Tea Tales & Chotta Sahibs

by Inder Nain

The endless carpet of dark green tea under the dappled shade of the Albizia Chinensis gave way in places to patches of natural forest... My escapes into these little gardens of Eden were always a delightful respite

I joined a Dooars tea estate in the spring of 1986. It was ruled by a grand old Burra sahib. Only, I discovered to my dismay there was little 'grand' and  a lot of 'old' about the Burra Sahib...he was soon to retire.

Be that as it may, I was only allowed into his presence three days after my arrival at the estate. He grunted a welcome in response to my “Good evening, Sir”. I saw little of him after that - to my relief.

In any case I was busy making sense of this mesmerizing world I had stumbled upon. It was lush & green & humid and abuzz. I was “Chotta Sahib” in charge of 200ha of tea and over 500 workers and their lives. Cycling to work at the break of dawn with the “cucku cuckoo” of the Indian cuckoo in my ears and the responsibility of putting 500 often belligerent workers to task weighed heavy on my mind.

The grass was green & wet from the night’s downpour, the sun shone through the trees in misty rays, branches hung low with weight of the moisture. The air, pregnant with designs for the day. I was often amazed, even excited at times but always a little scared. Took a deep breath and pedalled on, noticed a little, learning a lot.

The endless carpet of dark green tea under the dappled shade of the Albizia Chinensis gave way in places to patches of natural forest, where droves of “greeners” nested in a large oak, the silk cotton trees reached for the sky and alien gulmohur added colour to the greenery. My escapes into these little gardens of Eden were always a delightful respite.

The Jaldhaka river ( pix from https://mysticdooars.com/jaldhaka )

I learnt of the workers separated by race & tribe. The giggle of the young Adivasi maidens was, compared to the continuous chatter of the Nepalese damsels, a different rhyme, and my young heart did flutter at times!

If one thing described the reign of the new Burra Sahib it was 'procrastination' of  a mind-numbing scale

Time rolled on, and I moved from the bicycle to the motorcycle. The Old Man’s gruffness & grunts gave way to the unending drone of the new incumbent.

If one thing described the reign of the new Burra Sahib it was 'procrastination' of  a mind-numbing scale. He firmly believed, 'When something could be delayed to tomorrow it should never be attempted today'. His dithering delays were never more apparent than at times when Burra Babu confronted him with a cheque to be signed, payment for some unfortunate supplier.

He started out with feigned gusto but soon got stuck on the upright of the 'K' (his first initial). He scribbled and scratched on the K for so long it tore right through the cheque. At the first sign of distraction he flung the cheque book aside, "Burra Babu let’s do this later". The poor supplier would have to feed his children another day!

It was time for my annual leave, in fact it had been time for about twelve months, but the man just wouldn’t give me a firm answer.

"You can go after the pruning!!" he would say.

When that came around, "Go after the LP plucking!" ...and so on & on it went.

I kept up the badgering however, and he finally snapped, "Go today".

"Thank you, sir", I said and left.

The only ticket I could manage was a 'waiting' in the 2 tier AC of the Tinsukhia mail that night. When I reached NJP Rly Station, the train was 3 hrs late. Waiting on the mosquito infested platform, I met another hapless young planter in a similar predicament. We would be 'humsafars' on this journey; relief was writ large on both our faces.

Together we managed to push through the throngs as the train arrived and we reached our bogie. We heaved a sigh of relief in the AC as we took up position in the aisle and sat down on our suitcases. The train soon pulled out of the station to our greater relief, and we believed we had made it. To hell with the 'sleepers we would manage very well in the comfort of the AC, it was only a day & a half after all! But that was not to be….

We soon forgot our discomfort; chutti blues were sinking in 

The man in the black coat and stained white pants was soon upon us.

He checked our tickets& shouted back, "Yeh to baiting hai. Aap bahar niklo!"

Our pleas for help had little effect - never realised that an INR20 note would have easily achieved what our appeals didn’t.

Anyway, at Katihar we were thrown out of the comfort of the AC. We were soon scrambling to get into the unreserved compartment already bursting at its seams. Scramble on we did after much pushing & shoving but barely, hanging precariously at the door as the train pulled out of the station again. The heat & sweat didn’t rank low on our attention, but staying on the train needed all our focus.

As the train trundled on, we slowly nudged a little deeper and settled down in the doorway. Dare not push any further, the doorway was certainly more comfortable - but more importantly, the stench from the sweating unwashed horde inside was a bit more bearable with the wind in our faces! 

We soon forgot our discomfort; chutti blues were sinking in. We exchanged stories about the pruning and the plucking and our unpredictable Burra Sahibs. The train kept its gentle sway as the country rolled by, Jhaal Moorie gave way to Aloo Poori as  the train pulled into Mugal Sarai.

We tried it all, boiled Anda & garam chai, thanda soft drink and everything that passed by. Germs would be sorted out later, we were going home. We got to know each other and a few of the closely squashed fellow travelers a little better, helping each other pass on food or cold bottles of dubious Bisleri, helping with the luggage when someone was getting off or on, and the night had soon slipped past our weary eyes.

I woke up with the sun in my face and on the diesel engine bellowing clouds of smoke as the train took a large bend. The whole countryside was awash with the orange hue of the early morning sun. As the sun ascended into the sky and the heat started to bite, the train rolled into Kanpur. Delhi was not far and it was nearly home…and it didn’t bother me that I had a five hour bus ride after getting to Delhi.

Nizamudin Rly Station was a cacophony of sounds as the train rolled in. the overwhelming cackle the swarms of the Indian Myna, the yells of the coolies hurrying along the slowing train, faint sounds of Amir Khusrau’s songs sung at the Auliya’s dargah…but I heard none of it. Heard not the screeching announcements, nor felt the coolies tugging at my luggage.

Groggy & tired I pushed through and rushed for the toilets. I jumped back at the sight of a strange, dark, ghostly face staring at me from the mirror, he jumped back too, surprisingly! It suddenly struck me, all the diesel soot from the engine had covered my face a ghostly black, thanks to the seat in the open doorway!

Never again was I going to fall for “Go today”.

Meet the writer: Inder Nain

Inder in his own words: 

Inder's life & times
Little brains & ample mind,
No common sense to hold me behind,
I push on..

Lucky breaks & simple takes,
Keeps me smelling the roses - 
and whisky's fine,
Leaving little room to whine.

And here is the 'practical version' as his wife calls it: 
Inder Nain worked for Goodricke Tea for 15 years in the Dooars and Assam before moving to Kenya in 2000. He worked with Sasini tea and coffee before moving on to start his own rose farm in 2006.  He is now successfully settled in Kenya growing roses.

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. You will find yourself transported to another world! 

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