Sometimes one gets to hear of a child
being born during a long flight. Those
taking birth while on flight too have no
option other than to descend to earth.
Soil is the first and last resort of the human body.
The birth of human being is well
coordinated. Only the Almighty knows
where in this vast expanse of the earth one shall be born. One may be conceived in the mothers womb at
one place but be born at a completely different place.
No other land in this whole world drew me
towards it. I was destined to be born in Khurma Gram – Shunamganj Zila in present day Bangladesh (earlier a part
Sylhet zila)
The entire Sylhet Zila was indeed blessed to have had Chaitanya Maharabhus Lotus feet touch its soil and Peer Shahjalal’s duas resound in its very
atmosphere. Later Shunamganj and Sylhet
became well known because of Hasanraja. His Songs and poems became popular in entire Bengal . My motherland Khurma is a tiny village of this Zila . The village most probably came into existence
200 years ago and has been the home of both Hindus and Muslims. The Muslims are
in majority and are either farmers or farm workers. However both communities
have forever been living in peace and Harmony.
This Harmony was seen even in the days of the partition and in the
1950’s as there was no communal discord or violence even then. The village was at a distance from the city
but the connecting roads were moderately good.
During the monsoon season paddy
fields and all lakes and ponds used to be flooded with water. At such times the
only mode of transport in the village was of boats and banana leaves.
Our village had a full fledged
school,an English medium middle school
and a post office which was not there in
many of our neighbouring villages. At
the end of the village boundary was a hospital which was run by a local body of the neighbouring village. The
role of supervision of this hospital was vested on our village. Many patients
from far off places used to come for treatment at this hospital. In those days
Khurma was considered to be a progressive village.
The ancestral deity of this village was Gobindoji.
The Asan Bedi ( Sanctum)is at the base of a tree. In our village all auspicious occasions and
family celebrations began after offering prayers at Gobindojis sanctum
sanctorum and singing of hymns of the LORD. Ladies would begin their daily
chores after offering prayers at the
Rooposhi Tala area at a corner in the Courtyard. I was born on the evening ofDol poornima ( Holi) at a house which was adjacent to this
sacred land.
My first breath took in the air of this
village. Its water quenched my first
thirst. It was on this holy land that I rolled and turned, crawled, walked and
ran. I gained my knowledge of alphabets at the school of Khurma. The only teacher at this school was Maulvi Majrul Hak. He dealt with his students in the most affectionate
manner. For all the students (both boys and girls) he was the teacher who could be approached for all their demands
and wishes. It was with the help of the
knowledge imparted by Maulviji that I passed my 10th std examination from the English Medium middle school of my
village.
The only graduate at that time in our village
was Nalini Chakraborty – the son of our ancestral priest Jaladhar Chakroborty. He was not drawn away from the village by any
lucrative job. He joined the middle
school of the village as the head teacher. In the neighbouring village
Mohodi, Rajni Nath was the evergreen poet. Very often we witnessed debate
sessions between Nalini and Rajani. Most
of the debates between these two learned scholars revolved around religious
matters. Swayed by competitive
spirit the two would often taunt
each other about ignorance and inability .Within minutes they would compose
poems to outdo each other.
The debates over the different chapters
( Khandas) of Ramayana and Mahabharata
would enliven the village environment.
In those days the sanctum of Govindoji was
the epicentre of all auspicious occasions of the society. Every evening during the
month of October ( Kartik ) , namkirtan ( hyms in the name of the Lord Krishna)
was sung at social gatherings. Each family would make contributions for the arrangements of Harinaam and Hariloot ( Prasad). On
several special occasions namkirtan used to go on nightlong for five to six
days. Even devotees of the neighbouring villages used to partake in the
festivities. Shri Krishna Leela ( Story
of Lord Krishna’s life) constituted a
very important aspect of the daily life
of the villagers. The central figure of
all festivities at our village was Krishna – Chaitanya.
I was very young at that time, too young
and too ignorant to understand the meaning and depth of the Kirtan. However the pleasant notes satiated my senses.
It aroused deep within me a sense
of and devotion and faith which was hitherto unknown and
unrecognized. Nearly fifteen kilometres from our village was Jagannathpur
Village. The local resident , Rai
pariwar’s magnanimity helped set up the English Higher Secondary School in 1946. I
completed my studies upto class IX from this school . Thereafter, upto 1952 I
resided in Sylhet City. I passed my Matric Exam from an aided High School in 1950 and completed my intermediate exam from Moorarichad College in 1952. Thereafter I
left East Pakistan.
Twenty
years later.......
After the birth of Bangladesh as a new
nation, I once again got the opportunity to visit Sylhet in 1972. I was assigned the responsibility of
distributing relief material. I stayed
there for almost six months at a stretch.
During my stay I visited Khurma Village, the place of my birth twice. I also
distributed some relief material at my village. I don’t remember the date of my
first visit , maybe it was August or September. It was the monsoon season. On the official vehicle I travelled on
semi constructed road from Sylhet to Shunamganj, upto Jauyaar bazaar. Thereafter I took a boat to continue my
onward journey. Very soon after this dusk fell.
As I crossed Chaulihar the un-
penetrable darkness of Amabashya night descended upon us. At this time we had to
cross a very narrow muddy stream. On
both sides were scattered human habitat. The light from the lanterns
appeared to be peeping in from the
bushes and trees of the forest area. It
seemed as though the lights were being switched on and switched off continually
. Soon it began to rain. I had no idea as to whom I would find in my
village. I had to return within an hour. I thought of handing over the relief
material to the Maulvi so that the same may be distributed by him.
A mesmerizing Experience Face to Face ----
How much further I have to go, I wondered.
I asked the boatman to stop rowing the boat. To get an idea of just where I was
I came out of the thatching (chauni) of the boat. To my amazement I found that
I was facing Gobindojis sanctum which was just at a little distance away. An
unknown sense of deep happiness and enchantment encaptivated me and my body
quivered with emotion at this transcendental happening.. How wonderful is this Divine Play( Leela) of
Govindoji. My first sight of my village was his very Lotus Feet. I did not
understand on that day, nor did I imagine that The Lords Tree – worshipped as
Gobindoji would in future give us another example of
supernatural divine play.
The last visit to my birthplace was towards
the end of 1996. My wife Bandana
accompanied me during this visit. The love and affection I had received
from my village folk had helped me
transcend many hardships on the road of life. This visit of mine was in a sense
a thanksgiving visit for me. I had informed village headmen in advance about my
visit. Through them I collected some updated information about my village including
information about the monthly income of the residents .
Population – 1056, No. of Families 171 ,
Middle Class Family 57, Poor and Labour Class
118. Family members from five
families are teachers at the local
school and government servants. No. of
Houses – 150, Concrete Buildings:
10, Houses with Tin Thatching : 110,
Huts of Mud and Hay : 60
The deprived section of villagers –
women and the elderly were essentially labour class.
In this land with only marginal differences there were 115 families ( 569members) of poor and labour class. To each family member I gave Rs.350 each and
therefore distributed Rs.39,000/=. Maybe
they had never received such a
large sum of money on a single day . Joy and happiness was writ on their faces
and the entire ambience was of joy and mirth.
The tidal wave of blessings for
my wife and myself continued unabated for a long time. I cannot describe the deep sense of fulfilment
which I experienced in the last moments that I spent in my village as words
fail me in describing such an
overwhelming experience.
From the assembly of people, l I once again
went to bow my head in reverence of Gobindoji.
The ancient of mosque of the village was within the Courtyard of the
residential quarter of the Maulvi. A new mosque was being constructed. When I
expressed my desire to make a small
contribution by way of paying for some
bricks, it was readily accepted .
In the early part of the 20th
Century there were 50 Hindu Families in Khurma . Now there are only 10 Hindu
families residing in Khurma. The Sanctum
of Govindoji has worn off in parts .
There had been no repairs for several years and the road leading towards it has
been usurped. I discussed the reconstruction of road and re- establishment of Sanctum
with some of the villagers. At my Birth place, a new family was living after making it their home. Having left the house for ever I did not long
to know who resided there now. A Muslim woman
came to me on her own accord and introduced herself, further saying that
whenever we decide to return to our land they would immediately relinquish their
claim. I returned after reassuring her
that she may stay there permanently without nurturing any fear whatsoever.
More than 100 villagers followed us up to
quite a great distance. There was a deep
sense of amazement and excitement in
their gaze and expression as they showered their blessings on us. Putting
my birthplace into the realm /docket
of my dreams and
memories I began my return
journey towards Dhaka.
In connection of my work
I resided in Dhaka from 1995. In January 1997 , I sent Rs 5000/ to a
well known Hindu resident of Khurma
Village. A few months later at the end of my
Mission Contract in Bangladesh I returned to Delhi.
Twelve years have elapsed since then. One of my relatives Sh. Shubhash Choudhury
who lives in Silchar ( Assam) visited Kurma along with his son in 2009 and
spent a few hours there. The purpose of this was to visit his
birthplace and connect his highly
educated and well established son to his
roots. He was unaware of my earlier
visits to the village. Both prior to and
after expressing his desire to offer prayers at the sanctum of Gobindoji , he
heard a story related to the sacred tree
from the village folk. I had sent money
to a Hindu resident to rebuild the sanctum of Gobindoji. To fulfill his petty needs , swayed by
greed he tried to cut the sacred holy
tree. As he began felling the tree from
the spot which had been struck by the axe blood began oozing out almost like
juice.
Subhash had no desire to know about
the date, year, time or the
witnesses of this great misdeed as he did not wish to keep such a painful thing in his memory. His ancestors had cut themselves off from all attachment to their birthplace several years ago. Within a few days of this dastardly act the Hindu
man lost his wife, one son , the second son became mentally disturbed and he
himself became bed ridden. Everyone in
the village believes that his great suffering is due to the great curse which
has befallen him because of his evil misdeed.
If anyone else ever goes to visit their
birthplace in Khurma - or if anyone from
that country comes to our country in
near or distant future – the story of
this event being recorded here will be awaiting them.
