Company Dak

 by Suresh Bakshi

Hello again, dear readers! I'm happy to welcome Suresh Bakshi to Indian Chai Stories. Here are two delightful pieces he has written from a visiting "company sahib's" point of view. Looking forward to reading many more tales from you, Suresh! 

The Clarification 

None of us noticed the expenditure being debited under CAT Account; presumably because the tea estates were going through an unusual year of high profitability and the expenditure so debited was relatively insubstantial. Till of course the boom subsided and cost control became the operative word. None of us in the Head Office knew anything about this 'CAT account. 

Coats and Trousers ? - uniforms for the hospital staff perhaps - Cutters and Tools? Carpenter and Timber? Coal and Tar? These were some of the names the abbreviations suggested.

 Matters of import necessitated a visit upcountry, and after visiting the tea growing areas and the factory, Tim Monroe - the Estate Manager - and I sat in the office. I mentioned to him the decline in prices, the stagnant crop situation, the increase in both labour and material costs and that the Board, polite as ever, had nonetheless made it clear that profit projections had to be realised. We mulled over various problems and finally agreed that profits as budgeted could be achieved by effecting savings on non essential expenditure.

After the day's work was done Tim and I were in the Bungalow, he enjoying a whisky soda and I a beer and in passing I mentioned, ' Forgive my ignorance Tim', I said 'In all these many years its only now that I have learnt of the CAT Account. What expenses are these - Would you be knowing off hand ?!

A puzzled look came over him and he hummed as he thought and took some time to answer. "Oh the CAT Account - expenditure for the milk and the fish - for the cats in the food-grains godown. They look after the rats you know".

"Oh come Tim," I said with disbelief "surely we can't be spending so much on fish and milk for the cats that eat the rats." Tim said he would check with the Head Clerk and clarify before my departure from the estate.

I stayed with Tim and his wife Bessie for three days and was served the most delicious milk based puddings and the most delectable and varied selection of fish dishes each day for lunch and dinner. 

The Receiving End

I am emptying my office desk now; retirement has finally come. Some files have letters seen by none than me. Very private and confidential. Those not required by my successor are best destroyed; of this I think I will be the sole arbiter - I opened the file and I will be its destroyer. One is an old file opened some 30 years prior, the cover a mellowish brown and the papers darkened by age and by the gloom of their preserve.

Oh the naughty indescretions! These secrets are best destroyed and in they go to the shredder. I am about to destroy this particular letter but reader you may wish to share its contents. Old Tom Mackintosh of Morabund Tea Estate - dead for some years now, and the estate too sold. He had addressed it to me by name :

" I have to confirm my telegram of today's date reading 'Most urgent airfreight one dozen Aersol Insecticide Bombs, overrun by cockroaches'.

The above are required immediately to control the hoards of cockroaches and fleas which infect this Bungalow The condition of the cook house and surrounds is disgraceful. There is no excuse for the waste,ashes and debris of many months being left in the back compound. A tractor trailer has been working for a whole week and the area remains half cleared. Scavening dogs are in permanent residence.

A new kitchen range (Ray Burn) is required, the old stove being nothing less than a collection of burnt scrap metal.

The bungalow requires considerable repair. Many of the door choukats are rotted inside, only the paint and varnish holding them together.

The hollow spaces left by the rotten wood work and various holes are alive with cockroaches - Sunday's bag amounting to half a kerosene oil tin full. Four cold weather dresses which my wife left out to air last Monday were all eaten by Tuesday - some £50 worth in one night.

The previous Manager has left his trunks etc. locked up in the Bungalow godown, the key for which has been removed by his bearer, whereabouts unknown. Will you please give your immediate consideration and arrange immediate supply.

In conclusion may I remark that it would be a pleasure to be transferred to a bungalow that is well kept. Over the last two years my wife has been forced to assume the role of an unpaid char woman, a character part that is not appreciated."

I beg to remain

your faithful servant 

(TOM) MANAGER"

 

The letter has various exclamation marks but in my hand written notes on the side, sanction had been accorded for the stove and the aerosol cans airfreighted within the week: a notation on the letter reads : 'Wait till the hordes of elephants come in October.' I intend not destroying some letters and will share the many dilemmas faced over the years with readers. 

 

 Meet the writer: 

 

Suresh Bakshi

Born on 15th June, 1943. Studied in Joseph's Academy, Dehradun and St. Stephens College, Delhi. Worked for 28 years in MacNeill and Barry, MacNeill and Magor and The Assam Company (I) Ltd. Began his second career with Welham Boys' School, Dehradun, from where he retired in 2003 as the Senior Tutor and finally for a brief period as the Principal. His interests include birdwatching, gardening. He is passionate about reading. He has had his articles published in the Statesman, Hindustan Times and The Assam Tribune, amongst other periodicals. His wife Reeti is also a keen gardener and has many other interests. Their two children, Diya and Vikram, are both settled in the U.S.A. 

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!

Playing 'Goodwill Ambassador' in Margherita

A very happy New Year to all of you, dear readers! I'm delighted to share another charming story from Murari Saikia today!

It was early March ’84, a balmy spring Sunday morning in the salubrious climes of Margherita. I had just returned from the factory; manufacturing for the weekend done and dusted and the factory locked and sealed.

I was lounging in the ‘jali’ verandah trying to make up my mind on whom to ‘raid’ for some beer and lunch and while lost in my thoughts, I heard someone addressing me from beyond the porch.

‘Sir, sir!'

Peering out, I could make out it was my third Tea House babu, standing a little away from my vehicle.

He looked quite distraught, so I asked him what was the problem, and the man blurted out in Assamese, ‘Sir, my wife is expecting and I had taken her to the hospital, the doctor is away and the sister says that she’s to be transferred to Digboi AOC hospital. The ambulance has already gone out with some patient, we don’t know when it will return!! Sir, my wife’s case is urgent. Emergency, sir’.

I knew what was coming next; he had come to request me to help him with my car - it does happen at times, especially in situations like the one my poor staff was in! I told him to fetch Dhaniram driver and that he should be ready to move, ASAP. The babu bolted and in a short while, Dhaniram was standing outside, to take my instructions.

I told him in the usual bagan lingo, to take the babu and his wife to the AOC hospital and return as quickly as possible after dropping them off, adding that I had to go out, so he’d better hurry back!!

Dhaniram left with my trusty steed - the ubiquitous Ambassador - while I bid adieu to my plans of going out for beer and lunch. I ambled off for a bath and that done, sat down comfortably in the jali verandah with my legs perched up on the center table, a book in hand and a mug of chilled beer by the side. Lunch would have to be a mish-mash of whatever was available in the fridge. The day drew on, but, Dhaniram had not returned, it was past three in the afternoon. There was no means to find out what was happening either. Thinking that he’d be in shortly I went off for a nap. Dhaniram was one of the trusted guys and he drove well too, I reassured myself.

It was past twilight, but, no sign of Dhaniram or my car…I was beginning to get worried while a lot of thoughts plied through my head. Time ticked on, and I realized the other lads and I would not be able to get to Digboi club in time for the Sunday movies either, none of the other Assistants had any conveyance (four wheeled types), I was the only guy with a vehicle, and the other chaps depended on me!!!!

After another nerve racking hour for me, I could see the headlamps of a vehicle at my gate, and as the car drove up the short driveway, I realized it was my car, in one piece; as good as she was when driven out in the morning!

As Dhaniram alighted I was about to bombard him with a mouthful. He disarmed me with a toothless grin under his handlebar moustache, and with a flourish brought out a folded piece of paper, ‘from the babu’. On my query as to why he was late, Dhaniram in his own way informed me that 'the babu requested him to wait, and he had to take the babu to the market to fetch some things, and babu has explained everything in this letter. I was fuming at the undue liberty my staff member had taken and mentally made a note to ‘give it to him’ at some point of time.

Dhaniram stood by, while I was seething in anger as I read the note which went thus:

“Most respected Sir,

I take pleasure in bringing to kind notice that wife has fine baby boy child. 

I beg your kind pardon for not releasing Dhaniram and vehicle quickly, I was without help and movement. Kind Sir, I thank you deeply, my wife also. Sir, the baby would not be there without you. 

Your ever obedient,

Shri……” 

My wrath vanished in a jiffy after reading the note...the baby would not have been there without me!!

As they say, it’s 'cha ki baat' - it could only happen in a tea garden!!

Meet the writer:

Murari Saikia

I was born in Dibrugarh in 1959 and grew up in Shillong. After finishing school from St. Edmund’s College (School Dept.), Shillong in December 1975, went off to Delhi University and graduated from Ramjas College in 1979. Joined FSL (Nestle) around mid-79 and was in Calcutta for a short while and thereafter joined tea in 1980-81 - almost by accident!! 

After a career spanning 36 years in the plantations of McLeod Russell & the Luxmi Group, I retired from the gardens in 2017. But, the love and the lore of tea have not left me. I am still actively involved with the industry currently with Parcon (India) Pvt. Ltd as a Visiting Advisor. 

It’s always a pleasure visiting the gardens and meeting up with some very good old friends who have weathered the storms together, and as always it’s also a treat to meet the younger generation of planters and get to learn a thing or two from these lads too, while throwing back the sundowners!!

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!