An Inside Watch - II

Those departed lovers would find their way of life through ups and downs, through different shades of greens, across the Hooghly and Howrah district to Kolkata. But my journey was not along their way. I just came to feel this place.

After that we decided to relive my memory at Barsul, a place near Shaktigarh. Barsul was famous for the Primary Teachers Training Institute situated there. In the year 2005-06 the last batch of students had their training here, and I, fortunate or unfortunate is a matter of debate, was one of them. Since then, a strange conflict between Central Govt and State Govt regarding training facilities took place and the training programme stopped. I being one of the last trainees had a live picture of how a training institute dies due to govt policies.

However, I show my wife our training institute and the surroundings, the places we used to play, chat and sometimes tease local girls. There was a institute for girls too and that was a major attraction of Barsul. A lot of us used to try their luck in persuading some of them in order to have a more secure future having dual income source. Sadly, I could not join them cause a sister of one of my friends was having her training there. There was a great chance that I may be caught and that could ruin my image.( I am extremely image conscious).

The institute and the hostels were full of entertainment thanks to different type of trainees of various age groups. There were some coming just after they reached the minimum age limit of 18, some like us who passed the graduation but was not finding any chance for masters, some teachers who had to complete this training in order to get their promotion. That unique mixture of students made this place an unlimited source of fun.

Barsul is a place with no shortage of entertainment. The Damodar river pass beside it, the DVC canal is also there for people like me who sometimes seeks solitude from crowd. There is a small park. 

But above all the hostel was the most entertaining. There were some who were expert in music, some in drawing and some in poetry too. In our own room, we were 6 boarder. One of us, Ranjit-da was known for his guitar skills, many came to our room to listen him playing his guitar. Malay, an another masterpiece of different kind was famous for his extraordinary beautiful hand writing and quick wittedness. Sudipta was considered as a leader for his deep voice and huge built. Though he was master of nothing but it was impossible to ignore him in anything. Amit-da and Rameswar-da were simple persons with their simple yet valuable opinions. I was kinda Chess Champion there. Boarders from different rooms used to come to check their abilities against me. Sometimes 2 or 3 of them played together against me, only to get confused for the inevitable result. It's not that I was invincible but they were just unable. Later I figured out that they were overly afraid of my next move and tried their best which took so much time that I thought out my next move by then. When they finally had taken any step I was ready for that and my move was extremely fast which confused them even more.
There were Rahul, Milan, Santu, Chandan, Barun, Subir, Bangshi-da, Nasir and so many who enriched my life. Life went on but their memories live.

Barsul was also known for its cultural programmes. Lot of cultural programmes were organised and we were always there not to miss any of the enjoyment.

Such a lively place to live.

But the scenario had changed dramatically. Now the institutes and the hostel buildings are left abandoned in absence of boarders. The place is deserted to become a haunted one. Buildings are being wasted and the place itself is dying. The drastic transformation of this place brought tears to my eyes. I saw a part of my life dying, dying because of some stupid Govt policy. And I am sure many of us would find their part of lives dying too. I went there to re-live my old days and found it lost.

An Inside Watch

It was Sunday and it was a lazy day. So we, my wife and me along with our little princess, decided to make it a little happening. So we set out for a ride!

Although there is no shortage of places to enjoy but we chose a rather simple one. It was the crossing of NH-2 with G. T. Road near Rasulpur station. Here the two roads separate from each other to reach their destination or meet to walk together, the difference is in which side of the crossing you are in. That place is neither very beautiful nor it has a tremendous piece of engineering to show off, but I don't know why it seems very romantic to me. I explained the situation to my wife and she, as she always do, agreed to venture there.

At first I thought to go by our car, but my wife preferred to go by bike. The distance was nearly 20 km so a bike like Bajaj Pulser would not be a bad choice either. So the preparation was done, and journey began.

On our way I show her recent developments around that part of our city, countless shops of infamous 'Langcha', which belongs to Shaktigarh and the Railway Junction at Shaktigarh. Here the railway tracks are devided into two, namely Main line (which pass through Bandel Junction) and Chord line (which pass through Dankuni Junction). Once this place used to have heavy traffic jam due to non availability of flyover and frequent arrivals of train from and to those two lines. But the problem was solved by constructing two flyovers, one for the motor vehicles and the other for Up Main line trains. As the flyover and bypass resolves the problem of heave traffic jam, it created a unique problem for the local people. The main Shaktigarh market which was famous for numerous Langcha shops was suffering from non-availability of surpassing Customers. Gradually the shop owners changed their place of business and re-established beside the bypass which certainly made this place a half-deserted one. (I feel this is the reason why the people of Panagarh, an another city in Burdwan which suffers from heavy traffic jam, denied the proposal of a bypass. Cause once the bypass would be ready most of the vehicles will avail it and gradually the present market of Panagarh would die, because Panagarh itself does not have that many population upon which such a large market can sustain.)

Then came the Pulsit station where the vicinity of the Highway and railway tracks are so close that if someone jumps from the train he would land on a surpassing vehicle on that highway. But our destination was a little ahead. After passing Pulsit the Highway devides into two. One goes directly to Kolkata, and the other continues its journey parallel to the mighty Hooghly river to Kolkata too. Here the elevation of another flyover gives a very distant view of both roads and the surrounding background, covered in green grasses and agricultural field.. Everytime I saw this place a thought comes to me, these roads seemed to me as departed lovers, being forced by the situation they had to take different routes for their journey, but simultaneously they hoped to meet again when they reached their destination.

............ to be continued.