GOOD OLD DAYS
Kalidas festival in historical Ujjain
by Sayeed Ahmad
Kalidas
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Part II
One day I accompanied the owner of the hotel to a place sixty miles out of Ujjain. We passed through forests and villages to reach the well-known village of traditional dyers, who had lived here for centuries, maintaining a family heritage. Mr. Jain the hotel owner used to assist them in marketing their fabrics through a shop in Ujjain. Most of all the artisans were Muslims, Mr. Jabbar being the head of the clan. I was informed that the mud and soil of the river bed gave a special quality to the water in which the dyed fabrics were soaked and washed. The dyes were vegetable dyes made from different herbs, barks and leaves of the area. We had taken some lunch with us but the artisan's offered us hospitality of their simple breads and vegetable items. The artisans told me that the river Sipra had existed since king Vikramaditya's time, and although it was somewhat shrunken now, but still gave their products in particular quality. The juices of madar, hortaki, chirota were collected from the local plants. I purchased one dyed sari and one bed cover from the dedicated artisans. We left the village at dusk and returned to Ujjain before night fell.
An interesting incident took place when a resident Bengali couple living in Ujjain saw my name in the papers as a visitor-lecturer from Bangladesh. He decided to attend the evening session and thus meet with me. I was delighted to meet a Bengali in this far flung part of India, and when he invited me to his house I went along. I met his wife who was teaching Russian in Ujjain University. They had met in Moscow University a few years ago and decided to get married. Now they had lived ten years together. They had a ten year old daughter. We sat down to dinner when the Bengali gentlemen told me about a sentiment he felt to return to Bangladesh, from where he originated. He had been trying to get a visa since five years but could not. Neither his wife nor daughter were inclined to go and live in Bangladesh. He had spent long days and much effort trying to get Indian nationality without any avail. After hearing this story and after the dinner I thanked them and the gentlemen accompanied me back to my hotel. He was a sad man. He did not know when, or if ever, he would see his home land.
Next day in order to go to Bhopal I teamed up with a Bengali scholar who had made Madhya Pradesh his home and was living with the 'adivasis' indigenous tribes, since last 45 years. He had come here as a young man and fell in love with the local people. He used to travel sometimes between
Ujjain and Bhopal. He told me fascinating stories of the customs and rises of the 'adivasis'. Another professor of Ujjain University also accompanied us.
He was a volatile man and cursed Habib Tanvir, the playwright and his cohorts saying that he was prejudiced towards Hindus. I was amazed to hear
this because I knew Habib bhai's broad outlook and secular belief. The lecturer however insisted on his point and said that some groups had picketed against Habib Tanvir in Ujjain. I preferred to be discreet and not argue back, or get provoked.
On the main highway I suddenly saw a large slab with the name 'Bidisha' on it. I quickly enquired to the Bengali scholar whether this was the famous place, Bidisha of classical times. He said yes, this was the ancient site and narrated stories of that great empire. I came to know that now there was a move to give Bidisha a separate status. I quote from Jibananda Das's poem "Bonolata Sen" translated by Fakhrul Alam.
"Her hair was full of darkness of a distant Bidisha's night
Her face was filigreed with Srabonti's art work".
I had a booking at Asoka Hotel where I went for rest and a meal. Then I was informed that my onward journey to Delhi was uncertain, as the train booking had not been done. My friend suggested that I take a chance to catch the 10 pm train. Accordingly I went to the rail station taking a packed dinner and when the train arrived I found there was no seat. The ticket collector said he could not accommodate me, unless I bought a First Class ticket. Not wanting to miss the chance I agreed. The train started and I barely could jump in. I found an Indian born Canadian who was residing there for last 15 years. He was very angry that the train did not have a dining car and he was not willing to eat food from the platform vendors. How would he pass the night? I went to his rescue and offered him my well prepared food from Asoka Hotel - chicken roast and parathas. He was greatly relieved and he opened a bottle of Chivas Regal and we sat down to a hearty meal. I enquired what he did in Canada and learnt that he went as an ordinary immigrant starting as a waiter in an Indian restaurant. Then he enrolled in a technical course and had now became a millionaire. Happy and satisfied with our drinks and meal we retired for sleep and awoke next morning to find Delhi station had arrived. I had enjoyed meeting a person whose life was a rags to riches story.
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