[Assam] Assamese are the friendliest Indians-Khushwant Singh

[Manoj Das]

    *Saturday, December 23, 2000*  *T H I S  A B O V E* * A L L*

  * *

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Assamese are the friendliest Indians
by Khushwant Singh*
* *

*W*E got talking about the friendliest people in our country. We analysed
Panjus (Punjabis), Bhaiyas (Uttar Pradeshis and Biharis), Bongs (Bengalis),
Dakhanis (Telengas, Kannadas), Mallus (Malayalis), Madrasis (Tamilians),
Mian Bhais (Muslims), Makapaons (Christians) and Bawajis (Parsis). We went
down the list demolishing each group for one defect or the other. Panjus:
very forthcoming but uncouth and loud-mouthed, who wants to make friends
with them ? Bhaiyas: non-descript, neither as extrovert as Panjus nor as
introspective as Bongs. Bongs: think they are number one Indians and very
arty; when Bengal sneezes, the rest of India catches a cold etc. And
clannish. No cuisine culture, only *moshti doi* and *roshogulla.
*Maharashtrians,
Dakhanees, Madrasis and Mallus, all lumped together as Madrasis, are full of
caste prejudices and rarely invite people to their homes. Makapaons and
Bawajis are half-baked firengis: you don't feel relaxed in their company.
General conclusion: people who prefer their own kind — language-wise or
caste-wise — don't qualify to compete for the "friendship championship". Nor
do people who keep their women in *purdah* or in the kitchen.
     *EARLIER COLUMNS*  The Father Teresa of
Punjab<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001216/windows/above.htm>
December 16, 2000   Metros bursting at the
seams<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001209/windows/above.htm>
December 9, 2000
   Going for Ganga darshan
 <http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001202/windows/above.htm>December 2,
2000
   To be among celebrities<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001125/windows/above.htm>
November 25, 2000
   The dawn chorus at
Santiniketan<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001118/windows/above.htm>
November 18, 2000
   A priceless Divali
gift<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001111/windows/above.htm>
November 11, 2000

Making documentaries is her forte
 <http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001104/windows/above.htm>November 4,
2000
  The Indo-Malaysian
connection<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001028/windows/above.htm>
October 28, 2000
  Lessons terrorism taught
us<http://www.tribuneindia.com/2000/20001021/windows/above.htm>
October 21, 2000
  Blood-letting in
Punjab<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20001014/windows/above.htm>
October 14, 2000  Translating the *Japji Sahib
*<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20001007/windows/above.htm>
*
*October 7, 2000  Indian concept of
beauty<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000930/windows/above.htm>
September 30, 2000  To forgive and
forget<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000923/windows/above.htm>
September 23, 2000  Memoirs of Vijaya Lakshmi
Pandit<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000909/windows/above.htm>
September 9, 2000  Times are out of joint
 <http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000902/windows/above.htm>September 2, 2000  His
voice is immortal <http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000826/windows/above.htm>
August 26, 2000  No end to
hostility<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000819/windows/above.htm>
August 19,2000  Visit to a once peaceful
metropolis<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000812/windows/above.htm>
August 12, 2000  The most abominable
crime<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000805/windows/above.htm>
*
*August 5, 2000  Unveiling Indian
women<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000729/windows/above.htm>
July 29, 2000  A spiritually incorrect
mystic<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000722/windows/above.htm>
*
* July 22, 2000  India without
Pilot<http://www.tribuneindia.com/20000715/windows/above.htm>
July 15, 2000


So who are we left with ? I go over my encounter with my country men and
women. I have been just about everywhere in Bharat. I could not make up my
mind when I got a letter from Bobbeeta. I had all but forgotten her but for
her odd name Bobbeeta. I had met her briefly in Guwahati and Delhi. I went
over the names of other Assamese I knew: Baruas, Bezbaruas, Hazarikas,
Gogois, Bardolois Saikias, Phukans, Bor-Thakurs, Raj Khowas, Goswamis,
Chaudhrys, Sarmas, Acharyas. It is surprising that even though I have not
been to Assam more than four or five times and for that too three or four
days each time, I keep in touch with more Assamese than with any other
people. Why? For me the average Assamese woman is better-looking than the
average-looking woman anywhere else. For another they are more forthcoming
and more hospitable, with no hangups about caste or class. My vote for the
friendliest of Indians goes to the Assamese.

Back to Bobbeeta. She was nurtured on films and electronic media. As a
child, she started playing roles in may films till she came to Doordarshan
in Guwahati as a news reader and also began acting in serials. While she
teaches history in Pandu College (Guwahati), she is a research fellow in the
Department of Film studies in Calcutta's Jadavpur University. Her crowning
achievement has been her being the anchor and co-producer of *Geetimalika, *a
song-based programme, which will telecast its 100th episode on Boxing Day —
December 26, a record for any programme telecast in Assamese. For the
centenary of *Geetimalika*, a bash is planned to honour Bobbeeta, her
husband and co-producer Chinmoy, director-editor Manas Adhikari and script
writer Jimoni Chaudhury. Bobbeeta has written to me about what they plan
doing for the big day but has not invited me to join them. This is a very
unfriendly act by people I vote as the friendliest of Indians.
*

Poonch is dead
*

My neighbour Reeta Devi Verma is passionately fond of dogs and cats, not the
pedigreed variety but strays, born in gutters or abandoned by their masters.
Her husband Bheem, a prince of Cooch Bihar, is even more dedicated to them.
Every evening he sets out in his ancient car with packets of food to do the
rounds of the locality where dogs await his arrival to be fed. He
occasionally takes a vet with him to inject dogs with anti-rabies vaccines
and treat them for mange and even gets them sterilised. Caring for abandoned
animals is more important to him than social norms. No matter who has
invited him at what time, he will not turn up before 8.30 p.m., till he has
fed hundreds of dogs who depend on him. He never goes away from Delhi.

Reeta has taken on more. She is building a hospital for TB and AIDS victims
in her hometown Guwahati. She has a fully-equipped ambulance van which goes
round villages treating people no longer able to travel to the city. She has
also set up a laboratory. She has to spend many days in Assam every month.

Reeta found a mongrel abandoned in the Greater Kailash market. It was scared
of humans and as Reeta approached it, it ran away and hid under a car. When
she tried to get it out, it bit her. Nevertheless she managed to get hold of
it and bring it home. It had been traumatised. It took some time for Reeta
to win its affection. She fed it, nourished it to health and virtually
became its human mother. It was a hairy cuddly Apso kind of dog. It
developed a terrible mother fixation. It slept in Reeta's bed, growled at
anyone who came near its mother and followed her wherever she went like her
shadow. I named her Poonch (tail), Reeta's tail.

Reeta and Poonch became inseparable. Whenever she came to see me, Poonch
followed. She felt unhappy till Reeta took her in her lap. It took me a long
time to win Poonch's confidence. Reeta would put her in my lap and let me
cuddle her. She returned my affection but as soon as Reeta stood up to
leave, she jumped off my lap to run after its mom, happily wagging her tail.

When Reeta left for Guwahati, Poonch was desolate. Bheem brought her morning
and evening to let her sit in my lap for a few minutes. Poonch became
possessive about me. If anyone came near me, she growled at them. She was
not as eager to go back with Bheem as she was with Reeta. A bond of
affection grew between us.

One morning last week, Bheem and Poonch did not show up. I wondered what had
happened. A couple of hours later, Reeta rang me up from Guwahati. "Poonch
is dead", she said in a choked voice. She could not speak any more. A heavy
gloom of depression came over me. I kept thinking of Poonch all day and the
time she spent in my lap, how she fell asleep as I stroked her fat bottom
and whispered into her ears, "You sensuous little bitch!"

So passed the day. After dinner I was sitting by my fireside. I was lost in
my thoughts when Bheem walked in carrying Poonch's body wrapped in a shawl
in his arms with tears streaming down his eyes. I extended my arms. He
placed her body in my lap. I stroked her body. It was as cold as a slab of
ice. Her eyes and mouth were slightly open — just as they were when she was
alive and enjoying my stroking her.
*

Star-struck
*

Raghupati did nothing important without consulting his astrologer. Had it
been feasible, he would have checked with the stars even before buttoning up
his shirt or scratching his elbow or breaking wind. A family tradition. Over
the years, astrologers and palmists, *yogis and *fortune-tellers had advised
him on whom to marry, what new first name to give his wife, when to copulate
so as to beget only sons, when to officially drop his caste-revealing
surname, when to angle for a transfer, which posts were both lucrative and
safe, whom to be beware of, whom to trample on, whom to suck up to, when to
separate from his wife, which functions to attend, what colours to wear on
which occasions, what food to eat when, when to divorce — in brief, how,
when and where to place every step of life.
*

(Upamanyu Chatterjee in The Mammaries of the Welfare State).
*

Note: Khushwant Singh is away on holiday, there will no column next week. *
*
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