals would be over by then. July would also offer excitement of new class and give feeling of growing up by sitting in a class higher than when schools had shut two months back.  Sometimes there will new faces also joining the class and meeting new friends would have its own excitement. Some teachers would also be new in the new class and we always hoped that they would not be strict and will be good to us. You will have to impress them again to have impression of a good student. Although it was not common but not rare as well when you are asked to leave the class and stand outside.. don't know whether it would be called standing or sitting but the pose you were asked to keep was that of a "murga", right at the entry door of the classroom for the whole class to see.. it would be big distraction for the students sitting in the class that teacher would not notice as all the students will be looking at me and someone else, if I had the luxury of a company in that pose, rather than the blackboard.  As such I was a sincere student and would get punished by someone else's mischief. In the hindsight I think that was a practice that made me do yoga without any pain in later life. 

Savan /Shravan is the month when monsoon will be at its peak and it would usually start in middle of July. Mondays of the month had their own religious importance that we hardly cared but every Savan Monday was a picnic day. There would be four and sometimes five Mondays in Savan ( सावन सोमवार). On these Mondays mother, me, our friends and their mothers would go out to Balaji temple on the outskirts of the village on a potluck picnic. While mothers did Puja in the temple we would be swinging on the rope/ rassi-jhulas that were tied over several pipal and bad (बड़)/banyan trees. Next to the temple was a rivulet that would be flowing with full water during monsoon and when it rained heavy, it would get flooded and the road would go under giving a visual pleasure to villagers ( although commuters will be cursing).. it would be like a Mela in those days when the rivulet overflowed. That phenomenon was called (puer/पूर or flooding). We didn't care whether it rained or not out picnics were always "on" on Savan Somwaars. I am not sure but I think this used to happen outside the school timings or I won't be surprised if we were given short leaves from schools. This was like continuation of our holiday/joy season.

Between July till March, that is almost the full time that school was in session we have one festival or other in India. Rarely a week will pass when there is no festival that we celebrated. Savan will culminate into rakhee and eight days later there would be janamashtmi, 12 days after that would be Ganesh Chaturthi and 10 days later there will Ganapati Visarjan ( Anant Chatursashi/chaudas) and so on and so forth until mid to end March with Holi. From Ganesh Chaturthi to Anant Chatursashi/chaudas all 10 days is a big Ganesh festival across the country especially in Maharashtra and western Madhya Pradesh. ( In those days outside these two states the fervour was not such in other states, thanks to Bollywood that glamourised these festivities and now entire country celebrates these festivals with similar enthusiasm). 

Indian freedom fighter Bal Gangadhar Tilak championed this large scale Ganesh utsav as a means to circumvent the colonial British government ban on Hindu gatherings through its anti-public assembly legislation in 1892. Since then the 10 day festivity culminating into a big procession running through the city marked the end of the festival. Pune was the first city to have these huge processions with tableaus on relevant topics mounted on large vehicles.

Indore adopted this in time immemorial, soon after Pune and no one told me when, but ever since I was remember I had heard about these processions in Indore. Indore was one of the main textile centres of the country. I think it had largest number of textile mills after Ahmedabad and Bombay, unlike Pune that had no textile mill worth mentioning. Every textile mill had its tableaus in these processions and each mill will have about a dozen or more exhibit mounted on different vehicles. Each one will be on some theme or other that would be a message on current social or political subject or statues of several gods and goddesses including Lord Ganesha whose idol will be immersed next morning with loud chants "ganapati bappa moriya" (oh lord! we worship you as our father) in some localities people would add "pudhachya varshi laukar ya" (come soon again next year). The whole city will turn into an exhibition ground and people will queue up on both sides of the route and also on the windows and terraces from 4.00pm onwards that would be not less than 10 kilometer long from start to finish, although the first jhanki/ tableau of Hukumchand Mills will come to Jail Road not earlier than 10.00pm and the last one of Swadeshi Mills between 4.00am and 5.00am depending on how smoothly the procession went. Ahead of every set of tableau there would be a team of dancers, some with lejhims and some other with different kind of bells, dhols and other musical instruments. They will stop at every 300-400 meters and gyrate with full energy. This will allow people to enjoy not just their dances but also look at the tableaus closely.  Entire route will be barricaded with ropes and volunteers of different mohalla committees will be monitoring the discipline of the crowd. This will also be chance for mobile vendors to sell various wares not just food. There would also be some food stalls and other souvenirs in by-lanes. Overall this was a huge festival for Indore city where people would come not just from the city but from nearby villages and towns as far as 60-100 Kilometers with their families especially small children. Usually this day would come in September sometime in the beginning and in some others a bit later in the month depending on hindu calendar. Besides Pune and Indore the only other major city where the entire city would celebrate this immersion is Bombay (now Mumbai). One could always debate whether it started first in Indore or in Bombay to celebrate at such large scale. But Bombay till date doesn't have the tableau procession on this day.. they just have large statues from various festival committees usually crowding around Chaupati where often the crowd will be unmanageable and stampedes would cause accidents, some fatal, every year.

I was 10 and had not seen this "must see" event till then and the curiosity was building every year with parents promising us to take to Indore . From Betma whoever could go to Indore, went, and returned the next morning. All the buses that plied on that route as well as some "tempos", (a large three wheeler passenger vehicle that had a capacity to carry 10 people but often would have 40 or more people on such occasions, would be packed to the brim. 

That year a few weeks before the ganesh chaturdashi day, I had overheard some older friends planning to go to Indore to see the jhanki, this was the time to quench the curiosity that was building up since many years. So, I told one group that I will also join them, no one knew at home what was going on on my mind and these friends who had planned this visit, did not want to take any additional responsibility but they didn't say so. Come the day and I was home and saw this group moving towards bus stand that's when I realised they may be planning to ditch me. I wasn't even ready.. I quickly dressed up and ran towards the bus stand but that may have taken 10 minutes or so and I saw them boarding a bus, from a distance, that was ready to head in Indore's direction. Seeing me I suppose they told driver to move immediately and before I could reach the door to enter, the bus had started moving with the speed I couldn't catch. I saw my friends in the bus and shouted at them asking them to stop the bus to take me.. but they obviously had other plans and gestured at me as if it is the bus conductor who has taken off and they can do nothing about it. I ran and ran after the bus hoping it to stop someplace to allow me to board. I must have run for over 2 kilometers till the next village but by then I couldn't see them. Angry and crying profusely and also exhausted with my sprint run, I sat down.. it was still daylight just about 3.00pm or so. After a while dejected, I started walking home taking my shattered dreams with me to fulfil next year.  

Pictures downloaded from Internet public domain.