Mesdi Reminisces

My Recollections of Dadu

I saw Dadu from a distance and rarely had any meaningful conversation with him. Still I knew him as the big banyan tree, under whose shadow we were safe and secure. Dadu was short, not muscular but had a solid body. He was a believer in Gandhijee’s ideology of Swadeshi. He spun charkha in his leisure time and wore dhuti made of yarn, which he spun himself. In my adolescent years if I idolized any one, it was Dadu. 

As Didi has said, we were turbulent and unruly. I remember that sharp rebuke – “Aaah!”, when we were too much to endure and also that disarming child like smile when we behaved as good children.  

While going to M.G. College, haggling with the rikshawalla, we (Ila and I) quite often came upon Dadu, who would be returning home from office for his second stint in MacRobert Gunj dispensary. He would quickly come over to us, have a talk with the rikshawalla and note down his name and rikshaw number. So concerned was he about our safety. Would anyone believe that I saw my first cinema at age 16 - when Dadu took us to Regal Talkies to show a Satyajit Ray film and give us exposure to good cinema?! 

Dadu had kept track of my educational progress. It was the year when I was supposed to appear for my board exams. My study leave had been announced and Dadu had asked me for my exam schedule. He kept a copy with him and came to our house the previous evening to remind me of the exam scheduled for the next morning. It was Dadu who took me to the exam centre, waited till I had found my seat, and then came back home and reported to Ma – “tomar meye ke boshiye diye eshchee”. I could never forget this, even though I could never be chummy with him.  

Dadu usually came to our house in the evening, when he had to discuss something with Ma. If Baba came in front of him, we witnessed a very amusing sight – Baba playing ‘hide and seek’, quite in a trap – where to hide his cigarette! Sometimes we alerted him “Dadu ashche!!” Then he would quickly stub out his cigarette. 

I had an evening duty - to make paan which Baba and Ma chewed after dinner. In our khabar ghor there was a ‘mitsafe’, on top of which all the ingredients for paan were kept along with a brass paaner baata. Very often while I was making paan, Dadu would enter our house from the back door. He would stop in front of me and we used to have some kind of interaction like this…. 

Ki korchish? 

Hmmm (only a smile) 

Ekta khabo? 

Smile 

Ta hole ekta de…. 

Dadu, supuri dobo? 

Na. 

Chun khoyer? 

Hain de.

I would make a special paan for Dadu with mouri and elachi without supari which Dadu would accept like a mischievous boy indulging in some guilty pleasure. After I started wearing sari, I could be passed off as a civilized person. He looked at me as if blessing me with his eyes. There was no need of much conversation between us. Perhaps his thoughts went back to the time when I was about to die. The story as I heard from Ma was like this - 

I had given Ma much labour pangs, sweat, and tears before seeing the light of the day. Once things became normal and seeing me quite hale and hearty, Dadu decided to undertake his much postponed tour of Kolkata, giving charge of our house to Ismail, his compounder. 

It was a hot summer month. Loo was lashing the plains of U.P. with full vigour. I was heat struck and developed high fever. Ismail compounder was called but in vain. He could not bring the fever down. I lay almost senseless and listless. An SOS was sent to Dadu. Dadu hurried back home cutting his visit short. He took me under his treatment. After sunset, our front yard was sprinkled with water till it cooled down. A cot was spread and a bed was made, on which I lay with an ice bag on my head till the wee hours of the morning. It took some time to bring the fever under control. Once the crisis was averted, Dadu quipped, “meyeta ke to merei phele diye chile”.

1 Comment so far
Leave a comment