The travels of Bengalis in the past
Sumana Dam
(Continued from the last part)
After the fast-moving train, a comparatively slow journey by mail cart has begun. This journey follows the Grand Trunk Road, which Governor-General William Bentinck had paved with morrum. The road traverses hilly terrain, primarily through forested areas, with occasional patches of cultivation. The only moving scene is that of bullock carts loaded with goods. Every five or six miles, there are exchanges of mail and changes of horses. The mail carts of various companies have different colors for easy identification by their staff. The drivers make various sounds and call out to announce their arrival from afar. One horse was very weak and struggled to carry the load, so it was replaced later. The horses' provisions are not adequate.
From Niyamatpur, the path goes through valleys. Large hills are visible in the distance, and after passing through dense forests, one arrives at the Barakar River valley. This valley comprises hills, fields, villages, small rivers, and jungles. The beautiful Panchhet Hill rises 2000 feet on the horizon. On a nearby hill, there is a temple dedicated to the Santhal goddess.
The Barakar mountain river only fills with water during the monsoon. In October, the river has little water. Porters pull the carts across the river. A bridge is being constructed here. There are two Shiva temples by the riverside. A small local inn named Barakar provides accommodation. Though it is not a Santhal village, many Santhal men, women, and children are here for the bridge work. The shopkeepers are Bengali. Thirty years ago, this area barely existed; it was a place of wild beasts and uncivilized (!) natives. Now, the Grand Trunk Road has made these places significant. Tigers used to roam here often; now, they are seen once or twice a year, though many still inhabit the surrounding jungle. The Santhals are skilled hunters, bravely confronting wild animals. Their bows are very effective weapons. They easily hunt birds, rabbits, and even bears with arrows. Recently, a Santhal killed a hidden leopard using this weapon. During the Santhal Rebellion in 1855-56, a fearful atmosphere prevailed here, necessitating the hiring of guards to prevent the wild from inciting the natives against the Grand Trunk Road. Amidst the chaos, some local chieftains imagined wild tales. It created a tempest in a tea-pot and the name "sepoy" became reviled worldwide. (The rebellion considered the first step of the freedom struggle by Indians is described by Bholenath Chunder as a tempest in a teacup, reflecting a mentality of servitude to the English).
In Barakar market, there are at most twenty shops. Grains are produced here, and salt comes from the lower provinces. The condition of Barakar today is similar to that of Raniganj twenty-five years ago. The raw materials available in this area include lac, wood, beeswax, and minerals. If Indians aspire to create their own Birmingham or Sheffield in the future, they must consider this jungle region, the Jungle Mahal. Where jungle and wasteland currently exist, there will be producing villages and towns in 200 years. Thousands of square miles of land, now under the dominion of bears and leopards, will eventually host thriving orchards, agricultural fields, tea plantations, and sugarcane farms. Travelers in the twentieth century will see beautiful bungalows, charming suburbs, and warehouse, markets here. Young Bengal (the author) envisions a developed India of the future in this way.
The inn is located in a forested valley beside a mountain stream. Nearby is a Santhal village of thirty to forty huts, arranged in two rows facing each other. Almost every house keeps pigs, cows, goats, and pigeons. They have cultivated the land around the village. The Santhals have a natural tendency towards cleanliness.
The author notes that the Santhals are among the oldest inhabitants of India. Later, the Aryans came and displaced them. The Santhals gradually moved into the hills and forests, where they remain. Their appearance and language are different from those of the Aryans. They lack a written script, numbers, architecture, or significant art. If this community were to vanish from the earth today, they would leave no monuments, laws, literature, or documents for the future. This community is neglected and lacks recognition anywhere. The behavior of the Santhals living in Barakar is not markedly different from that of other residents; they mix their language with Bengali and Hindi when conversing with the author. The most notable trait of the Santhals is that they never lie.
After that, the journey in the mail cart resumed. They had a meal at a British bungalow in Taladanga (now in Jharkhand). The caretaker prepared rice and chicken curry. That night, the author and companions marveled at the British bungalow's comforts amidst nature and the fragrant air filled with flowers. They enjyed dinner in english style. As they left the bungalow, they happily tipped the caretaker beyond the fare.
That night, the journey in the mail cart resumed. After traveling through the forest all night, they saw at dawn that they had reached the base of Parasnath Hill. The first rays of the sun touched the summit. There are many hills in front and behind. The indescribable romantic feeling experienced by someone used to flat land upon seeing their first mountain is unforgettable.
The place at the foot of Parasnath Hill is Topchachi (now in Jharkhand). The people here are somewhat civilized and somewhat wild. Rice and mustard fields are spread around. Topchachi is a border village on the Grand Trunk Road, where (then) Bengal and Bihar converge. Here, the author entered ancient Magadha, the realm of Jarasandha, the empire of Chandragupta and Ashoka, and the birthplace of Buddhism. He ironically noted that while this place once sent Buddhism to China, it now sends opium there—both poison and medicine. History does not specify where ancient Gour was distinguished from Magadha. During the Mughal era, Teliagari Pass marked the western boundary of Bengal.
While the coachmen were busy overseeing the horses and carts, the author and companions set out on foot to explore Topchachi. As far as the eye could see, there were peaks upon peaks. The surrounding vegetation was entirely wild; not a single familiar tree was in sight. At the base of the mountain, tall trees could be seen, while those at medium height appeared like stunted bushes, and only green was discernible at the mountain's peak, where no tree shape could be identified. The highest peak here rises four thousand feet and is five thousand feet above sea level.
Parasnath Hill is named after the Jain Tirthankara Parasnath, the last of the twenty-four Tirthankaras. He attained nirvana at the eastern summit of this hill, a place regarded as the holiest site. A small, beautiful temple made of white stone stands there, visible even from the valley below. There is a path to walk to the mountain's peak, from where a stunning view of the mountain and valley can be seen. At the summit, there is a large footprint of Parasnath for visitors to see. An immense fair occurs here every March, attracting one lakh people from far and wide. At the foot of the mountain, there are some open spaces known as Madhuban, where the fair is held. Several temples are located here, including the main temple housing a black idol of Parasnath, with a snake spread over its head like a canopy. Other temples honor Kshetrapal, Chakreshwari, and Padmavati, who can be likened to the Hindu deities Narasimha, Durga, and Lakshmi. A large ancient banyan tree is considered sacred. The main temple was built by the famous Murshidabad millionaire Jagat Seth. Parasnath opposed the killing of living beings. The author reflects on how the drivers of the mail carts might mercilessly whip their horses. He comments that it is fortunate that God Parasnath is not watching their cruelty.
(To be continued)
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