Laluda

ACHIEVER SERIES - 2

My first Achiever generated some debate but the person I am featuring this time will certainly not. A post dedicated to all the dedicated kajer loks that I have ever known.


I grew up in a typical ekannoborti poribar. Like any other such poribars, ours too had its hordes of kaajer loks. At any given point of time there would be about a couple of Madons and Ganeshes for the oportolla and the archetypal Thakurs and Ganesher Maa for the nichertolla. One among such was Laluda.

Laluda came to our house when he was 11. A time when I was not born. Orphaned very early in life, Laluda was left to fend for himself by his two older brothers. Both were making a decent enough living as gowalas in Basirhat. My grandfather picked him up from there.

An illiterate, Laluda used to do the odd job in the house. From pouring bodnas of water on my oshuddho Thakuma to cleaning the house to attending to all the formaishes of my two pishish. He continued doing this for the next six years of his life till he was about 17.

But Laluda had never come to terms with what he was doing in life. What set him apart from the other kaajer loks was his self esteem and his sensitivity. Thus one day, after many incidents, his pride was finally pricked and he left in a huff.

But no more than a year had passed, Laluda was back. May be, we were more like a habit which he could not live without. Or he had too much love for us? Or did he realise that 6 years as a daily hand had left him ill-equipped for a life outside?

It could possibly be that my grandfather realised it too. During his lifetime has was responsible for changing many lives for the better. A reason for which my Dadu is at the top of my list.This time he helped Laluda learn to drive and get a driver's license. Within a couple of years Laluda was our designated driver.

As a driver Laluda was finally at ease. He now had a skill with which he could differentiate himself from others. Strangely after 5 years Laluda ceased to be our driver but he continued living with us. I realised that he had moved up the value chain and became my Dadu's shadow. Following him around throughout the day and running his errands.

But like all good things this too had its twist. May be, Laluda realised it was coming. Dadu was ageing and with it, so was his poshar. There was hardly any to carry forward his legacy. He became what I call another "Chobi Biswas of Jolsaghar". Neither could he afford a driver or a personal errand boy.

As an aftershock, we moved to a smaller house in Salt Lake. Our poribar was no longer ekannoborti but Laluda moved along with us. But Laluda was no longer drawing a salary.

During all this time I developed a deep affinity for him. Right through my childhood since I gained consciousness Laluda was my most dependable companion. After the birth of my brother when our cot was too small for 4 people I shared the bed with Laluda. He even accompanied us on our vacations.

Finally a couple of years before Dadu's death Laluda decided to move on. He thought he was becoming a burden.

I was in Class VI then. I do not have much details of his life beyond that. Of what little I know he started off with driving matador vans and finally managed to buy his own tempo. Last heard he had graduated to own 2 matadors and was plying his vans between Calcutta and Basirhat. One of the vans was even used to ferry my biyer totto.

He also got married and is blessed with a son and a daughter. He had invited us to his house. I was out of station and could not go. They live in a single room. But it looks larger than it is because of the warmth that its inhabitants exude.

Recently he had called to inform that his son has got a star in Madhyamik. He wants to study science which Laluda can ill afford. However his tuition teachers have waived their fees. And this has given them the courage to acquise to his son's dreams.

During the most difficult times Laluda was always around us. It is why we share a kind of bonding. He was the first to arrive when my Dadu died and held onto the khatiya till the last. A look at him that day made me feel that he had lost a father.

So when I heard of his son's achievement I felt very happy. But I feel bad that I am no longer part of his story. There is a guilt that we could not be of any use during his struggling days. Which is why I feel he is justified when he complains that we do not keep in touch with him.

But his story is moving towards a happy ending. A story that is the exact anti-thesis of another story that I am witnessing.

The story of a woman of roughly the same age who, at one point of time, used to have 3 helping hands around her. It is the same woman for whom Laluda left our house the first time round. She now has to run from post to post for daily subsistence. Her son not having passed Class VII now wanders aimlessly. A story of plentiful waste and sloth.

Both their stories had crossed path. And both are providing me answers to a lot of questions that spring to my mind