The Saga of the White Snake

by Simran Sandhu 

This one is of me in the maali bari and the tall dahlias I have mentioned

So we had moved from Sagmmotea to Nahorani ... Misa club to Thakurbari club. This was a bigger "chang" bungalow with a much longer, winding drive. It was nestled among mature, very tall trees and had some amazing shrubs some very tall dahlias, cosmos and many other varieties of flowers and come winter, the inevitable "baraf", those multi-coloured little gems edging all the flower beds.

Mesembryanthemums

I had a penchant for lamps ( I still do), a penchant almost bordering on a mania, so I had hanging lamp shades made in all shapes and sizes from a local craftsman ; the lamp shades ranged from being round to a square, a hexagon, an oblong, a rectangle and anything in between They were simply and perfectly woven in bamboo .

The next thing was to find a suitable corner to hang them from.. and of course what better place but my happy place- the " jaali kamra",a lovely square space with ageing floor boards and wooden beams and a (not very new) wire mesh to keep the various creepy-crawlies from creeping inside .

Very soon, a corner of my "jaali kamra "was adorned by the six hanging shades of varying shapes and lengths adding a rather mellow and magical ambiance in the evenings whilst we sat around the round table listening to Queen, Bryan Adams over GT's and Rum and Coke. My mother, on one of her rare visits to us counted 45 lamp shades in our house..!

The Jaali kamra with my mom and dad and the bamboo shade in the background

Hindsight is a wonderful thing and now when my very eco-friendly daughter hears of the 'lampshade saga', she is appalled and gives me a very well deserved dressing down for having wasted so much electricity and being one of the millions of individuals who are instrumental in causing the environment harm. 

I cringe, but in my defence, hasten to explain that I needed all these lights to light up the dark nooks and crannies of the huge rambling bungalow with its creaking floor boards,temperamental water taps, stained bath tubs and sometimes leaking roofs .To add more substance to my defence, I also add that these bungalows were more often than not inhabited by bats and lizards and snakes and apparitions in white... more so than humans!

This bungalow was not in the best condition, it was only the first and the last bungalow where I had kept a little "goru"a cow so I had a small “ goru ghar” i.e cow shed made of bamboo in one corner of the “mali bari”!

One of the three chowkidars (that we inherited) was a surly, middle aged chap, one of the very rare workers who supported a sizable belly. He was obviously very well fed and did not get much exercise. He was a man of very few words but over the months since we moved in he began articulating a bit more. I am not sure if was the locally sourced alcohol or the charms of my rather attractive, very slim,always pristine, clad in white mini (maid) who had travelled with us from the previous garden.

I was expecting my first born and prone to cravings and also quite moody (as is expected). In addition to the rather abnormal cravings for the very spicy "Haldiram bhujia" that the young mali Neelambar got packets of from the nearby town of Rangapara (in hordes without the knowledge of my husband), I was also a bit petrified of the dark nights and of being on my own - especially when my husband was in the factory.

Ranjiv with his sister and brother in law

The portly chowkidar had been instructed to stay upstairs in the lampshade “infested” jali kamra as I watched endless videos of the James Bond 007 series over endless cups of "ketli chai" that was constantly replenished, Marie biscuits and spicy Haldiram bhujia almost soaking in the spicy Maggi hot and sweet sauce ( something that I gorge on in times of stress even now twenty four years after ).

One night - and it was a rather stormy one at that - with the eerie sound of the wind amongst the tall trees...the occasional hoot of the owl, the shadow of the bats as they set about on their nocturnal flights, the rustling of the little rats that I knew had a permanent home in the confines of the “faltu karma” and the maybe even the kitchen amongst the grimy aluminium pots (on which no amount of scrubbing had ever worked) the chowkidar knocked on the door, gasping for breath. He stuttered that he had just sighted a “boga saamp” i .e white cobra near the “ goru ghar”.

He was pale and agitated and profusely sweaty. He said the “ boga saamp” is the undisputed lord of the garden and that it was bad luck to disturb / kill it. He had seen it slithering and moving and he was convinced it could easily slither across the garden into the house!!

I became agitated and tense and in incoherently "walkie talkied" my husband about this. Within ten minutes, I heard the sound of his car and his deep authoritative voice questioning the chowkidar.

Out came the big torch and armed with lathis ,the three chowkidars and my husband marched towards the corner of the garden near the lotus pond aiming to get rid of this white snake !

After a while they all came back ... with nothing to report except some very muddy boots and drenched clothing as it has started to rain. Assam and the blighty do have the one thing in common- the big W-vagaries of weather. The portly chowkidar, to his chagrin, got a firing for leading everyone up the garden path ( pun intended ) in the middle of the night!

Of course, by now it was the beginning of dawn and it being a Sunday, my husband without a second thought rounded up his Wilson 2000 and off he went for a round of golf leaving me, the “golf widow” to my own devices .. yet some more tea and biscuits ...sigh!

That evening, just as we were about to set off for the club, this chowkidar ambled up to me and without quite meeting my eye, said, and I quote,

“ ..Memsahib, hum maalom kiya hai .. woh boga saamp nahin thah .. Wo toh aapka mini thah, woh boga saree mein maali bari mien doosra chowkidar ke saath mohabbat banata hei” 🤣

Simply translated, “I have found out that it was your maid in her “white saree” in the throes of an intimate act with the other chowkidar.”

Of course our good man, this chowkidar, in his inebriated state mistook the writhing in the white saree to be that of no less but of the white snake !

Suffice it to say the bungalow was soon bereft of both ..the mini and her amour !!

As for the “ boga saamp” I am certain it still resides somewhere amongst the shrubs in the far corner of the bari !!

1.Chang bungalow-- A house on stilts.
2.Barf Phool - Mesembryanthmemum
3.Jaali Kamra - Deep verandah with mesh windows
 4.Goru- Cow
5.Goru Ghar -Cow shed
6.Mali Bari- Garden
7.Ketli chai -Tea in a tea pot
8.Faltu Kamra -Guest room
9.Boga saamp- White snake
10.Walki Talkie - Wireless
11.Chowkidar- Guard
12.Mini -Maid

Meet the writer: 

A Word from Simran:
Hello chai people
I left tea many years ago and life has been a real roller coaster; one that I have learnt from and loved every minute of , but the lush green of the tea bushes and the time spent in the “Jaali Kamra”,my happy place, is as vivid today as it was all those years ago. (Wish I could build one here but not sure if I will get the planning permission from the old fogies of the local county council 😊) 

I now live in the “blighty” with my two children and I work for the local government. I paint watercolours occasionally (time permitting ), love reading, antique fairs and long drives in the rolling Peak district. I often surprise all of my British friends when I bake cupcakes and scones , vol-au-vents and stuffed chicken, not to mention serving them in a tea trolley replete with perfectly starched napkins and bone china … a throwback to the "chai" days that I still hold very dear to my heart as I do all the lovely friends and memories made all those years ago. 

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