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I Adore

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 About Notion Press

Notion Press is a Self-Publishing platform to write,publish & sell Print books and eBooks around the world.

 To learn more, visit www.notionpress.com

I Adore is a product of the Notion Press Author

Incubation Program.

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I Adore

 Arindam Nath

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NotionPress

5 Muthu Kalathy Street, Triplicane, Chennai -600005

First Published by NotionPress

Copyright © Arindam Nath 2013

 All Rights Reserved.

ISBN: 978-93-82447-59-7

 This book is sold subject to condition that it shallnot by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resoldor hired out, circulated and no reproduction in any form, in whole or in part (except for brief quotationsin critical articles or reviews) may be made without

 written permission of the publishers.

 This book has been published in good faith that the work of the author is original. All efforts have beentaken to make the material error-free. However, theauthor and the publisher disclaim the responsibility for any inadvertent errors.

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 ToMy wife Dr. Paramita Biswas

and

friends in social net-work.

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Contents

iFOREWORD

iiiINTRODUCTION

1 A TALE OF TWO BHUBANS

5GHOSTLY LIGHT

7 THE ART OF FISHING

18 ARNO

23DULU

26 A LETTER TO MA DURGA

29 THE EVOLUTION OF A TEMPLE

32 ALGEBRA34 A PLEASURE

35 A REVISED TALE OF TWO CITIES

37DATE PALM TREE

38 THE CURSE

41 AN OMNIPRESENT EVIL

45 A RADICAL ATHEIST!

47 AFFECT OF FLIRTING

48 A PIOUS MAN

49 AN EARLY ENCOUNTER 

50 AN EERIE KNACK 

51 ACOUSTIC POEM

54 A GHOSTLY AFFAIR 

57IN QUEST OF GHOST

60 THE GHOST OF LAKE

64 THE RESCUE

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66BUDDHA SMILES

69BATI CHALLAN

71 AN INTRUDER 

73CHARACTERS

74 THE PARADISE GAIN

78 THE COMPOUNDER 

81DANG-GULI83 THE EAST-WIND

87DECODING DA VINCI CODE

91DEMAGOGUE

95ELUSIVE PROFIT

96 WORSHIPING A STORM ….

98 THE EVOLUTION OF POLICE

102FRICTION

104'FORGIVE ALL'

107FAIRY TALE!

110FREEZING LAW 

112GUINEA PIGS

114‘HOW MUCH LAND DOES A MANREQUIRE?’

117HUNGER STRIKE

120HAPUNGRAJA

123HYPOCRITE

125HAIR-CUT

127I PREFER DARKNESS….

130INFATUATION

132IN QUEST OF A PATHER PANCHALI

134 THE BLESSINGS OF GOD!

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136 WHEN THE STORM SHATTERED MY 

DOORS….138KANDE SUCH

141KORA KAGAZ

143‘KHUCHKAR’

144KERRYINGDAR 

147LOOKING THROUGH THE PRISMS OF

SONGS

150LITTLE COMPANION

152MODERN POETRY 

154MA DURGA

160MEMOIR’S OF THE KANCHANJHANGA

168MY NATIVE PEOPLE170MASA-ALLAH!

172I ADORE

176RAKESHER MA….

177NEW WOLVES …

181ON MY DAILY TRACK 

184PHYSICS IN POLICING

186PRIESTLY WITTY 

187PALINDROME

190PREETAM

193REAL GEM

195READING BEARDS ….

197RIDING ON GHOST

200MALINGERER 

201RANI SAHEBA!

203SHUKRACHARYA!

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205SILENCE

208 THE SYMBOL OF MISERY!

210 THE CROW 

213 THE DREAM OF A FERRARI

218 THE HOLY COW 

221 THE RISING OF THE SUN

223 THE LIBIDO OF DOGS226 TELEPATHY 

228 THIEVES’ VISITING CARD

230 THE SORROW FOR WHICH MY HEART ISCRYING

232HOTCHPOTCH

234CONTRA-VISUAL

236 THE TIE

238 TALIBAN

240 THE VEIL

243UNDERSTANDING GOD

248 WITTY UNPARALLEL250 WORSHIPING LAXMI

252ZEROING ON GOD

256MOGER MULUK 

260READING NAILS

265NIGHT ROUND BY GHOST

268BLOOD SPOT

272 THE SOUND DETECTOR 

275IT HAPPENS…

277 A PRODIGY 

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FOREWORD

Of all the human passions, the urge of story telling is oneof the oldest. In the days of hoary antiquity, when man

 was just learning to live a settled life, they would leavetheir women, children and the old at their settlementand go out in search of food – they would pluck fruits,

dig out roots, catch fishes, kill animals and carry themhome to eat. Some of these gatherers of food were very favourite with the dwellers because they very artistically narrated their daily adventures to them. Those story-tellers loved to exaggerate and fantasize their feats. Buttheir listeners would adore them for their fantasies as

 well. They would themselves dream to do these thingsone day. It is needless to say that competent story-tellers

 were few even in those days.

 The tradition goes on. When man invented letters, theliterate story-tellers became writers – the greatest of them

 were: Valmiki, Vyasa, Kalidas and Rabindranath. They  wrote down their anecdotes, stories, tales and fables fortheir contemporaries and posterity. There are many of 

them in all ages and in all languages. People love andrevere these writers. It goes without saying that the morechequered is the life of the writer, the more variegatedare his stories.

 The writer here is Arindam Nath. Though he is young he underwent a lot of experiences. He has got both

agrarian and urban experiences. He had a stint of aschool-teacher’s life and he is now a police officer. Whocan have a more kaleidoscopic view of the world than apolice officer? Moreover, this police officer has a gene of curiosity in his built. This forces him to see more thanothers can do.

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 This book contains all that the observant police officer

has noticed and the story-teller in him forced him to tell. The readers will not be able to miss the kind-heartedsympathetic person in the writer. He has an extraordinary sympathy for the down-trodden and the underdogs in thesociety. There is the sparkle of the wit and humour of the writer everywhere.

 What are the pieces of writing in this book? Stories,romantic essays or just musings? They can be called all.But nomenclature apart, these are good to read! These

 will please the readers. And that is important. The piecesare different. Even in length they are so different. Whilethe ‘Art of Fishing’ spreads over ten pages, three otherpieces, viz, ‘A Pious Man’, ‘An Early Encounter’ and ‘AnEerie Knack’; all three together occupy only one page.

 Again, I may say, they are highly readable.

‘I adore’ is Arindam’s second venture in writing a book in English. In his first attempt he produced a novel – Bridging Souls –  AA Journey  Journey from   from Mahabharata  Mahabharata toto Bharata Bharata .

 That has been published by Peacock Books, New Delhi. That has been equally readable. I wish to see Sriman

 Arindam’s rise as a litterateur. I see him already as arunning commentator for life that goes on all around, butnot perceived by all.

Prof. Prabhas Chandra Dhar - Ph. D

 January 30, 2013

D/201, Krishnayan,

 Advisor Choumohani, Agartala.

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INTRODUCTION

Story telling is difficult; every one can not tell stories.It started many many centuries ago and not many areremembered. It was same for every country, man startedas hunters and gatherers, when cultivation was notknown, even raising cows and other animals for milk, and

meat was not known. Story tellers slowly emerged thento tell the stories of a deer hunt, struggle to catch the fishfrom the river, fight a tiger, or battling the enemy. It wasa very small number whose stories stuck, whose storiesmade humans laugh, cry and get angry, started war. Goodstories were not dime a dozen.

Story tellers could be counted in fingers. How many?If you ask, not many is the answer. In Indian subcontinent Valmiki, Vyas, Kalidas were born centuries ago,

 we had near us, our own Rabindranath and if you allow me Sunil Ganguli, the great story teller and poet.

I belong to’ story tellers ‘family, so when I cameacross a story written by a young Police officer I stoodup, I took notice. This is unusual. Doctors write stories,lawyers write, not many Policemen does and if at all the

 write up is stories about thieves, dacoits, smugglers, andthugs.

But, these stories in “I adore” I saw a mind which isdifferent, extremely human and the mastery over English!I was very impressed.

In the Bhubans –the human touch, the ghostly lightthe fine humor, letter to Ma Durga hilarious but serious,

evolution of temple just the every day, every wherematter. In fishing minute details of very difficult art of fishing 

I notice a kind and sympathetic soul not seen often,not every where. I have not met Arindam in person, buthis pen talks to me I am overawed, full of gratefulness

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for the extremely pleasant writings that pleasures me. I

crave for more. Just a different note, I know Paromita, she was abrilliant student, classmate of my son Rajorshi, so whenI meet my son next I can tell him that his mate Paromitahas made no mistake, she has married a brilliant man anda brilliant story teller.

Rathin Datta, FRCS, Padmashree

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g

 A TALE OF TWO BHUBANS

I come across Bhuban regularly in course of morning  walk. Bhuban Pal is a retired Havilder of Tripura StateRifles (TSR). At the time of such meetings with me,

he comes to attention first and invariably utters, “JaiHind, Sir”. Sometimes, pedestrians or cycle riders, whoare perhaps behind him, almost stumble upon him. Itis really difficult for him to forget drills and discipline

 which he had learned during TSR training. Aftercustomary exchange of views he usually shows me his

 vegetable garden. I have to admit that he is still very hard-working even after retirement. This time I generally 

become thoughtful. He breaks the silence, “Sir, I am now reformed.”

I must admit Bhuban is a changed man now. Ifirst met Bhuban about ten years back in course of my posting in TSR. I was then holding a high post inthe battalion. Our headquarters, located in an interiorlocation of our State, was badly affected due to extremist

activities. We were fighting against the insurgents withsincerity and dedication. Our camps, situated in interiordisturbed areas, stood as ray of hope for peace loving people. We were always apprehensive of suddenextremist attacks upon our camps. So we had to remainalert all the time. Officers used to make surprise visits tothe camps at odd hours to check our preparedness.

Havilder Bhuban was a bit of problem for us. He

 was a habitual drunkard. Many a time, I found himlying intoxicated, without any uniform, in the camp afterconsuming liquor. We cannot compromise on disciplinary issues. He used to be taken before the medical officerin hospital for medical examination and based on themedical report he would be placed under temporary suspension. As a suspended official he had to attend roll

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call morning and evening. By some peculiar means, his

 wife got the information whenever Bhuban faced suchsuspension. The very next day she arrives from Agartalato meet me. She never leaves the Battalion headquarters

 without meeting me and placing her request not todismiss Bhuban from service. He was scheduled to retirein another two years.

 Acceding to her request I preferred to award him withsimple punishments. For a change, I posted him in theBattalion headquarters to keep him under constant watch.

 Yet he gave us tormented time by creating nuisanceunder intoxication. Sometimes, idea like his death crept inmy mind. This will be a boon in disguise for his family asit will make his unemployed son Uttam to get job underdie-in-harness scheme. Uttam is presently a truck driver.I often find a huge truck parked in front of his house.

I was soft towards Bhuban for another reason. Itis due to a story of Telegu origin which I had readin some journal. I forgot the name of the writer. Thestory was written in first person, an autobiography of asacked teacher. He was a teacher of a Primary School.He was doing his Bachelors of Education training whenthe incident happened. A female teacher was taking their

class. In course of taking lesson, the trainee teacherhad some doubt over an issue. So he asked the lady for clearing his doubt. Perhaps the lady instructor wasunmindful. She could not hear the question even thoughthe trainee repeated it. It might be accidentally or out of excitement he touched a portion of her wearing cloth.She took serious exception to this. The lady filed acomplaint of outrage of modesty against the student

before her authority. The student who was also a teacherof a Primary school was placed under suspension whicheventually turned into his dismissal from service. He losthis social status; even his own villagers did not believehis version. His children could not continue their study as he fell in serious financial crisis to run his family. One

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day he discovered that his own daughter had become a

 victim of a prostitution racket.In our Battalion there was another Bhuban. He wasBhuban Sarkar, a TSR Rifleman. He too had someaddiction, addiction of marijuana. He was also a habitualabsentee. Often his salary was deducted for remaining absent. These two Bhubans earned the pseudo name‘the two musketeers’ of our Battalion. Bhuban Sarkar

 was a married person and hailed from a village. He was younger of ‘the two musketeers’. At one time ithad so happened that Bhuban Sarkar became traceless

 without any intimation to the Battalion. Hearsay was thathe adopted the profession of porter in the market. Adisciplinary proceeding was drawn against him. He wasasked to resume his duties. But he did not respond,though he was receiving all the papers sent to his

residential address. Even he did not pay any heed tothe notices published in newspapers asking him to join.Finally I had no option other than to dismiss him.

 After my tenure of more than one year I gottransferred. About two months before my transfer, oneday I was busy in the Battalion headquarters inconnection with annual inspection of our unit by Deputy 

Inspector General. One lady with a baby in her lap metthe inspecting officer for assistance. She was none otherthan the wife of Bhuban Sarkar. She told that Bhubanhad deserted her after his dismissal from service andstarted a fresh innings with another lady. He did notmake any appeal before his appellate authority. In sucha situation nobody could be able to reinState him. Iarranged a part-time Job for her. But the question is

 why the fate of two Bhubans is so different despite theirapparent similarities in their nature.

‘Bhuban’ means ‘world’ in Bengali. Half the world isfor woman, half for man as they are being complementto each other. The sky of elder Bhuban was cloudy.But his wife had a clear blue sky like autumn. Sothey survived while sailing through the sea of earthy 

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 world despite stormy weather. On the contrary, the other

Bhuban and his wife had cloudy sky. It may be due tothe fact that they both hailed from an area surroundedby hills and frequented by clouds. So they could not sailthrough, rather capsized. In the words of Tagore:

‘This is just my lazy fantasy,Like desultory drifting cloud,

 All these, Just romanticizing day dreaming perhaps…’

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g

GHOSTLY LIGHT

 We stay at A.D.Nagar Police Quarters. In early fifties,this entire complex and its adjoining places Kabirajtilla,Badharghat Stadium, Milan Chakra and the like

constituted a beautiful tea garden. Our town planners,specially the Superintendent of Police, Tripura was wiseenough to guess the importance of this location close tothe town. The State had only one district that time. Thealignment of Agartala-Udaipur road was the same. But,the arterial roads were just foot-tracks passing over thetea garden.

 There was no water-body in the vicinity. The

probability of natural phenomenon like aleya or ghostly light, sometimes seen at night or twilight over swamps ormarshes was a distant proposition. As a result, the peoplegot enormously frightened by noticing regular movementof a ghost light on this beautiful natural amphitheatre.It used to swim from South-West corner of the gardento North-west corner diagonally, in the evening touching 

the ends of tea plants. Sometimes, it was found to have vanished for few moments, only to resume its forwardjourney. After few hours, the ghostly light traversed itsreturn journey. Common people and tea-garden labourerspreferred to see it from distance and didn’t venture tofind out the actual cause.

 There are some people, in all generations who areinquisitive. One such brave boy, Tarapada, one day 

decided to have a go. He managed to motivate one of hisfriends to accompany him. It was twilight. They lurkednear the present entrance of Badharghat Sports Stadium,by the side of a foot-track. Tarapada and his partnerdidn’t require waiting long. At the advance of the ghostly light, Tarapada’s companion fainted. But, he didn’t leavehis ground.

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 The origin of ghost was a dwarf person, with pitch-

black complexion. He was holding a lighted hurricanehigh in one hand and a bucket filled with materialsfor cooking fast-food, daler bora  in another hand. Theman moved with a limp. After moving some distance,he changed his hand, resulting in the vanishing of theghostly light. He attended Maharajganj market everyday,moving through the foot-tracks over the tea garden afterdusk. The seller usually returned following the sametrack, under the star studded sky with his ghostly lamp.

‘Rater sab tarai ache diner alor gobhire….All the starsof night are present deep into the depth of day-light’. Wedo not have the courage to recognize such Tarapadas.

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g

THE ART OF FISHING

‘Matsya Maribo Khaibo Sukhe’ is a popular Bengaliproverb. It means: ‘We shall catch fish and eat withrelish.’ Perhaps, you are also acquainted with this. I hail

from a rural area. It’s no different for me. Rather, my expertise on catching fish is exemplary. It will be asgood as the protagonist Apu of Pather Panchali. Wehad our own pond at Dharmanagar, my native place.Naturally, I ventured my tricks quite early. I was just fourto five years old when I prepared my first indigenousinstrument. It was very much innovative. The fish-hook 

 was made of a piece of metallic wire.An arum stem

served the purpose of indicator (   fatna  ) and a bamboostick, the fishing-rod. A thread from the kite’s spool gaveperfection to the instrument. With rice as bait, it was thesimplest of the tasks to catch Punti fish  (Puntious chola)or Puti fish  (Puntius sophore).

 As I grew up, I got the license of using a factory-made fish-hook. By that time, the instrument and I

became complementary to each other. My nick-name isRanju. It has its origin in scientist Wilhelm Rontgen. My parents were ardent lover of the scientist who inventedX-rays. The elders used to say:Ranjan Rashmi, Baay Borshi …. Rontgen Ray angles fish.

Soon I earned further expertise. I ventured incatching fishes other than Puti. Occasionally, it used tobe Lacho or Bata  (Labeo Bata). Sometimes, it was common 

carp (Cyprinus carpio). There was change in the use of bait. Earthworm was no longer an eerie thing to me.Rather, I felt comfortable in using it in fish-hook. Oneday, I was angling in our pond very early in the morning.

 The bait was a mixture of wheat and molasses. Suddenly,it had become a real problem for me. I was expecting some tiny fishes. Instead, a giant fish ate the bait. The

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 very next moment, it started moving vigorously in the

 water. I was scared if it tore the thread. I released thefishing-rod to reduce the tension on the thread. Instantly,the creature moved into the middle of the pond. In fact,the tip of the submerged fishing rod was only visible. Iraised alarm. Soon, the elders also joined me. The fishpreferred to encircle the pond. It came close the banks.

 The water was shallow. My father went inside the pond.He caught hold of the fishing-rod. It was a scene to

 watch. The fish was guiding him. It was, as if Bhagirathguiding Goddess Ganga to the earth. After some rounds,the aquatic vertebrate got tired. Finally, we caught it by hand. It was a Mrigal fish  (Cirrhinus cirrhosus) weighing more than five pounds.

I was around eight, nine years old. One day, my father was catching fish with fishing net. It was a small net. One

requires knowing the art of throwing a net. It involvesapplication of hand and fingers. Without experience, it isalways difficult to spread the net in a full circle. It was anold and repaired net. Water was approximately knee-deep

 where father targeted his net. No sooner had the net went inside water than there was tension in the attachedrope. The water bubbles also indicated the trapping of 

some big fish. My apprehension was that the fish wouldtry to escape by tearing the net or grazing through themud. So, I jumped into the water. After locating the fish,I sat down on its back. My fish ride continued for few minutes. I wrapped its body by pulling other portion of the net. It was really a big  Rui fish  (Labeo Rohita). It

 weighed not less than ten to twelve pounds. The production of  Katol fish  (Catla catla) was

exemplary in our pond. These were generally caughtusing nets. As a part of adaptation, these creatures cometo the water surface for breathing, in the afternoon.Seldom did they take food during this time. There wasone such Katol  fish. It was of gigantic size. It performedthe afternoon exercise close to the bathing ghat. Oneday, I inserted the fish-hook with bait inside its mouth.

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 As it inhaled, it swallowed the hook. Within moments,

it moved like a tracer bullet. It escaped the very nextmoment by tearing the nylon thread.I must mention about another Katol  fish. It was a

pet. It preferred to play with my mother everyday. Shegenerally washed the utensils and rice in the evening.Scenting her presence, it preferred to come as close aspossible to the edge. Then with its torso, it would pushthe container upwards. On one occasion, my motherbrought the fish to the ground with a big bowl. She wasabout four pounds that time. I am sure, she was a female.

 We decorated her with nose ring made of syntheticbeads. We caught her on many occasions with net. But,every time we felt proud to release her. Our association

 with her came to an abrupt end when poachers took heraway.

 The pleasure of catching  Shoul fish  (Channa striata)knows no bound. The species is popular for its greed.From the tender age itself they exhibit their hunger.Mother Shoul use to spawn hundreds of offspring fromeggs. At the infant stage they move in a group. Shoulparents guard them. It’s easy to identify the group fromthe reddish colour. When they turn juvenile, they become

interesting prey for anglers. Generally, an entire lengthof earth-worm is fixed on fish-hook. After covering thehook, a major portion of the earthworm swings fromthe edge. Then the angler holds an open umbrella ininverted position in one hand. With the other handhe places fish-hook with bait in the herd of young Shoul  fish. Immediately, they bite the slinging portion of earth-worm. When the angler pulls out the hook from

 water, two-three offsprings, and sometimes, even morefall inside the umbrella. The bait remains almost fresh asthe spawns yet to develop their teeth.

One requires a firm fishing-rod to catch Shouls  of bigger size. The popular bait is small fish or frog,preferably alive. After firmly inserting the end of fishing-rod in oblique manner inside the ground, the bait is kept

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just touching the water. The bait moves in the water. It

attracts the Shoul  fish. I have caught plenty of  Shouls  inthis manner. Once, one of our pet ducks swallowed baitalong with fish-hook planted for Shoul  fish. One of my aunts brought out the fish-hook, by making a slit on itsneck with a dao. The operated portion was then stitched.

 The pet survived for many years.I really enjoyed catching one special Shoul  fish. There

 was a small but deep pond near our house. It was anabandoned pond. A big  Shoul  fish was the centre of attraction for all fish-catchers. All made their attemptsin their own fashion. Some tried with fishing-rod, whileothers with net, spear, etc. But, they couldn’t succeed.I tried with my fishing-rod. Every night it used to takethe food without being trapped. Its trait really amazedme. Several months elapsed this way. One day it had so

happened that the small fish which I had used as baitdried up in sun-light. In the evening, instead of attaching a fresh small fish or frog, I used the dried fish as bait.

 This time, I was successful. My catch weighed aroundfour pounds.

Lati or Taki fish  (Channa punctata) may be regardedas the younger brother of Shoul fish. I have an amazing 

experience in catching Lati fish. Like all average fishcatchers, I also believe that luck plays an important rolein one’s success. My luck was good enough. Yeh Dil  Mange More …We want more. So, when one of my seniorsgave an innovative idea of enhancing luck, I becamemad. In our country side, dead bodies are burnt in pyresin open area. To ensure proper burning of the body,a long bamboo pole is used for stirring. As per advice

of my senior, I started searching for a portion of sucha bamboo pole with which a corpse was burnt eitheron Saturday or Tuesday. If a portion of the bamboois attached with the fishing-rod, it ensures one hundredpercent success. With much effort, I finally managed onesuch prize piece. It was too paranormal to share withothers. From the morning to afternoon, I tried my luck 

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in our pond. But, I didn’t succeed. Then, leaving the

fishing-rod as it was, I preferred to play game. In thenight, I became crazy about the fate of angler. So, I wentto the spot. A big Lati fish had eaten the bait. Uptothis, everything was alright. Soon an eerie feeling came inmy mind. I disclosed the story to elders. The result wasawesome. My lucky fishing-rod became Sati with the Latifish in the same pyre.

Catching Kanla or Foli fish  (Notopterus notopterus)also gives immense pleasure. When Kanla  fish respires,it creates two bubbles in water. Thus, it makes our task easy to identify the resting place of the Kanla  fish. Thefavourite bait of  Foli  fish is very small fish, tiny prawnroasted in lemon leaf, cockroach and wasp’s egg. Once,

 we met a serious incident in collecting wasp’s larva.Sushen and his sister Sadhana were my childhood friends.

Both are of my age. Their house was located over ahuge area. Varieties of plants were there. It includedfruit plants like mango, jackfruit, blackberry and otherlocal varieties. In one such mango tree there was a

 wasp’s hive. Just beneath the hive there was a branch.It came out from the plant parallel to the ground atan affordable height. Our intention was to extract the

hive intact. Sushen volunteered to sit on the tree branchcovering his body with a huge jute bag. Sadhana andI took the responsibility of throwing stones from safedistance to scare the wasps. The plan worked upto thisportion smoothly. But, suddenly it caught the notice of Rabida, Sushen’s elder brother. Seeing our activities, hestarted shouting. Sadhana and I made escape. Sushentried to make it short by removing his body protection.

 The wasps fulfilled their lust upon him. He was in highfever. It took almost a week for his recovery. There wasbreach of my human rights at my father’s hand.

Catching of  Shing-Magor  fish (Gagata youssoufi) alsogives enormous pleasure. Fishes of this variety grow in plenty in shallow ponds filled with water hyacinth.

 They are fond of earthworms, tiny fishes, eggs of ants,

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 wasps and the like. Before placing the fish-hook with

bait, one should clear a small portion of the hyacinth oraquatic plants and stir the water as much as possible. Thisattracts the fishes of these varieties and they invariably take the food, provided they remain in the vicinity. Early in the dawn and late in the dusk, such Shing-Magor  fishesplay in water close to the banks. Occasionally, they swallow the baits at that time. The peak period of angling Shing-Magor  fish is the summer, which commensurates

 with the Bengali months Baishakha-Jaishta . The best placefor hunting such fish is small water-falls created by drain

 water where it meets with ponds or lakes. There, one willfind heavy concentration of such fish.

I am narrating a dangerous incident. It dates back to post-1971 war period. I was a student of fifth orsixth standard. Around noon, I was angling Shing-Magor

fish amidst rain and thundering. The spot was the endof a drain where it met with paddy fields. Within notime, I could catch two three fishes. Suddenly, there wasa massive thundering. My war-memory was still alive.Seeing the light, I jumped into the drain leaving my umbrella. I took position, as if I was facing an air attack.I followed the copy-book drill of taking position in the

bunkers. Hearing the deafening sound, I could realizethat I was alive. Actually, the thunder struck a nearby big mango tree. It had burnt the leaves of the plant, resulting in its premature death. Even the electrical appliancesof the nearby houses were damaged. It was a shocking experience for me. I still carry this fear of lightning.In course of anti-insurgency operations in hills, I fearthundering more than the bullets of the enemy.

 The thunder storms of summer months Baishakha-  Jaishta  inspire amphibious fish to venture its journey from water to land. During this period, I have caught Koi   fish  or Climbing perch (Anabas testudineus) from someunexpected places. Koi  fish prefers earthworm, smallprawn, tiny fish, grass-hopper, eggs of ants and wasps.I used to prepare special bait for Koi  fish. I had caught

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plenty of  Koi  fish using wheat or flour mixed with dry-

fish and wet cotton as bait. One day, after realizing my empty hand even after few hours of angling, I preferredto leave my fishing-rod undisturbed. After some time, Ifound a Shoul  trapped in the hook. But, in reality, firsta Koi  fish swaloed a tiny fish to get trapped. Next, theKoi  was swallowed by a Shoul  fish. Finally, the Shoul fish

 was eaten by human. Indeed, it was a perfect example of eco-system.

 The use of insecticides in agriculture was sparsely inearlier days. As a result, small fishes grew in abundance.

 The sight of small water bodies, at times allured me likeanything in my childhood days. These adventures were atthe time of returning from school. We the kids used tojoin uncles in catching fish. We helped them in drying the water-body. Then, it was totally a different world to

find out fish from inside the mud. Tasting the fish wassecondary. So, on one occasion I recovered a rotten fishfrom my school dress. It was detected only when I waspreparing for school at the beginning of the week. I hadforgotten to hand over the fish during the week-end.

I was at ease in catching fish with Dharma-jaal , Felun and spear. The literary meaning of  Dharma-jaal  is

‘religious net’. I don’t know how it has been derived.People of Manipuri origin prefer this. They are strong disciples of Lord Krishna. May be, there is someassociation to Dharm. Or, it may be from my nativeplace ‘Dharmanagar’. Felun  is a triangular shaped fishing net with a loop at the middle. After Madhyamik examination, I prepared a chai. It’s a trap for catching fish. I re-cycled the waste materials. At my father’s

advice, I brought some change from the conventionalform near its mouth. Two sets of bamboo sticks sharp atone end and stitched in mat form were placed in hand-shaking position. The water current made little entrancefor the fish to make entry. It is impossible to comeout, once trapped. When I was making the chai, a kitten

 was in our house. It became my dummy for judging the

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perfection of my work. Trapped inside, it failed to come

out on its own. May be by the luck of the kitten, onthe inaugural day, twelve Magor  and two Taki  fishes weretrapped. The chai was lucky for me for quite some years.I even caught a Shoul  fish with this. I had made a few more chais, but none of these gave me so much success.

Crabs cause disturbance to anglers. One day I realizedthat the crabs could be distracted by spreading lentil in

 water. Crabs’ holes are preferred by amphibious fishesfor hiding. One of my uncles, Mihir Nath was expertin catching fish from crabs’ holes. He is no more, ashe had met an accidental death. Before inserting hishand inside the hole, he always preferred to take thename of sage Astik. The prayer to the sage, perhaps,Naagbanshi was for safe-guard from snakes. I used toplace my hand on the other end of the hole.The rest of 

the task was perfectly executed by my uncle. Sometimes, we suffered wounds from Shingi fish . It was very painful. We used to urinate on the wounds looking towards sun.It gave momentary relief. The reason might be due to the

 warmth of our body.Polo is another instrument for catching fish. It’s made

of bamboo and canes in the form of a big cauldron or

dish antenna with a hole on the top for inserting hand.It also serves the purpose of securing ducklings in ruralarea. When a big fish gets trapped inside polo it makes

 vigorous attempts to escape. Then, the hunter puts hishand through the upper hole to catch hold of the fish by inserting fingers into its gills.

Often I used to trample poisonous snakes in questof fish. Once, I even met a python. The meeting with

snakes didn’t scare me during day-time. But, at nights,I really felt scared. So, I inveriably glued myself to my grandmother. She could make out my fear. She had itsremedy in the form of ‘Dhula pora’ . After reciting someinaudible mantras, she usually made a knot in a cleanhandkerchief to give me assurance saying: The Snake isnow tied.

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I put this sacred handkerchief under my pillow. After

a sound sleep, it was my turn to untie the knot facing towards sun. This ensured the release of the snake; atleast that was my belief.

Let us now have a few words on the materials foralluring fish. I used a mixture of cow-dung, soil andpaddy husk initially for the purpose. Soon, I learnt using ants’ eggs, fermented rice and a root, named ekangi  foralluring fish. Once, I tasted ekangi  a day ahead of my exam. I failed in the paper. It might be due to theinfluence of ekangi. Fortunately for me it was half-yearly examination. I had tasted the ekangi roots afterwards as

 well. This time it was with betel–leaf in a Muslim houseat Udaipur. Its plant resembles turmeric and bloomsbeautifully.

 After joining service, I didn’t get much opportunity 

to catch fish. As Sub-Divisional Police Officer, Udaipursometimes we bettered the poachers. At times, withofficer-in-charge Bhushan Dutta of R.K.Pur policestation, I performed boat patrolling at Amarsagar Lake.

 The boats were fixed with special hooks at the bottom.It helps in spotting the grenade-nets of poachers.Sometimes, we found fishes trapped in the nets.

Our present IG of Police, Shri B.K.Ray was postedas Additional SP in South District at that time. Onholidays, we visited a beautiful mixed-firm at Taibandal.Its big lake, curved out of small hills and gorges was ourattraction for angling. This association with the people of 

 Taibandal helped us in solving a murder mystery.In course of my posting as Additional Superintendent

of Police, in the undivided South Tripura district, I

came across an aged cook Ramesh Sarkar in my officialquarters. He is no more. But, still I remember his service.During that tenure of about three and half years, evenfor a single day he didn’t give me the scope to purchasefish. I was a forced bachelor that time. Ramesh hadan uncanny luck in catching fish. During rains he usedto catch fish throughout the night. He was equally apt

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in angling. I enjoyed my time as Commandant, at Fifth

Battalion TSR, Headquarters, Daluma, Amarpur angling fish.It gives me immense pain whenever I remember

the untimely death of Sadhan Nandi. I was AdditionalSP, South then. He was officer-in-charge of Nutanbazarpolice station. One day, we were waiting for the arrivalof Shri Brij Pal Singh, the then Director General of Police at Mandirghat. The dignitary was coming by boatfrom Raishyabari. We spent our time angling  Puti  fishin Dumbur Lake, as the arrival of the VIP was delayed.

 We caught more than one hundred fish in a short span.Nandi lost his life in an extremist incident a few daysafterwards.

Lastly, a question: Does taking of fish enhance one’sintelligence?

It’s no doubt a million dollar question. Fish proteinhelps in the building of grey cells in our brain.

 Traditionally, we used to take fish-heads in our house,on the night preceding Mathematics examination. I feelproud of my mathematical knowledge. My hunch is thatangling improves one’s concentration. It increases ourpatience and assists us in shaping our life.

 There is a popular joke on this. As usual, it’sinvolving a Sardar. He was moved by a common proverb:Bengali people are intelligent, as they eat fish.

So, he went to a restaurant and ordered a plate withRui fish head. In the next table, a Bengali gentleman wasrelishing with fish. His was a dish of tiny fishes. Sardarjibecame inquisitive: Why do you prefer small fish to big fish? Is not it amazing? You have ignored such a big 

head of Rui  fish.Bengali gentleman said: You are taking just one fish-

head. I am taking countless heads. Obviously, my brainmatter will increase manifold.

Sardarji didn’t face such situation frequently. He said:If you don’t mind, shall we exchange the plates?

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OK, for yours’ sake only, I am accepting the offer. I

take heads of small fishes quite often. You taste it today.Sardaji was dam pleased. He started taking the tiny fishes. But, in our sub-continent, one never pays forpassing remarks. Hence, a gentleman, sitting in a nearby table said to his friend: See, how clever the Bengaligentleman! See the price difference. Rui  fish costs at leasttwo times the small fish.

Sardarji realized this. He asked Bengalibabu: You havecheated me.

See, how effective is the small fish! Just taking few pieces you can make out the profit and loss!

Since that day, the Sardars are miles ahead.

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g

 ARNO

(I) This morning, I feel extremely joyous to read a newsitem. It has come out in almost all the local dailies.

 Two bank officials and a private entrepreneur havebeen sentenced to seven years imprisonment and fineson various charges of corruption and misappropriations.Some of the newspapers have even brought out thechronological details of events of this case. Very seldomdo we witness such success story of police andprosecution, these days. Specially, the white collarcriminals move in our society freely without any stigma. I

prefer to congratulate Arno over telephone. It’s for himpractically, the accused persons are behind the bar today.

 Arno Dam is now serving as AdditionalSuperintendent of Police. He was then posted as Sub-Divisional Police Officer. I am not mentioning the place.It will become over crowded. It is a suburban area closeto our capital. The place hasn’t lost its rich resources of 

flora and fauna. I loved this young guy from the very first day I met him. My first fascination was his name;gradually I couldn’t but appreciate his work as well. Thename is a bit uncommon. At first, I first thought it as‘Arnab’, meaning ‘ocean’ in Bengali.

He rectified my mistake: No sir, it’s ‘Arno’, meaning ‘alphabet’.

I could know another meaning of ‘Arno’, ‘teak plant’!

It was a pleasant surprise for me. I could realize my shortcomings in Bengali. I cast a glance upon the queueof road-side teak plants. It was in blossom. The bluishaura of teak flowers made the nature absorbing.

I was Commandant of a TSR Battalion at that time.It was Id, a holiday. I went to a friend’s place. It wasin Arno’s jurisdiction. As I came out after having lunch,

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he met me on the road. He looked handsome with his

tall, slim and darkish complexion. He was quite young. It was his second Sub-Division. Prior to that, he had servedin another Sub-Division for about a year. I ignoredhis repeated request to visit his office-cum-residence. Isaid: I shall visit your office another day, certainly withintimation. Wish you prosper in life.

Over the years, Arno has shaped himself as a very good officer. I appreciated his straight forwardness andunbiased nature in work. He is as upright as a ‘teak plant’

(II) The instant case, for which judgment was announced

yesterday, was an old case. It was a theft case, lodgedby an entrepreneur who owned a rubber factory. Thefactory is presently closed, only its dilapidated structuresare standing. In its prime days, it was quite a spot to

 visit. But, within a span of six to seven years it has seenits nadir. The fall started with the expiry of five years tax

 vacation granted by the government.It was Arno who enlightened me with the modus

operandi of a section of white color criminals.Subsequently, I have come across many more varieties.

 After my interaction with him on the Id day, one

morning Arno called me over telephone: Sir, I want todiscuss with you on a case matter. In fact, it was in my mind that day.

Sometimes, our police officers do not find confidencein discussing cases with their immediate boss. Rather,they prefer to interact with officers, posted elsewhere. Inthis case, Arno selected me as his man of confidence. It

 was week end. I had a plan to visit Agartala. So, I gave

him an appointment.Srikanta Dutta was a native of Umpling, Shillong,

Meghalay as per records. He was in his forties. When heprayed for industry license for opening a rubber factory,every body in this hilly State was elated. He received theindustry license without any hassle. The entrepreneur alsoreceived tax exemption for five years as per Government

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norms. The rubber factory was inaugurated with rapid

speed. The products from this factory could also earngood market in the State and adjoining Bangladesh. But,the slide started from the third year onwards. Initially,there were some labour agitations. The workers didn’treceive their wages for more than three months. At theintervention of labour department officials the problem

 was solved partially. The employees received their back-log wages. But, a good number of workers were sacked.

 The firm couldn’t survive this trauma. After revival, itran for a brief period and then silently it was closeddown. Srikanta Dutta did very seldom pay visit to thefactory. He entrusted the task of looking after the factory to manager Parimal Sarkar. He was a local fellow. Attimes, the owner preferred to shift machines from thefactory to some unknown destinations. Parimal didn’t feel

it necessary to make entry of this in any register.One fine morning, Srikanta Dutta lodged a complaint

of theft of his machinery equipments. He mentionedhis manager Parimal Sarkar as suspect. It was prior to

 Arno’s joining as SDPO. Dutta had reach to elite sectionof our society. No one was ready to accept the claimof Parimal that Srikanta Dutta had shifted the machines

to somewhere else. Police arrested Parimal but failedto recover any stolen article. Rather, on the basis of Parimal’s Statement it could be ascertained that someheavy equipments were shifted from the factory by Duttathrough a local transporter. Dutta claimed that these werenot included in the list of stolen articles. Police failedto detect the case. A final form as true but wanting inevidence was submitted in the court. Parimal was released

by the court after judicial custody for about a month.Dutta received substantial amount from the insurer. It

 was not less than a crore.(III)

 The reference of Dutta resurfaced again. A vehicle of Dutta’s rubber factory met an accident a few years back.

 There was a police case. Police seized the vehicle. It was

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taken on bail by Parimal from the court. Of late, a decree

 was issued from the court of Motor Accident Tribunalupon owner Srikanta Dutta. It was returned by the localpolice station from Umpling, Shillong: Addressee notfound.

 The court imposed penalty upon Parimal Sarkar. Heapproached the court by engaging an advocate. But, hehad to pay a good sum of money for no fault of his.Of course, the court took some lenient view. Parimalmet Arno and narrated the entire story. He disclosednew information about Srikanta Dutta. According to him,Srikanta Dutta was not his original name. He was ratherRahul Adhikary of Beltali, Guwahati who was earlierinvolved in running a chit-fund.

 At that point Arno stopped Parimal: Yes, Rahul Adhikary was a big name in non-banking finance. But,

he met an accidental death at Malda, West Bengal someyears back, though his dead body couldn’t be traced.Certainly he was not from Beltali, Guwahati, rather he

 was from Orissa.Parimal was prepared for this question: I shall bring 

my friend Animesh Das to you. He is a TSR person. He will clear your doubt.

 That evening itself, Parimal brought his friend Animesh before Arno. Animesh was a cook of TSR anda neighbour of Parimal. Prior to joining TSR, he servedat a big hotel at Shillong. There he came across SrikantaDutta alias Rahul Adhikary of Beltali, Guwahati, Assam.

 Animesh declared with certainty, seeing the photographof Srikanta Dutta that he was none other than Rahul

 Adhikary.

 Arno has a friend in the branch of a nationalizedbank at Agartala where Srikanta Dutta maintained hisaccount. The account had been closed more than twoyears back. But, on scrutiny of the application formof Srikanta Dutta, it revealed that the persons whointroduced Sri Dutta were non-entity. The branch

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I Adore