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7/29/2019 Gluttony. bengali dalit stpry http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/gluttony-bengali-dalit-stpry 1/5 Gluttony Bi malendu Hal dar Sree Charan’s son was Prellad, and Pr ellad’s son was Gobindo. The Gobindos were Kayers. Kayer meaning Kahars. The word has changed to Kayer in the common tongue. Earlier, they were palanquin-bearers. Bearers of wedding palanquins, the zamindar’s palanquins. Even the nouveau riche would travel on palanquins then,- would get their wives home in palanquins.  Nowadays, though, palanquins are no longer used. So they have taken to farming, or to working as hired help i n people’s homes. Gobindo went one level higher. He worked under the master- artisan. Every morning, after having a plate of  paanta rice, 1 he went out with a small jute bag on his arm. In the bag was a tin of beedis, 2 a match box, a thin towel, and a torn lungi 3 . He took the train from the Mathropur station and got down either at Sonarpur or at Baruipur- wherever the artisan told him to. By the time he finished his work, the evening had moved on and it was almost dusk. Some days, it would be late in the night. This morning found Gobindo sitting at a corner of the open space in front of their kitchen. He sat and stared at the sky. Then he stared at the trees around him. A crow sat on the corner tree and cawed itself hoarse. He observed the crow attentively. Then he stared for some time at the  pond in front. Finally, he turned his gaze on his wife Manti, and broke into a grin. The sky seemed strangely still, with a bulky belly. Just like his wife Manti. Manti was ten months pregnant. Any day now her time would come. The sky seemed about to break out too. Gobindo didn’t feel very well. The clouded skies had irritated him. He didn’t feel like going to work today. But if he didn’t go to work, he would not get his daily ration of food. What was he to do? Manti brought him his plate full of  paanta rice with onions and chilly. Gobindo had  paanta everyday before he left for work. Returned late. Today he would take the three o’clock local train and get down at the Mathurapur station, from where he would walk all this distance. It would take a long time. But he didn’t mind that . He was in no hurry. After getting down from the train, he would walk along the Kattara pond, along the mango orchard of the Mallick’s, then  by the bamboo groves and, glancing to this side and the other, would wend his way towards home. Once Gobindo went out to work, his wife Manti put the latch up on the door and started out. She would hunt around and gather various greens like water spinach, kshude keshto and natbine. If she didn’t find these, she would get some of the lesser greens like kulpo shujni, or  gime saag , 1  Cooked rice, soaked and left to ferment overnight. A common meal in rural eastern India, it is known as pakhla  bhaat in Orissa and as poitabhaat in Assam. 2  Beedi is a tobacco rolled in a dry leaf. It is cheaper than cigarettes and known as the poor man’s cigar.  3  A sarong worn around the waist by men in South and South-East Asia.

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Gluttony

Bimalendu Haldar 

Sree Charan’s son was Prellad, and Pr ellad’s son was Gobindo. The Gobindos were Kayers.

Kayer meaning Kahars. The word has changed to Kayer in the common tongue. Earlier, theywere palanquin-bearers. Bearers of wedding palanquins, the zamindar’s palanquins. Even the

nouveau riche would travel on palanquins then,- would get their wives home in palanquins.

 Nowadays, though, palanquins are no longer used. So they have taken to farming, or to working

as hired help in people’s homes. Gobindo went one level higher. He worked under the master-

artisan. Every morning, after having a plate of  paanta rice,1

he went out with a small jute bag on

his arm. In the bag was a tin of beedis,2

a match box, a thin towel, and a torn lungi3. He took the

train from the Mathropur station and got down either at Sonarpur or at Baruipur- wherever the

artisan told him to. By the time he finished his work, the evening had moved on and it was

almost dusk. Some days, it would be late in the night.

This morning found Gobindo sitting at a corner of the open space in front of their kitchen. He

sat and stared at the sky. Then he stared at the trees around him. A crow sat on the corner tree

and cawed itself hoarse. He observed the crow attentively. Then he stared for some time at the

 pond in front. Finally, he turned his gaze on his wife Manti, and broke into a grin.

The sky seemed strangely still, with a bulky belly. Just like his wife Manti. Manti was ten

months pregnant. Any day now her time would come. The sky seemed about to break out too.

Gobindo didn’t feel very well. The clouded skies had irritated him. He didn’t feel like going to

work today. But if he didn’t go to work, he would not get his daily ration of food. What was he

to do? Manti brought him his plate full of  paanta rice with onions and chilly. Gobindo had paanta everyday before he left for work. Returned late. Today he would take the three o’clock 

local train and get down at the Mathurapur station, from where he would walk all this distance. It

would take a long time. But he didn’t mind that. He was in no hurry. After getting down from

the train, he would walk along the Kattara pond, along the mango orchard of the Mallick’s, then

 by the bamboo groves and, glancing to this side and the other, would wend his way towards

home.

Once Gobindo went out to work, his wife Manti put the latch up on the door and started out. She

would hunt around and gather various greens like water spinach, kshude keshto and natbine. If 

she didn’t find these, she would get some of the lesser greens like kulpo shujni, or  gime saag ,

1 Cooked rice, soaked and left to ferment overnight. A common meal in rural eastern India, it is known as pakhla

 bhaat in Orissa and as poitabhaat in Assam.

2 Beedi is a tobacco rolled in a dry leaf. It is cheaper than cigarettes and known as the poor man’s cigar.  

3 A sarong worn around the waist by men in South and South-East Asia.

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thalkul , mite, himche, kochor . If those too were hard to come by, she would collect some

drumstick leaves from the Ghosh’s garden. At times, she would manage to steal a banana, or a

radish or a brinjal from someone-or-the-other’s land. Then she would boil these with some salt

and gulp them down. People said she was a glutton. And that her gluttony had lately increased.

She had a child inside her now. Her man could hardly give her enough to eat, and so she drooled

day and night. Manti did not pay much attention to all this talk. She focused on her own work.

The family was hers. What good would it do her to listen to people? She knew all about

Gobindo’s prowess.

Rubbing the chilly well into the paanta rice, Gobindo began to slurp it down noisily, pausing at

times for bites on the onion. The rains began. He looked up once to curse the sky. Manti sat

leaning on the bamboo post of the verandah. As he looked up, Gobindo caught sight of Manti

staring at him.

-Ei, why you looking at me like that?

- Looking.

-Looking? What are you looking at?

- Not feeling well, you said. But one full plate of  paanta with onions and chillies you gulp down

quick enough.

- What is that to you, you bitch? Do I eat on your father’s money?

- My father’s a poor man. If he had money, he would not have hung me around your useless

neck.

- Stop nagging. Get to your work. I’m not going out today. 

- Oh, I know that.

Manti stood up. She picked up the plate with her left hand, swept up the spilled rice grains with

her right, and carried the plate to the kitchen. The rains had eased a bit, though the rainwater still

rolled over their tin roof and fell in a stream. The storm too was passing over. Manti washed her 

hands in the rainwater and wiped them on her aanchal . There was a packet hanging behind the

curtain. She put that on her head as a cover. On seeing her preparing to go out, Gobindo

 bellowed,

-Where you going?

- To the Mollah’s fort. 

-What do you want there?

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- The pond in the fort is full of Koi and Magur fish4. In these rains, they’ll all be coming up. I’ll

go catch a few. Will get us some money if we can sell them.

- That place’s a jungle. Snakes are all over the place. You want to go there for some money?

Why’re you such a glutton?

-Well, so I am a glutton. Why can’t you earn some more then? Then I won’t need to be such a

glutton.

- Why, don’t I earn?

- Ah yes, sackfulls of money! So exactly how much do you get?

- As much as the rate is for an assistant,- sixty rupees.

- So how much in hand?

-The craftsman takes his ten, the party takes ten too for their fund, or they won’t let us work, thetiffin costs ten. Then about five for paan and bidis .

- And how much for the toddy?

- Oh a little of that is needed. After all that hard work, my whole body aches. I couldn’t pull

along without a little.

- Yesterday you gave me fifteen rupees. That’s about what you give me everyday- twelve or 

fifteen rupees. You think that money is enough to buy rice, salt, oil, vegetables? You cleaned up

the rice just now. So what am I to eat? Do you see any grain left in the pot?

- And how will I know? You’re already done gulping your stuff.

- What does fifteen rupees get you, you jerk? After swallowing a bucket full of rice last night,

how much rice do you think can be left? And what a stomach- a kilo of rice is as little as snuff.

The more I want to keep my mouth shut, he’ll make me talk . So why don’t you go? Go, get lost!

Go to your folks! Let them come and run this beggar’s house. My greed, my hunger!

- Ei, don’t bring my folks into it, you bitch. I’ll get you otherwise. 

- Try getting me, you bugger. I have the billhook in my hand. Will satisfy all your yearnings for 

lives to come.

- Ei ei! What’s all this? And what am I to do? If all the money flows out from all sides, how on

earth do I hold the lot in?

4The climbing perch fish and the walking catfish, respectively.

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- Why must you pay the party fund every day?

- Listen woman, they won’t let us work in the locality otherwise!

- And just what good does the party do me?

- How do I know that?

- Last season those goons from that place beat you up. Did your party save you then?

- Oh they’re all the same. All in cahoots with each other. If they see a poor man, they squeeze

him dry. Don’t I know! 

- Forget it. I’m off to the Fort’s pond. Fish or whatever I get, you are taking it to the market.

And let’s not argue about that.

Manti was otherwise a quiet girl. But once angry, she would get aggressive and violent. Sensing

trouble, Gobindo wilted like puffed rice sprinkled with water.

The rain was a drizzle now as Manti went out. She took with her the billhook and a gunny bag.

Mollahs’ Fort was outside the village. The place was overgrown with a jungle of bamboo,

sheora5

and the karamcha6

trees. Unusually dark even during the day, the area was darker now

with the overcast sky. Not a ray of sunshine got through. It was as if someone had wiped the

soot off the rice pots and smeared it all around. Thorny bushes and weeds formed a tangled mass

that caught at her legs. A tiny throb of fear clutched at her heart. But she braced herself and went

forward. There was no use going back. Not a grain of rice was left in the house. To add to the

 problem, her man had not gone to work today. How would she run the house? The sudden rains

today had been lucky. If she managed to catch a score or so of fish, her job was done. They couldsell it off at the Purandarpuri bazaar. Fish were going at a high price now. If they could sell right,

it would be enough to take care of their needs for three days.

Oh Oh! The fish could be seen glittering in the sunshine on the waters near the Fort’s pond! The

koi fish were trying to get out of the water and up on the land. The magur went round in dizzy

circles on the grass. Manti caught them up and pushed them inside her sack as fast as she could.

Suddenly she felt a sharp bite on her hand. She snatched up her hand. It burnt. Blood was oozing

out. No more fishing today. Manti clutched the sack and the billhook to her chest and turned

home.

The rain hadn’t stopped. The drizzle continued. Manti could feel a wobbly sensation spreading

through her limbs. Her arms and legs felt strangely numb, and her head was beginning to ache.

5 rum berry tree

6 carronda trees 

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Was it the child that moved in her stomach? Perhaps. Gobindo sat at the threshold puffing on his

 beedi and looking up at the sky from time to time. He caught sight of Manti creeping along like

an ant, the sack clutched to her chest, her hand with the billhook pressed to her stomach.

The entire courtyard was muddy. Straw and peelings lay scattered around. Before Gobindo could

get up from where he was squatting, Manti collapsed on the ground. The sack fell out of her hands. The rainwater still rolled down the tin roof in a long stream, but the rains had stopped.

The fish, escaping from the sack, thrashed about on this water.

By the time Gobindo came running up, Manti was already foaming at the mouth. Her head had

fallen forward. Gobindo held his hand under her nose. No, not a breath. What was he to do now?

 Not finding anything else to do, Gobindo began to pick up the fish and put them back into the

sack.

The people from the village had crowded around. Poor thing, they said. The poor girl was too

greedy for her own good, they said to each other.

It was now late in the night. Not a sound anywhere. All the villagers were asleep. Gobindo had

 been lying on the courtyard huddled in a blanket. He got up now. Lifting up his head, he saw

Manti’s dead body lying as she had fallen. He stepped slowly into the kitchen. Then, lighting a

lamp, he sat down to clean and cut the fish.

There was not a cloud in the sky. The moon was up, bathing the courtyard in white moonlight.

The night-bird could be heard calling from far. Gobindo came out onto the courtyard with a plate

in his hands. He sat himself down near the door in the moonlight, and began to munch on the

fried fish.

Translated from the original by Sipra Mukherjee

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