It was winter of 2003. We sold out our big ancestral home in posh South Calcutta location due to some unavoidable reasons and purchased two flats in a not-so-posh locality in Calcutta. Understandably we were sad since our distinguished forefathers who were a part of Bengal history enjoyed almost a century of residing in that posh locale. But one incident that happened to me in that time etched a deep memory.
It was a wintry morning. I was going to see our new property. I came out from our three-storied building to the street in front and hailed a cab. The taxi driver looked at me quizzically and then gave a long stare at our ancestral house. The moment I hopped in and told him my destination, he asked me “Is it your house? Does this place belong to you?” while starting his taxi. I was perplexed and became a little uneasy because many-a-times when you sell out a big property a lot of people in locality get to know somehow and become extra-inquisitive about the deal and its paraphernalia. And ours was a disputed property. So I had reasons to be alert. Anyway I said a curt “Yes” and kept mum through rest of the journey except while giving directions. When I reached my destination after half an hour or so I asked him how much should I pay? His reply baffled me more. He said “Babu, I will not take a single penny from you. This ride is for free. Even I can offer you a free ride every time you or your family member boards my taxi. I am forever grateful to your family. My father survived because of your ancestor’s kind refuge”. You do not expect this kind of answer from a cab driver who generally minds business. I was clueless. I asked him the reason for such kindness. Then he told me a true-story that shows loyalty, chivalry and humanity is not all lost in these days of all-pervading consumerism and capitalism. Hold your breath dear readers; I am going back to 1946!
16th August 1946 is a black day in Indian history. On that fateful day Muslim league launched their demand for a separate Islamic nation (Pakistan) strongly across India. Calcutta was the worst hit. History says at least six thousand people were butchered in Calcutta alone due to Hindu-Muslim riot ( Readers may watch a movie ‘Hey Ram’ starred by Kamal Hasan and Rani Mukherji to get a gut-wrenching glimpse of what actually happened on that very day on the streets of Calcutta or read ‘Bangalnama’ by Tapan Raychaudhuri). The said taxi driver is a Hindu whose father was young in 1946. Their family was disturbed in the said riot. Our family with the leadership of late Sri Kushi Prasun Chatterji ( my paternal grandfather’s eldest brother), a noted lawyer and Congress patron of his time in Calcutta offered refuge to many riot-stricken Hindu families including this said taxi driver’s family in our big ancestral mansion. Angered by this the local Muslim league leaders barged in and demanded Kushi babu’s intervention in supporting riot-afflicted Muslim families also. Kushi babu showed exemplary courage that day which is still remembered by old-timers in Bhowanipore locality of Calcutta. He immediately wrote a pact with Muslim league leaders that innocent Muslims will also be given refuge in our home given that they should not fight at any cost with the Hindu refugees. Realizing the graveness of the situation the said leaders signed the pact; the Muslim victims of riot too came in our house. For next seven days or so until the riots and hostilities subsided, until the communal hatred ebbed away the Hindu and Muslim riot-afflicted victims stayed in our house peacefully with their food and shelter completely taken care of by our family. This taxi driver was not even born then, his young father took our refuge. Then they went back to their own homes after situation improved. And Kushi babu’s benevolence became folklore in Bhowanipore, Calcutta ( Kushi babu’s courageous tale got recounted recently albeit with less details than mine in 2007 by Dhritikanto Lahiri Chowdhuri in Anandabazar Patrika after he received Ananda Puroskar for his book ‘Hatir Boi’).
Now recounting his tale the cab driver told me with tears in his eyes “ Babu, once your forefathers saved mine. And my father always told me showing your house that anybody from that house is my guest and savior. Your house is our temple, babu ! How can I forget that you stay in that house and come from that family which saved our family from perishing for sure? Babu, my father is dead. But as long as I am alive I will follow what he said. I will not take a single penny from you, babu. Please tell this to your family also.” Now my eyes moistened as I heard his story. He left. But he left an indelible impression on me. I understood it is not a building that a man resides makes a man. It is not money that makes a man. It was Kushi Prasun Chatterji’s life-saving measures and good deeds that saved so many families from perishing away. And this extra-ordinary loyalty of an ordinary cab driver restituted my faith in humanity.
