Wings of Imagination

Manisha, my fiancée passed away in April 1976. What if by the grace of God Miss Manisha Ramcharan of Trinidad did become Mrs. Manisha Ramcharan-Kumar, aka Mrs. Manisha Kumar and landed in India sometimes in 1976 with her Indian husband Arun. Let me imagine the issues which we both would have had to face. A few things potentially could have created issues not very palatable to myself, my family, and my wife. Let me identify some of those possible scenarios and ponder how I would have handled them.

My parents and my sister, the people extremely close to me had accepted Manisha wholeheartedly after some initial culturally sensitive yet justified reservations. Manisha would have been very happy in her new immediate family in Lucknow, my hometown, where my parents lived. But what about my extended family and relatives in Jaunpur, Varanasi and elsewhere in India and outside? What would have been the reaction of my friends and most importantly how Manisha would have socially and psychologically adjusted to her new environment in Lucknow and Dehradun where I worked. The local language is Hindi and not everybody speaks or understands English. By and large Indians being socially conservative would have been happy that I had married a Hindu girl of Indian descent. People would naturally have been inquisitive about Manisha’s background, and it would have been enough to let people know that Manisha comes from a family of farmers in Trinidad and her forefathers were farmers and potters in Ayodhya (formerly Faizabad) district of Uttar Pradesh. There was a more serious question; about the emotional comfort of Manisha in India, how she would have managed her new life in India, far away from her family in Trinidad. Let me begin to ponder with my family home and its environment in Lucknow.

Our home in Lucknow was significantly smaller than Manisha’s in Trinidad. We just had a two-room house with an enclosed verandah and kitchen, one bathroom, one toilet but with a big courtyard and a good-sized front lawn. This space might not appear big by Trinidadian standards but was considered good in the middle-class urban India of 1976. India being an overpopulated country where urban poverty was on display all around, initially this would have shocked Manisha. Her initial reaction probably would have been where you have brought me Arun, she would have quietly thought. Actually, Dehradun looks much more like Port-of-Spain as both cities are under the shadow of big mountains and are very green and relatively clean.

Port-of-Spain of 1976 was no better than Lucknow of 1976; thus, our city would not have shocked her. As a matter of fact, Lucknow of 1976 was a much better and more livable city than what it has deteriorated to now in 2013. Lucknow those days was a city of gardens and parks, a great historical city with so many monuments and historical buildings, center of sports, arts and culture, an educational center of top-quality institutions and a city with large numbers of scientific research centers where scientists do world class research and above all a large number of fine dining places and fancy shopping areas dotted this whole city. Thus, Lucknow as a city would have charmed her and she would have been amazed to visit Lucknow’s centers of sports, arts, music, education and science. She had never seen anything like that in Trinidad before. I have no doubt that Manisha would have loved her new hometown Lucknow.

Although our city was great, but our home was not so great. Actually, it was quite a modest home rented from the Lucknow Municipal Corporation in a locality called Paper Mill Colony (PMC), then located in a newer part of the city bordering Nishatganj, an old community with a huge market. PMC was named because there was a paper mill nearby not because the inhabitants of PMC worked at the paper mill. By the way this paper mill located on the left bank the river Gomti was one of the oldest paper mills of India; it was named UPPER INDIA COOPER PAPER MILL.

Our home so far had accommodated only my parents and my sister. The space was enough for them, and they lived comfortably. The new reality was that the son of the family was returning home from Trinidad with his newly married Trinidadian bride. We must be comfortably accommodated in this home would have been my parents’ concern and priority. I have no doubt that my parents would have gladly given us one room for ourselves, and the rest of the family would have adjusted in the remaining space. I remember sometimes the verandah of the house was used as a bedroom for guests who used to frequent our home. I am sure this arrangement would have been acceptable to all; moreover, I was to stay in Lucknow only for a few days because I had to go to Dehradun, a city over five hundred kilometers away where I had my job as a research geologist (palynologist) in the Keshav Dev Malaviya Institute of Petroleum Exploration (KDMIPE) of Oil and Natural Gas Corporation (ONGC) of India. This temporary adjustment of space would not have bothered anyone.

My sister Manjula, we call her Chunni within the family, was very fond of Manisha; though she had never met her. While Manisha and I were discussing our marriage plans during late 1975 and early 1976 my sister and Manisha had exchanged a couple of letters and New Year’s greeting cards. Manjula was very happy that she will have a Trinidadian sister-in-law; one of the reasons was that she loved everything that was of foreign origin. She was eagerly waiting for Manisha to arrive in Lucknow so that she could introduce her to all her friends and take her around Lucknow with her friends. My parents too were keen to see their daughter-in-law because I had constantly praised Manisha in my letters to my father. Seeing the response of the whole family in favor of Manisha my mother too was very happy and eagerly waiting for the arrival of her son and daughter-in-law from Trinidad. My father and sister had done a remarkable job in convincing my mother that if Bhaiya ji (my family name) has selected a bride for him, then she must be really good. I am very sure Manisha would not have disappointed her in-laws’ expectations had she lived.

I am sure language would have certainly been an issue in our family as my mother did not know any English and my sister too couldn’t speak this language. And we would not expect Manisha to speak Hindi anyway. But I don’t think that would have been much of a problem because I and my father being bilingual could easily communicate in both Hindi and English. Manisha might have had to speak a bit slower so that my father could understand her heavily Trinidadian accented English. A lot of communication among the family’s female members would have been by gesturing and speaking broken Hindi and English. I and my father would have acted as ever ready translators. As the saying goes ‘where there is will there is a way’; Manisha needed to talk to her mother-in-law and sister-in-law; I am sure she would have found ways to communicate. Moreover, women are innately blessed to communicate well despite language barriers. I have no doubt that Manisha’s natural ability to charm family members and her exquisite culinary knowledge of the West Indian food and her passion for cooking would have made everyone happy in the family. She would have certainly been a popular daughter-in-law.

In our Lucknow home the dining table was set in the verandah and close to the newly constructed kitchen which took away almost half of the courtyard. The dining table was the nerve center of the family. There were six chairs, but our family had only five members. Thus, it was a comfortable place for all not just to eat but to gossip, discuss anything and everything under the Sun and often indulge into heated arguments as well. My father was a born democrat and staunchly believed that all of us had equal right to speak our minds and offer opinions on any subjects. This freedom sometimes led to intense arguments between my parents, I and my father or my sister with everyone else in the family except me. But it was all fun and at the end of every squabble we all felt good without any hard feelings. We discussed politics ranging from city, state, nation, and the world (Indian politics can lead to extreme partisanship and has the potential to create permanent divisions among family members); not even that, we also discussed politics within our extended family, relatives, friends, and neighbors etc. We talked about sports, cinema, music, education, job, and training and so many more things that I can’t remember anymore. On this dining table eating was a secondary activity and we all had our ‘reserved’ chairs to sit on. My father and I always sat across each other, and my mother always sat on my side since that was closer to the kitchen door, easy to serve food.

To the best of my understanding this environment would have initially intimidated Manisha a great deal because in her parents’ family in Trinidad there was not much time for gossip, arguments or discussions. She hailed from a farmer’s family where everyone was busy working hard and for long hours in the fields and in their respective jobs. They practiced the ‘early to bed and early to rise’ way of life. This was in contrast to our lifestyle in Lucknow which was very much relaxed. I and my father had government jobs, there was a set routine, and we ate late, talked a lot, and went to bed late after some reading and/or watching television. There was no compulsion to rise early in the morning because those days government jobs began at 10.00 a.m. There was every possibility that this kind of lifestyle would have made Manisha a bit relaxed or even lazy. But hold on, this is only when we visited Lucknow; our real home would have been Dehradun. Now let me take Manisha on a train journey to Dehradun.

Those days there were two daily trains that connected Lucknow to Dehradun; one was the Doon Express and the other was the Janta Express; both ran between Howrah in West Bengal to Dehradun in U.P. (now in Uttarakhand) via Lucknow. Doon Express was faster and more convenient for me, so I preferred this train. This train left Lucknow Junction around 7.00 p.m. and reached Dehradun next morning around 8.00 a.m. if it ran on time. I can only imagine Manisha’s excitement mixed with fear when she would see so many people milling around on a railway platform and crowded train compartments. The environment of a platform on any major Indian railway station those days was beyond imagination for most people and extremely intimidating for foreigners. Railway platforms were not meant only for travelers, but were home to stray animals like dogs, cats, cows, bulls, monkeys and sometimes even donkeys, giant and ferocious rats, cockroaches, flies, insects and finally homeless human beings and pickpockets. Now things are far better and not as intimidating. Red dressed coolies with an overburden of baggage run around every time a train came to a platform. People rushing in and out of train compartments, rubbing, shoving, and pushing each other with total disregard for human decency. All kinds of food vendors sold popular Indian snack foods that ranged anything from a variety of sweets, jalebis, samosas, poori and bhaji, masala dosa, extremely sweet tea in tiny plastic cups, poor quality biscuits, not so fresh fruits, ice cream, fruit juices, all kinds of locally made spurious cola drinks and many more types of regional foods as one traveled to different parts of India. Most food vendors spent a lot of their energy trying unsuccessfully to ward off swarm of flies that perennially hovered over food. Hungry folks ate all these ‘delicacies’ and even if few of them got sick then who cares and what’s the big deal? In India there are a million other ways of getting sick. I don’t wish to intimidate people traveling on Indian railways; PLEASE go ahead and enjoy your journey. Don’t forget that India’s railway system is one of the world’s largest and carries more people daily than the whole population of many countries in the world and most certainly Trinidad’s. It is also the cheapest and probably the safest in the world. I as a diehard Indian am proud of our great INDIAL RAILWAYS. These days Indian Railways have become a more professional organization. They have considerably improved their services and they do care for cleanliness at every stage of their services.

I would have had to convince Manisha not to worry about our train journey. It would not only be comfortable but enjoyable too. There is no railway service in Trinidad, apparently; they had one in the past that was abandoned and the railway tracks were removed to make way for highways. So most likely her life’s first train journey would have been with me in India. I used to travel in Three Tier Sleeper compartment, where each passenger had his or her own reserved berth to sleep. However, getting in and out of the train compartment is achieved only with the help of red dressed coolies. They carry the baggage and help passengers find their seats for some money and there is always a verbal dual between a coolie and his client about the cost of his service. Train compartments in India, even the reserved ones were not quite clean, and washrooms were especially dirty. I know Manisha would have had genuine reason to complain about the crowding and dirty environment but like other things in India, one must understand that those days India was an overcrowded and dirty country. Still despite remarkable economic growth during the past three decades, a section of overpopulated Indians are still poor and parts of the country are yet to be cleaned. Once a foreigner overcame the few initial inconveniences, life becomes much more fun and enjoyable. Basically, Indians are friendly and helpful people, yet not everyone is trustworthy. Probably this is true of all people the world over. I would have never allowed Manisha to eat anything from the platform, no matter how enticing. My mother always used to pack home cooked food and gave us water bottles that accompanied us during our train journeys.

Having a name like Manisha Kumar and with a hundred percent Indian looks, people in the train would have initiated dialogue with her, obviously in Hindi. Indians get very chatty and friendly once the train leaves the platform and picks up speed. They would be arguing for their space in the compartment when a train halts at a railway platform, but once everyone settles down they all become friends as if nothing untoward has ever happened. They would happily share their food, drinks, or sweets etc. They almost become like family members. At times people make everlasting friends in the trains. I would have enjoyed Manisha’s uneasy face when she would fail to answer a question in Hindi. Of course, there are always English speakers everywhere in India. Even if I told a fellow passenger that she is from Trinidad and can speak only English, her Trinidadian English too would have been a center of attraction. I bet millions of questions would have been fired at me, like, where is Trinidad? How come she has an Indian or Hindu name? She even looks Indian. How did I marry her since she is not from India? Average Indians are very inquisitive and can be nosy too, however it is always in good faith and meant no harm to anyone, and such conversations are usually quite innocent. It would have been a challenge for me answering so many questions every time we traveled by train.

Dehradun used to rank amongst the better cities in India. Those days it was not a big city, located in the Doon Valley overlooking the beautiful Musoorie hills of the great Himalayan mountains to the north and Siwalik Hills to the south. Famous Hindu pilgrimage towns like Haridwar and Rishikesh are only a couple of hours drive away. Pilgrimage to Badrinath, Kedarnath and many other Hindu religious places in the Garhwal Himalayas began here in Dehradun. Because of its equable and hospitable climate and geographical proximity to the nation’s capital New Delhi, Dehradun became a center for so many national organizations. Some important ones are The Survey of India (world’s largest and second oldest), Forestry Research Institute (FRI), a premier forestry research center known the world over, its sprawling campus extends to several square km, National Defense Academy (NDA) where officers of the Indian Army get their training; they too have a very large campus. A large number of national research labs are also located here; the most famous being the National Remote Sensing Research Center and National Wildlife Research Center. Dehradun is best known for its schools; the rich and famous of India have studied here and they send their children for schooling in this city. Doon Valley also produces world famous Basmati Rice which is exported almost all over the world. Oil & Natural Gas Corporation (ONGC), India’s national oil company had its headquarters here and its famous research center KDM Institute of Petroleum Exploration (KDMIPE) was also located in Dehradun. I worked at KDMIE as a research geologist (palynologist).

Now just imagine my dear wife Manisha Kumar of Trinidad had decided to live in this distinguished city where her husband worked as a scientist. I am sure she would have been excited and very pleased with prospect of newly married life here. There would have been challenges but none which we could not have overcome easily. In Dehradun, I had a three room, very comfortable apartment on the second floor of a building. The ground floor and the top floors were occupied by my KDMIPE colleagues. From the terrace of the building, we got a stunning view of glittering Musoorie town in the night which Manisha and I would have enjoyed. This town is located on the top and slopes of the lesser Himalayan Ranges. Even during daytime, the green vistas of the Doon Valley looked very charming.

Being an Indo-Trnidadian she would have been the center of attraction among my friends and their families. Since all my friends were highly educated professionals, mostly their wives too were university educated. As a matter of fact, Manisha would have been least educated among the woman folk in my friend circle. All my friends and their wives who came from non-Hindi speaking regions of India spoke good English and university educated women from the Hindi belt too spoke English well. So, language in Dehradun would not have been such an issue. To converse freely Manisha would have had to speak slowly so that others could comprehend her Trinidadian accent. Once Manisha learned some even broken Hindi, she would have been comfortable going out shopping by herself. Most shopkeepers in Dehradun especially where ONGC employees lived spoke English well.

It seems initially life in Dehradun for Manisha would have been a bit boring because I would have been away for eight hours daily for my work every weekday. Since my workplace was close, I would have made sure to come home during lunch break for twenty minutes at least. Rest of the time she would have had to manage herself by taking care of daily home chores, reading, or watching TV etc. But eventually she would have gotten used to this lifestyle. In case she wanted further education I would have certainly encouraged and helped her to complete B.A. from the local university. Most evenings we would have gone out on my scooter (I had no car those days) to either meet friends, watch movies, or have dinners outside in restaurants. Dehradun was and still is famous for large numbers of fine dining places. There were large number of picnic spots in and around Dehradun where I and my friends used to frequent mostly on weekends. Manisha would have loved those family picnics. Our life would have been happy, enjoyable, and fulfilling.

There would have been constant invitations for us to visit my extended family and relatives in Jaunpur and Varanasi. Eventually we would have had to go there mainly because my grandmother used to live with my two uncles and their families in Jaunpur. Almost everyone in Jaunpur and Varanasi loved me as one of their own children. I was a star boy of the extended family. It was not possible for me not to take Manisha with me on at least one visit to Jaunpur and Varanasi.

I had a very special relationship with my grandmother who normally lived in Jaunpur but she often visited us in Lucknow as well. I was her dearest grandchild, and she did not hide this fact from my siblings. Whether anyone liked it or not she never cared, that’s the way it was. I too admired and fondly remember my grandma even today. Although she never attended any school and did not have any formal education, my grandma was the best educated and most knowledgeable woman I knew among our extended family, relatives, and friends. She had a sharp mind and amazing memory and strong likes and dislikes. She had read almost all the Hindu scriptures, and every book in Hindi she could get a hold on, daily newspaper and several weekly or monthly magazines. She was very well informed about politics and had strong opinions on various subjects. Once she scolded my father that why he did not teach her English so that she could read the books in my father’s library which were mostly in English. She used to help me in my school homework and helped me write excellent Hindi essays. My grandma was an extremely beautiful, very fair skinned woman who was also a very good singer and could play the harmonium very well. She had the potential to attain exceptional heights in any field had she had formal education. She was the only child of her parents; her father was an Assistant Station Master in the Banaras (now Varanasi) Central Railway Station during British India. Usually, this position was meant only for the English folk those days.

If I must pay an ultimate compliment to any woman, I will say that she looks and has the brains like my grandma; so far only my daughter Anita gets that compliment. There was absolutely no way that I could not have taken Manisha to meet my grandmother and other family members in Jaunpur.

Well so far so good; now is the problem part. Our home in Jaunpur, though big, but was a horribly designed old house with no private place for bath and even the toilet was very primitive. Even I had hard time using those facilities whenever I was in Jaunpur. Mainly because of those inconveniences I never used to stay there for more than a couple of days despite all the love and care I got from my family. Now I would have had to worry about Manisha’s ordeal if we had to stay there even for two days. I really don’t know how she would have managed. Women of the family woke up early and finished their morning rituals before men folk awoke. I guess Manisha too would have followed the same routine. I am sure my aunts would have helped Manisha in every possible way. Well, it would have been for only two days; she would have managed somehow. Otherwise, Manisha’s time in Jaunpur would have been very good meeting with loving and caring members of our extended family. Since Varanasi was very close to Jaunpur, most of the times I visited both these places on a single trip. My uncle’s home in Varanasi was a three-floor big and comfortable home with all the modern amenities. He was a successful lawyer. My uncle, aunt and my four cousins would have been mighty pleased to meet Manisha. On the request of my uncle Manisha had sent a special sari clad photograph of her to this family. They kept her photo in the family album and were patiently waiting to meet Manisha and I together. She would have enjoyed this city and my uncle’s family. In 1972 Manisha’s father Mr. Ramcharan on his maiden trip to India had visited Varanasi and had stayed at the famous Hotel D’Paris where her distant cousins had come from Karaundi village of Ayodhya (formerly Faizabad) district to meet him. I am sure she would have been excited with the idea of visiting this hotel of Varanasi.

Talking of Karaundi, I think Manisha would have had a natural desire to visit the village of her ancestors. I don’t think that would have been difficult at all to visit this village provided her family in Trinidad gave us the address and a reference letter to their family in Karaundi. It is very difficult for me to visualize how Manisha would have reacted to visit her ancestral family and if she would have preferred to stay there for few days. I would certainly have been pleased since there was no language problem for me; it would have been fun being a translator between Manisha and her ancestral family members in Karaundi.

As a matter of fact, I can go on and on visualizing my life with Manisha in India, but I had promised her only three years in India. Once I was done with my contract with the Government of India we were supposed to have gone back to Trinidad. This was the contract I had signed to avail the award of National Scholarship for Study Abroad offered by the Ministry of Education, Government of India. Since I would have had a Trinidadian wife, I would have been legally entitled to work in the Trinidadian petroleum industry. Dr. James M. Lammons, one of my professor’s earlier students was a senior palynologist at Texaco-Trinidad Ltd. He was my friend; may be that would have helped me find a job in Trinidad. In case I could not find a suitable job in Trinidad I always had the option to move either to the USA or Canada to either teach at a university or work in the oil industry. Those days in the 1970s jobs for well qualified geologists was not much of a problem.

This story is nothing but daydreaming with wings of imagination. But I certainly enjoyed dreaming and visualizing my life with Manisha in India. Good dreams do bring happiness and peace of mind; that way it has been a good writing exercise. The reality is that Manisha had died even before we could decide how and when I was going to buy my airplane ticket from India to Trinidad, way before she could become Mrs. Manisha Kumar.