Cakes & Curry Puffs

by Aloke Mookerjee
This piece was written a long time back. A recent short trip to Goa during which a visit to the lovely ‘Mario’ shop in Candolim where amongst all the wonderful Mario Miranda themed items, was a picture of a lovable dog holding a flower by the stem between its teeth. Its caption was so very appropriate to my article that I felt the urge to include it.

Ghatia Tea Estate, bordering Bhutan in the Dooars was, at that time, a small compact plantation of 900 acres with a well laid out factory that boasted of two functional gates – the IN and the OUT! Not to be outdone, the factory building also had its own two entry/exit doors; one at the drying room and the other at the rolling room.

As the 'KAMJARI SAAB' of Ghatia, I was required to be at the office in the afternoons after my field work, to dispense with the day's paper work and dole out the minor 'bichars'* to workers who appeared before me after having escaped the Burra Saab's severe growls and snarls! Through all these proceedings my yellow Labrador Tippy would remain quietly by my side.

Having dispensed with the chores, I would walk down to the factory, with Tippy following at heel, and enter the premises through the drying room door. On my instruction, Tippy would sit outside and wait for me to reappear which I invariably did from the same door. We would then walk back together to the bungalow for the now long gone ritual of evening tea in the veranda!

One balmy October evening, after completing my office work, I entered the factory, with Tippy, as usual, sitting and waiting outside the drying room door. Inside, engrossed in an animated (and typically irrelevant) conversation with the 'Kal' Saab (as the Mistry Saabs in the Dooars were known as) I forgot my devoted dog and left for my bungalow by exiting through the rolling room door.

In the bungalow veranda, the vintage trolley pushed on by my vintage bearer creaked out laden with the pot of tea, cakes and curry puffs. After the busy work day, peace and quiet prevailed. A feeling of well-being was seeping through me gently while relishing the spread prepared by the old ‘Mog’ cook (I seemed to have specialised in old and dated house help!). Despite the tranquillity in the air all around, a feeling of something amiss kept nagging me.

Over my second cup and curry puff, the nagging suddenly yielded results and the benign mood jolted on realizing that my drooling and lovable Labrador by my side was missing! I left my tea instantly and rushed out fearing the worst – that she might be lost, wandering and desperately looking for me. I headed quickly, first for the drying room door where I had last left Tippy waiting.

I needed to look no further for there she was still sitting in exactly the same position as I had last seen her, only now with a distinctly forlorn gaze at the door! Ecstatic at the sound of my urgent call and appearance, she bounded up jumping all over me as we quickly began our walk back with her romping by my side in doggy delight.

Back in the bungalow, Tippy earned a well-deserved extra share of cakes and curry puffs that evening. Elated by the larger than usual helping of the delectable treats, I was happily granted a full pardon and my serious (never to be repeated) sin quickly forgotten.

Tippy lived on for many more years greedy for ripened bananas, curry puffs and cream cakes. She now lies in peace under a luxuriant (still the same I hope) Mary Palmer in the compound of the Borjuli Burra Bungalow in the North Bank of Assam.

Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories!
Do you have a chai story of your own to share?  
Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. 

My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. There are over 120 stories of tea life here, all written by people who have lived in tea gardens. 

Add this link to your favourites: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ 

Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!

 
Meet the writer: Aloke Mookerjee

Here's what Aloke has to say about himself : 'Long retired from tea, but still active in business. Even after all these years, tea remains to live strongly in my thoughts; they were the best years of my life. Other interests? Always loved Jazz music - still do and have written about this incredible genre. Love vintage airplanes (thus my love for Dakotas!) and cars, and intend to make this my next focus.'  Here is the link to all posts by Aloke - Stories by Aloke Mookerjee

Aloke has recently published a book, The Jazz Bug, which is available on Amazon. Read about it here: https://notionpress.com/read/the-jazz-bug?fbclid=IwAR2HjxSU2rY6sq5cX_lzBxJY5oat1i_Z22qKdRRP1Tm77Dqp48B2CAlnGvY 

The Ghost of Carrington

by V.R.Srikanth

Carrington. All pictures by the author

 The area towards the western escarpments of the Nilgiris is often referred to as the Kundahs. More about that later. The westernmost and most farthest estate is Korakundah, where a fellow writer and a good mate of mine, Rajesh Thomas is currently stationed. En route to Korakundah one passes through Thiashola, a tea estate of approximately 190 hectares that formerly belonged to Tea Estates India Ltd., which was a subsidiary of Brooke Bond. The Thiashola marks have for years represented the finest of Nilgiri Orthodox teas.

This story will be in two parts. In this first one here, I will attempt to acquaint you with this beautiful area, and in the second part, I will narrate the story. To the detail minded, one reaches Thiashola from Ooty and Coonoor via Manjoor. It is a total of around 45 kms from both the aforementioned towns.

Thiashola lives up to its name as it gives one the district impression of literally being chiseled out of the previously all pervading shola forests by the early pioneers of the tea and coffee plantation industry towards the mid 18th century. From the Thiashola tea factory at around 1900 metres msl, the road proceeds further up and westward towards the estate boundary for about 3kms as it enters the Thiashola Reserve forest area. About 600 metres further it offers two deviations at a Y junction with the Upper left proceeding towards Carrington ( a division of Thiashola measuring approximately 65 hectares and around 3 kms from that point) and Kinnakorai (which is the last settlement of the Nilgiris on the south west which is about 13 kms from that point). The road on the lower right proceeds towards Korakundah Estate.

The walk or drive from the Thiashola Estate Factory to Kinnakorai via Carrington and our property, Silver Saddle (approximately 10.6 kms from the Y junction and 7.6 kms from Carrington) is perhaps one of the most exhilarating journeys in the Nilgiris and in fact any tea growing area. One climbs from 1900 metres at Thiashola gradually to about 2100 metres at Y junction and Carrington and descends sharply towards Silver Saddle at 1825 metres msl and Kinnakorai at 1700 metres msl.

It is a walkers dream, with sightings - if one is lucky - of Sambhur, Dholes, Malabar Squirrels, Nilgiri Martens, the two big cats, Gaur*, Black Naped Hares, Ruddy and Striped Mongoose, Nilgiri Tahr**, Bonnet Macaques and Nilgiri Langurs. The walk is along a densely forested area inhabited by native shola forests where visibility on both sides of the road is restricted to a few feet on either side through most of the journey. There are spectacular views to be had along the way with a drop to the Kerala foothills towards the west of almost 5300 ft, and the Geddai Valley towards the East of almost the same extent of declivity. The sound of the wind whistling through the trees accompanied by numerous bird calls is constant.

One frequently pinches oneself to believe it is all true and thanks the Creator along the way.

The Kerala foothills, viewed from near Silver Saddle.

Part II

The sound continued for a few minutes and stopped. I started breathing more easily....

Although Thiashola was fairly well known to visitors to the Korakundah and Upper Bhavani area, the division of nearby Carrington was much less so, with visitors to Kinnakorai being the only ones to pass it on a regular basis. That is no longer the case now with bikers and motorists from chiefly nearby Kerala and to a lesser extent tourists from other areas to the Nilgiris, frequently visiting it. However for the major part the area from the Y Junction to Kinnakorai is largely bereft of any human or vehicular presence.

The only connection that residents of Carrington have with the rest of Nilgiris is by the means of buses and other vehicles that pass from Kinnakorai towards Thiashola, Manjoor and beyond. If they miss a scheduled bus, they have recourse to a steeply descending and slippery walk through the shola forest to the Thiashola factory. It is a well worn if not outright dangerous path infested with leeches, slippery rock faces, loose mud and a constantly changing undergrowth. The missed bus at Carrington can be boarded at Thiashola by means of this hazardous 20 minute walk.

The only regular walkers on the road from Thiashola to Carrington, Silver Saddle and Kinnakorai in recent times have been the estate workers, animals and me. In fact I first started doing the walk to Kinnakorai from 2008 onwards when we purchased the property known as Silver Saddle, which was the name given by me to the estate, post its purchase. My wife and I having purchased the property started living in a rented village house in Kinnakorai immediately thereafter. I would on returning from trips to Ooty and Coonoor, hand over my car to my wife at Thiashola and do the 17 km walk to Kinnakorai in the evenings by myself.

Carrington and Thiashola were planted round about the same time in the middle of the 19th century with Carrington having been the place where the first tea bush was planted in 1853, arguably being the first in South India to commercially do so. There is no denying however that Chinese prisoners were used to do this, having been incarcerated there in an open prison called “Jail Maatam,” after initially being brought from China by Clipper Ships, during the Second Opium war and marched up to Carrington from the North Malabar coast. Which brings us to the hero of our story.

I had frequently been informed first hand by amused estate workers that I met en route about the grave dangers that I could encounter on the route and these in the main dealt with passing animals. I have frequently hidden in the shola as herds of Gaur have passed by on more than one occasion and once even watched a pack of dholes*** cross further ahead while thankfully ignoring me. I have also seen wild boar and sambhur**** crossing frequently but fortunately no big cats or elephants.

On an occasion as I paused on a bench at the entrance of Carrington for a smoke break, a worker I used to meet frequently, informed about a ghost that haunted the “Jail Mattam” area or the Carrington Flat as I call it. This involved a distance of about 1 to 1.5 kms from the entrance to Carrington, towards Kinnakorai. I scarcely gave it any thought as I marched along homeward.

Now as a rule I never listen to music by means of an iPod or mobile as I walk. This is mainly to constantly be one with and enjoy the sounds of the jungle. As I covered two thirds of the flat, I could have sworn that I heard footsteps behind me with the odd beating of a stick on the road. I had been for enough walks by then to isolate that distinct sound from others. I paused and looked around to see if it was made by a worker cutting firewood in the surrounding forest or by cattle or its handler. I had a fair idea of the of distance from where the sound was emanating from behind me so although my presumptions of the cause of it could have been ruled out, I still proceeded to wait and observe by way of abundant caution. I observed no one.

The sound continued for a few minutes and stopped. I started breathing more easily despite the fact that I was on a flat path and there ought to have been no cause for even the ‘lightest’ heavy breathing. I still had about a 1 km to walk through in a steeply descending set of hairpin bends interspersed with some straight sections before I passed the southern boundary of Carrington near the second bus stop where I would normally pause for my second smoke and water break.

The noise resumed again after I crossed the first hairpin bend. I could have sworn that there was nobody around as I continued walking after having paused once again. It was getting dark and it was during the period and I was keen on reaching the Saddle early, which was still more than 6 kms away through some really dense forests and one known animal crossing point. The steps with the odd beating of the stick on the road continued and I could have sworn that I felt a tug at the back of my shirt and right sleeve, about 500 metres before the lower bus stop. I lit a nervous cigarette with the dual objectives of calming my nerves and secondly, ensuring that the now christened ‘Mr.Hu,’followed respectfully behind and not anywhere near my sleeves. I crossed the bus stop without stopping and lit another.

I covered the remaining distance to Kinnakorai in an hour which was really good going and proceeded to pour myself a rather stiff whiskey on reaching home. I have frequently encountered ‘Mr.Hu’ on my walks and have managed to calmly accept his presence.

I do greet him from time to time, which although inciting within me a reassuring feeling firstly of comfort and then familiarity, however does no good whatsoever in my self psychological assessment. Happily, I no longer take the support of a cigarette as I have stopped smoking, and also have never since felt a tug. Popular opinion within my immediate circle lends credence to the theory that I kept imbibing from my hip flask whilst on that walk. Which of course, I vociferously and indignantly deny. Thankfully, I have now stopped drinking alcohol too.

And of course, nobody believes my story.

Editor's note:
*Gaur - Indian bison, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaur
**tahr - a kind of wild goat. see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tahr
***dhole - wild dog, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dhole
****sambhur or sambar - Deer, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sambar_deer

Passing by Carrington while on the walk

Meet the writer: V.R.Srikanth

I am a resident of the Nilgiris. I am a retired Corporate Management Professional having done two brief stint as a planter, nearly thirty years apart, mainly in Coffee. I live on my estate growing timber, organic herbs and vegetables.

Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories!
 
Do you have a chai story of your own to share?  
Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. 

My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull.
 Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!