The Rebel (Serial Novel)

                                                         EPISODE-I

It was 1759. The Mughal empire was reeling under the pressure of the notorious East India Company dominance. The provincial governors were declaring themselves independent one by one. The great Mughal empire built by the great Akbar and his successors was crumbling slowly but steadily. There was complete anarchy in almost all the parts of India except Delhi and the surrounding region. After the defeat of Nawab Sirajudaulah of Bengal the new Nawab of Bengal Nawab Mir Zafar gave the Diwani or the right to collect taxes of Bengal, Bihar and Orissa. So, literally the East India Company and the Indian Zamindars began a spree of loot of the peasants who were caught in between the attack of famine and government exploitation which made the life of the peasants poor and miserable.  Especially the peasants of Indigo  plantations in western part of Bihar were a suffering lot.  Peasants were forced to work for the indigo plantation on their own land. Those unwilling were punished cruelly. Disobeying  peasant was tied to a horse and dragged miles away and was left to groan under the scorching heat. . This type of oppression was widespread  when a boy of twelve  years old bore witness to this inhuman suffering. He was Bhavaani Pathak the legendary hero of Sannyaasi revolt which took place in Bengal during 1789. He belonged to the Arrah district of western Bihar. The barbaric oppression of the peasant remained ingrained on his psyche for a long time. The flame of revenge burned continuously in his adolescent heart. After he attained the age of eighteen years  he joined a group of rebels who decided to teach the English Firangis as they were known in those days a good lesson.

   In Chhapra  the district headquarter of Saaran district of Bihar there is a small but deep lake. It is at present known as  Rajendra Sarovar. In those days the lake was used as a swimming pool by the English officials and their wives. Sunday morning was the usual time when the English women used to swim and bask  in order to enjoy the sunny morning. But one Sunday morning turned out to be a  tragedy for  the English women.  Out of the 21 ladies who jumped for the swim 18 were  stuck with arrows that were cleverly fixed on the bed of the lake.  In a matter of few seconds the  whole lake was drowned with blood and cries and shrieks which created shudder among the people around. A great panic enveloped the Company official s and police net was spread to catch hold of  the culprits who were behind this ghastly act. Even after a month of search operation the probable culprits were not caught. But the East India Company officials were determined to punish the perpetrators. From the incident of the lake Bhavaani Pathak and his group was nowhere to be seen in the city.  The group was patting its back on the good bashing on the Firangis who were nursing their wounds like a badly mauled lion.

   It  was the cold month of December and the government steamer was plying sluggishly towards Karhagola Ghaat from where the passengers were to board Bullock cart to Siliguri the gateway to Assam and East Bengal. A young monk was sitting on a bench of the steamer and he was immersed in some deep thought. He was Bhavaani Pathak who had sped away from Chhapra after the lake incident. He was told by a friend of his group that Baikunthpur near Siliguri was a suitable place to establish base of rebels which could take on the British. Several of his friends had also started for the same destination but on different days so as not to attract the eyes of the government spies.   Siliguri and the surroundings were not at all habitable from any standard. Life  was very hard and miserable. This place was the Kaalaa paani of those days where the diehard criminals and rebels were put to die painful death either by Malarial fever or by the fangs of the leopard or to be trampled by a tusker. But the dream of rebellion made Bhavaani more  and more determined to be there which he thought to be the most suitable place for a base of rebels. Bhavaani was no ordinary person. He had the heart of a  lion and the farsightedness of an eagle which could see hundreds of miles away. In those days people were very religious minded and hence they did not take much notice of the monk and fakir  in this distant part of deep forested land. So after days of journey at last this young rebel reached the outer region of his destination. Islampu r was the place where he spent the night in one of the Kaali temple. There he made acquaintance with a fakir who knew Siliguri well. The next day both of them set out for their destination on foot because Bhavaani had spent all his money and the other himself was a Fakir. For our convenience we can call him Ibrahim. Ibrahim was also young but little older than Bhavaani and so he proved to be a good friend and guide for the young rebel from Bihar. Walking was enjoyable and they could get some money as alms which the people would generously give to these young ascetics. It took two days to reach Siliguri but during this time  the two made a lot of new friends who were very valuable in times to come. Incidentally, Ibrahim was known to one Majnu Fakir who was one of the principal organizers of the Sannyaasi Rebellion. One thing I must tell the readers that these two friends travelled only during the day because at night there was the risk of spies as well  as criminals and wild animals which were abundant in the deep jungles around.

                                                       Episode-II

After several days of walk  the two friends reached a busy place. At present the place is known as Matigara but in those days it was known as Machhindergarh. The place is known for its great weekly market which is till now equally famous.  But more than two hundred years back the place was bustling town which attracted the country folk from the surrounding villages. It  was surrounded from various sides with deep and lush saal and rain-tree forest. In the middle lay a vast expanse of land,  where things as small as needle and big as a cow and horses  were readily available for sale. It was Tuesday the day of weekly haat as the local people call it. Bhavaani was fascinated to see this kind of market which he had seen only at Sonepur the great cattle fair of Asia.  He was more attracted by the simplicity of the villagers whose features resembled that of the Mongols. They were mostly Rajbanshis,  Limboos and the Lepchaa tribes   people who  had happened to come there from neighboring Sikkim and Nepal. In those days  Machhindergarh was also a centre of trade with nearby kingdoms like Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan. These were  powerful in those days and used to fight frequently among themselves  for the possession of Baikunthapur which was strategically located.  This military advantage led to the mixture of various communities and races which made the place amiable and social. Myriads of communities and tribes people lived there. The thin population and the deep and lustrous greenery of the place created so much fancy in the mind of Bhavaani that he never thought of leaving the place. Besides.  his dream of freeing India from the shackles of colonial oppression took concrete shape in this very place.  He called the place as new India i.e. Nayaa Bhaarat. In those days Siliguri was a small bazaar where one could buy only bare necessities of life. The real place was the Baikunthapur which was the capital of the Raaykat rulers. Bhavaani was very much anxious  to see the capital city but night had  fallen on the small bazaar and life was about to settle to rest to be awakened for another morning of hectic life. Bhavaani and his friend Ibrahim spent  that night on the premises of the Kaali temple which stood beside the great Mahananda river the life spring of Siliguri and  Baikunthapur. After having some chira the flattened rice and jiggery both the friends lay down for rest talking about  their new sojourn. Bhavaani looked down the strong and gusty Mahananda  river.  Now the river has lost her beauty and grandeur which was at that time. The silvery waves sparkled in the moonlit night as if it was a sea. The sparkling and still water made it very different from Ganga who played and danced with the sandy mud in her alluvial bed. If Ganga was a married lady Mahananda was a maid who was playful and delightful.  Mahananda was fresh from the Mahaladi range of the shivalik hills  which flows just below Tindharia.  The serpentine flow of the river gave its Lepcha name Mahladi that means meandering river. Small boats plied on this mountain fed river and at night fishermen gathered to reap rich harvest of bright fish to add to their daily  earning. For hours Bhavaani looked fondly at this mountainous river  and was almost lost in the cool imaginations about this  great  river. 

                                                      Episode-III

The next morning both the friends awoke to a fresh new life. Bhavaani was by now had become a real sanyaasi. Practice makes a man or woman perfect and this was true for Bhavaani too. The outer form of a sanyaasi had infused in him some qualities of an ascetic. Rather it was not very difficult. May be he was not a real sanyaasi,  but he was by now an experienced rebel who knew the religion of sacrifice the love of fellow beings. Besides, he was a Brahmin by caste and tradition and he cleverly combined in himself the ritualistic temperament with his zeal to serve his motherland. By the time he awoke the next morning in this strange land Bhavaani was a changed person. He was a devout hindu sanyaasi with a greater goal of freeing the motherland from the clutches of the Firangis. He had developed a deep hatred for this white race whom he blamed for the dire poverty and moral degradation which is common among people uprooted from their roots. Both the friends began their journey on foot for Baikunthpur the place of their destination. On this side of the Mahananda there were settlements of villagers mostly of mongoloid race like Lepchas,  Limboos,  Bhotias, Mechias and the Dhimals. Whereas the western banks  of the river was populated with people of Aryan race communities like the Gorkhas, Muslims, Biharis and few Bengalis who were mostyly traders and they thrived on the more populous non Aryans. After a few minutes the friends crossed the road leading to Sevoke about twelve kms from there and entered into patches of villages surrounded by thin  forest of saal, sagaun and paanisaj trees. In between stood sirish tree beautiful with small leaves all over.  On the way they offered their prayers  in temples  and thus they made local acquaintance which was essential for this new mission.  By the time they reached the deeper rural habitations the sun was shining on the head.  Ibrahim was familiar to this place and so he easily followed the village routes when they came to a river Fafri. It is  a small stream which flowed between the dense forest of Baikunthpur with delightful  ease. Birds and insects chattered to the merriment of these young travelers. About two pm they happened to reach a wide stream from where the land rose to a higher plane and it opened its gate to a new land. In the meanwhile a strange sound made Bhavaani a little nervous but Ibrahim was not at all disturbed and he comforted him by saying , Oh friend do not be afraid. It is a cry of chital a kind of deer who graze nearby. There are lots of them who make this place a charming place to visit. But then we have to be beware of the leopards who are always after hunt. After we crossed the gateway as I referred it later on we climbed on to  a big field of grassland where we saw herds of chital grazing  with alert  ease.  We moved towards left from where the forest tract took us to a nearby village. It was a large village and later I came to know that they were Mechias  who were peaceful but fierce tribe. When we reached at the outskirts of the village there stood before us an old Mosque  There Ibrahim asked me to sit under a papal tree and then he himself went inside to fetch water because we were badly thirsty. From inside Ibrahim came with a kettle like pot and a basket full of jiggery so that we could quench our thirst.  While we were busy drinking water a tall man with a medium built came before us and he greeted me with folded hands saying, Namaste Baba. Ibrahim then  told me that he was Majnu Shah the devout muslim who was leading a group of rebels in this distant and secluded  land. The place is safe from the British  eyes and so we could stay there as long as we wished. Besides. the villagers are brave and honest and would not allow any strangers to come in their village. The group of rebels have a profound impact on these villagers and they are very amiable to us. Majnu Shah told us about the Mechias and their life which was full of misery as they have to bear the brunt of the frequent raids on Baikunthpur principality by the Gorkhas who are a formidable power in the region and who are vying with the ruler of Sikkim and Bhutan to usurp this tract of land which was known in those days as the no man’s land. Anyway, Majnu exclaimed, you two must be very tired  and so I would make arrangements for rest. Saying thus he went inside. After ten minutes or so he came back and took us to a small dingy room where they  took rest for few hours. Ibrahim was busy talking with the disciples of Majnu whereas  Bhavaani remain dreaming about this new land which seemed to hime not less than a fairyland. The deep and green forests and small gurgling river with birds chirping all over fascinated him so much that  

he decided to remain at least for few years there. That night passed in that small room of the mosque for a new life which was going to change the life of our hero that is Bhavaani and this place.


                                                       EPISODE-IV

For Bhavaani the first seven days  were like a dream world in this remote village of Mechias called Panchananpur. He not only familiarized himself with the geography of the place but became friendly with the local people who were simple and humble  but very respectful. The village had fifty odd houses of thatches and mud but well cleaned with cowdung water which is considered very sacred to these people. It was necessary too because the region was full of deadly mosquitos. Malaria and Kalajar was rampant with little medical help besides the rural doctors who believed more in occult practices than in Ayurvedic  medicines.  Every house had bunches of a herb called chiraita which was used as a syrup locally made when anybody was caught with fever. Bhavaani knew the process of making the syrup according to the Ayurvedic  system  which earned him respect among the village folk. The day passed roaming around the forest which was  as  peaceful as the abode of a hermit. He used to meet the elderly people of the village and tried to know their feelings for the British rulers. Although in the beginning he felt difficulty in grasping  the local dialect still with practice he began to comprehend  the basic vocabulary of the Mechias which was a little variant of Bengali. Bhavaani was very much impressed with the simple life of the Mechias,  their short and comfortable attire. The men wore a single piece of dhoti a loin cloth and the women clad in hand woven sari which was tied upto their breast. The knees were quite visible which was a natural compulsion for the single attire. The simplicity and the moderation of life also spoke a great deal  about the abject poverty of this tribe which had made them little aggressive.  That was the rebellious spirit which at  times poured itself through the outbursts when these people quarreled among themselves. Bhavaani  convinced them through sheer logic that it was the selfish rule of the British whom he addressed as Firangis and the heartlessness of the local jagirdars who  were the root of their ills. These jagirdars frequently changed their loyalties for their personal gains. Now, the kings of Sikkim. Nepal, Bhutan and Kochbihar were always vying with each other for the domination of this part of land called Baikunthpur which was very important to them from military point of view. This situation was taken advantage by the group of rebel sanyasis who established contacts with some of the rulers of the prinicipalities. Majnu Shah explained to Bhavaani about  the geo-political situation of the region and this new rebel from Bihar also became quite familiar with the local situation. Very soon Bhavaani  earned the reputation of an amiable and helpful person in the area and he became a role model for many of the youngsters who were charmed by his impressive  personality which reflected some blood of the ruling class. Particularly a local boy called Kanu became his  good friend. In due course  of time he  became a  close confidante and a seasoned rebel who could find out the whereabouts  of the white Firangis within hours . Although kanu was thinly built with dark complexion he was agile and quite brave when it came to facing any sudden danger. Kanu had a sister Radha who was fair complexioned compared to other girls of her village. Both the brother and sister used to listen to real life stories from Bihar which made them eager to know about the North Indians about whom the Mechias  knew so little. Kanu was hardly nineteen and Radha not more than sixteen. She was a joyous face in the village and often sang in her typical Mech dialect. The  lyrics which was not so much articulate to Bhavaani but the down to earth mood and rhythm created a deep cord in Bhavaani that he often asked her to sing the song to merriment of Kanu who teased her in a jocular mood. Bhavaani was charmed by the simple beauty of this village girl and used to address her as bone  meaning  sister. But the way she often looked at Bhavaani showed that he meant more than a brother to her juvenile sentiments. Life passed off peacefully for Bhavaani  in this remote village. But Bhavaani  was eager to do something noble and worth noting as he had vowed to free India from the clutches of the unjust Firangis. The next morning was Shiva Chaturdashi or Mahashivaratri the great festival of the hindus.  Like todays in those days also near Macchendragarh about which I have already introduced my readers  there is a Shiva temple called Chandmani Mandir.  A big fair takes  place there where for three days from Mahashivaratris huge sea of humans would emerge from the surrounding  states and principalities to offer oblation to Lord Shiva, the god of ultimate liberation and well being. Most of the men and women folk had gone to the fair to offer oblation to Shiva.  The village Panchananpur wore a deserted look  that day. Very few small children and elderly persons  could be seen roaming here and there with little cause to do so.  Bhavaani sat under an old Banyan tree and was engaged with some serious talk with Majnu Shah when few officials from Kochbihar came in search of one Ramnarayan Mech. Actually, the two middle aged officials had arrived there to collect taxes due on Ramnarayan Mech. But the poor peasant had gone with his family to the Chandmani fair. So the officials tried to take the only cow of Ramnarayan in lieu of the taxes. Now,  Bhavaani was observing this from a distance and taking note of what was happening. Although he was  a newcomer to this village Bhavaani had developed a bond of camaraderie with the fellow villagers. Hence when he saw that the officials were taking the only cow which Ramnarayan possessed he went near the officials and tried to convince them  of the compulsion  and pleaded that  he should give the tax payee some time. But the stubborn tax collector was not willing  to do so.  The other villagers were dumb founded against the powerful tax collectors who had the backing of the authority of the Kochbihar state. Now, when Bhavaani felt that it was useless to argue the point with the officials he flew into rage. The seniormost officer  who had given order to his junior to disconnect the rope tied to the cow and  were about to take the bounty with them that the heavy slap of Bhavaani brought the tax collector to his knees and he fell morbidly on the ground. He made a loud shriek. After recollecting himself in a fit of rage  the tax collector thundered that he would get this man arrested within no time. Saying thus and with a gesture of threat the two officials went back with empty hand. For the time being the villagers were stunned by this sudden  heroic act of their new found friend. But the next moment forgetting the future danger  they out of sheer joy  in no time raised him on their shoulders. When evening settled on the clear blue skies of the village the rural folk  returned from the fair  and everything was related to them. Bhavaani was hailed as the hero of the village and they gave him a new name, Chila. Now, Chila Ray was the great commander in chief of the Kochbihar army who had inflicted  massive  defeat on the Turkish army when it tried to attack the small kingdom. But then the question of Bhavaani’s safety also came to the mind of the villagers. The next morning the policemen from the Kochbihar state must be coming to catch hold of this guest who had by now become their savior. Then and there with the consent of Majnu Shah Bhavaani was sent to a nearby village where Bhavaani would be safe from the eyes of the administration. One  could hardly find the rebel hiding there. He was that very night escorted to his new shelter with two to three villagers. In this way a new Bhavaani was born in this village. In the eyes of the villagers this  person from north India was completely different than the former one.


                                                          EPISODE-V

The first night passed with the air of  a bit of uneasiness common to this kind of happenings.  Although Bhavaani was used to this sort of life still he was a stranger to this land. That night he remained awake for a long time thinking about the rebel life he spent in Bihar. The first euphoria  of the life of a young rebel was over. This young rebel was undergoing a psychological  change slowly but steadily. Comparing to the hard and material life of Bihar  life in this belt was joyous and exciting. There was a human touch in the life spring of this terai belt  which made Bhavaani think deeply about his past rebel life. He reflected about the revengeful  act which had made his friend circle to flee Chhapra. He pondered whether he and his comrades were right in killing innocent women in the lake? How can one avenge the unjust act of the male on his wife and children? These were the questions which were haunting Bhavaani  in the middle of  the night in that solitary village. It was  a rather hamlet in the center of a large paddy field with a deep forest nearby. So it was thought to be safe for Bhavaani. That night Bhavaani decided that he would not take  innocent  lives anymore to achieve his political aim. He remembered the heroic  king Shivaji who had broken the foundation of the mighty Mughal empire. He recalled to his memory how Shivaji with a small band of friends from Malwa hilly tract had been effective against the regular and well trained Mughal army.  So  he decided that he would also create a band of irregular army which would be capable of sudden attack on the enemy. This was necessary also because he had already put his hands on the beehive of the Kochbihar  principality. The police of Kochbihar will surely come next day to arrest him. But if he  is not found there then they would certainly harass  the Mechias. So he that very night called out two of his trusted friends, Kanu and Shyam. Although these two were in the middle of sound sleep they obeyed instantly and came to the room of Bhavaani. Bhavaani straightaway addressed his friends :  Friends! Look, tomorrow or day after tomorrow the police of Kochbihar is sure to come to arrest me because I have offended the officials of  the state.  So we have to be on high  alert and be ready to give them a fitting reply. But how, that was the big question? Bhavaani continued, you all are good archers, is’t it? So two of you would climb upon trees with bow and arrows. From there you will keep watch on the movement of any outsider. Then a third one would be  roaming on the main road a distance of nearly half a kilometer so that any hostile movement could be monitored before it plays havoc with us. The third would carry the message  if any movement is there then and there without losing a single second pass the information to the fourth who would be standing in between the Panchananpur  and the main road. Bhavaani would in case of danger blow a flute as a signal after which the archers would rain arrows at the enemies. In this way Bhavaani planned the first guerilla action which would in future work to the advantage to the Sannyasis and Fakirs in a big way. His two friends were very excited about  this new adventure and were ready to inflict upon the enemy heavy loss if they get the chance. The hatred against the Indian rulers was more intense than the British here because of the inhuman dealing of the officials. These Indian rulers were instrumental in bringing the Firangis to India. Besides, the common peasantry had suffered badly during the great famine of 1760’s when one fourth of the peasantry were wiped out due to hunger and malnutrition. This simple fact was well known to the village folks in this remote part of India. For Bhavaani  life in this part was going to be more challenging and exciting. A great transformation was taking place in Bhavaani the person. The emotional rebel of yesteryears was slowly but steadily turning into a matured revolutionary who began to adapt historical techniques into tools of insurgency though of course in its infancy. India had not yet seen the First War of Independence. Even in the west the great French revolution had not taken place by then. The only revolution was the American war of independence whose heroic stories trickled into the Indian sub continent through the slow moving times of those idyllic days. The three friends woke up at four a clock with the first chirp of the birds and huddled to give concrete shape to their military plan. Bhavaani himself was full of excitement and he did not want to leave everything to  his friends shoulders. Today, the police from Kochbihar may come any time so there should not be any complacency.  Although it was time for a morning walk among the forest which was a favorite pastime for Bhavaani he sacrificed it on the altar of his motherland. Today the freedom of Panchananpur  was in peril. Now, the Mechias are a martial race who are adept in archery. In no time two bows and dozens of arrows were collected.  Kanu and Shyam climbed on two of the tallest trees  suitably placed on two opposite sides adjacent to the village so that the enemy could get showers of arrows from both the  sides. The third Mayanka  acted as watchman on the main road and the other Jadu stood as a link man in between to work as  a signal party in the ensuing battle. Bhavaani himself stood under a big banyan tree  waiting to give the final command to attack the enemy. The battle lines was laid superbly and the soldiers bid time for the orders for the offensive. The ambush trap was laid at nine o clock in the morning and they waited on the treetop for nearly three hours. It was the last week of February and the heat of the sun was being felt deep  through the skin.  But for a long time the enemy was nowhere to be seen. Still they waited another two hours dying of thirst and hunger but the target did not reach near them.  At last Bhavaani told his soldiers to climb down the elephant of tree and asked them to take rest.  He opined that the enemy was making plans and would only strike after two to three days. But the duty has to be done for at least two hours in the morning in case of emergency.  Vigilance is the price of liberty, Bhavaani advised his comrades. Never underestimate the enemy who may strike anytime from anywhere. This was the first lesson of the young freedom fighters.  That day was  a tiresome one but full of energy. Bhavaani could not explain from where these poor young people got this tremendous  energy. Night descended on the hamlet to care for the children of the motherland, so the earth could heal the deep wounds of time inflicted in the hearts of our brave boys.


                                                               EPISODE-VI

For a few days life at Panchananpur was little cautious and alert. Everyday newly formed patrol party went on routine vigilance. After few days passed peacefully without any untoward happening the party decided to limit the vigilance to a few hours only. Bhavaani consulted Majnu Shah the seasoned person in the village who told him that we should be on alert because Kochbihar police must be planning and waiting for the right time to be on the offensive. So, now we too have some space to roam around the village and  see for us  the life of the Mechias as it was during those turbulent days. These people have been residing in this  region for the last three thousand years. They are peace loving people who due to call of destiny had been forced to leave their ancestral land in the far north west and so they gradually settled in Varanasi. But these people from the hills felt the tropical climate of this city unbearable and hence they migrated after few years towards the east and finally they settled on the northern bank of the river Mechi which at present divides India and Nepal. This community got their present name Mech or Mechias from this river on whose bank they lived for the next thousand years. Slowly but steadily they spread towards the Terai region of Darjeeling district and the Dooars. Bhavaani was listening about the history of the Mechias from Majnu Shah in the old Mosque. It was evening that day and the weather was pleasant. So, the two friends decided to have a walk around the village so  that Bhavaani could get a bird’s  eyeview of this new land. Most of the huts of this village were made of bamboos and thatch. The floors were nearly two to three feet above the ground apparently to keep themselves safe from the wild animals like elephants and leopards which raided the villages at night. For them cattle and goats were easy hunts.  Rather life in this part of the land was quite unsafe because of the deep forest which surrounded this village. In some parts tigers too created menace for the villagers during the night.  A big log was used as a stair to climb the hut. The womenfolk were hardy and worked on the handloom to weave clothes which used to be sold in the market. That was the additional earning which gave them cash. The farmers cultivated for their sustenance and they practiced Jhoom cultivation. In this type of cultivation forests were burnt to make the soil fertile. Before burning the forest they worshiped the mother Earth who was supposed to increase the fertility of the soil. The Mechias sang and danced before the forest was put to fire. It used to be an enjoyable scene when the young sang  and danced to the beats of the drum and simbal. Permanent cultivation was only introduced when the British rulers restricted them from cultivating forest land. The Mechias also reared cattle, goat, pig and fowls. While the two friends walked the narrow path of the farmland some of the villagers were seen sprinkling water on the paddy crops. While they irrigated the girls especially sang folk song which was sweet as honey although Bhavaani could not much make out of the words. It was March and wind blew in abundance through the forest and caressed the simple villagers who enjoyed the soft sunshine. Farther they saw a crowd  gathered around and so the two friends became eager to know what was going on.  From a distance Bhavaani could see young girls and boys in pairs dancing to the tune of drum. The girls and boys were dressed in bright colours. A sharp weapon hung around their waist which was the Dao. When they reached the spot the organizers quickly made seat for their guests  among whom they showed more respect to Majnu Shah. He told Bhavaani that they were presenting the war dance which was very popular in this community. This dance showed the ancestral history of the Mechias who had struggled hard against the nature as well as the local tribes who resisted in the beginning but later on they were subdued by the fierce Mechias who were very amiable and social during peace. . Life was very hard in those days told Majnu Shah who was also enjoying the dance with deep rapture. This also shows that these people still have the battle instincts in their blood.  Time and situation might have changed but the compulsion of survival and struggle for mere existence still continues. We have to utilize these instincts for the liberation of our motherland . By now darkness had descended on the farmland and everything was quiet but something was not quiet in the minds  of these two rebels. They thought on the ways of making this village into a strong fortress of rebellion. By the time they reached their village it was ten o’ clock night. Bhavaani emboldened by the calm atmosphere once again returned to Panchananpur. His friends and neighbours welcomed him with the warmth which was  typical of villagers in those days.




                                                              EPISODE-VII


 Months has passed since Bhavaani left  his ancestral home. The popular festival of Holi was very  near and his boyhood days reflected before his mind. He remembered how his mom cleaned the house amid the preparation for the festival of colors. The whole atmosphere of his village surged to  life. People rejoiced to talk about the previous festival and their plans for the coming one. He remembered how they had enjoyed the burning of the holy pyre which is known in Bihar as Samhat. You could not imagine the enthusiasm of the young  boys who tried every sort of tricks to get the holy pyre burn to its zenith. Firewood and wood  of all sorts were stolen from the neighborhood. Rarely they were caught and the neighbors too let these boys go scot free because they were trying to make the holy pyre a grand  success.  Bhavaani was lying on his bed in the evening and trying to recollect those high spirited moments .  Sometimes his eyes moistened as he remembered his mother and father who were at a long distance from him. He could not forget that night when one of his friends  had made a long bamboo of mashaal which we carried to the stipulated place in the middle of the farmland. The scene at the holy pyre reminded  Bhavaani about the legend of Bhakta Prahlaad who was carried on her  lap by Holika the sister of his Father the Daitya King Hiranyakshipu. Well, Holika had been gifted the boon that she would not burn though see sits  on  a fire. Bhakta Prahlad was the loving devotee of Lord Vishnu and hence his father wanted to get rid of this devotee once for all. But lo! due to the God’s grace the  boon did not materialize and Holika was burnt to ashes whereas the devoted Bhakta Prahlaad survived without a single scratch. This was the power of truth that prevailed over the  demoniac  king Hiranyakshipu. An idea struck in the mind  of Bhavaani and he immediately jumped with joy on his bed. The next Tuesday was the previous  night of the Holi festival. He instantly called his friends Kaanu and Jadu and  confided to them that they were going to celebrate Holi in this village. At first these young Mechias could not make out what Bhavaaani was talking about. Later on he explained to them about this great festival. Of course these young people had heard about the  festival of colors but had not seen for themselves. So, they were too excited to organize this festival whose popularity was limited to the North Indians only. Bhavaani  who by now had achieved the maturity of a conscious rebel who  explained the political significance of this festival relating to the background scenario of the nation’s present dilemma.  He explained to them that we are going to burn the Holika of the British aggression and have to establish the supremacy of the truth and justice which was represented by Bhakta Prahlaad.  Bhavaani  knew well that the rebellion can only be sustained by constant ideological battle for  which our religious scriptures were an  effective   medium. From thence, Bhavaani began to tell his friends as well as the adults about the great stories of Ramayan and Mahabharat which according to  him were  symbolic battles  of good over evil and justice over injustice. Kanu and Jadu and also Radha took keen interest in these stories of the distant past. Regularly these  friends sat around the village fire in the late evening which used to be the meeting place for the village folk. In the beginning there were a few listeners but gradually the number swelled steadily.  Very soon the discoursing place was shifted to the village panchayat which had ample place for the villagers who gradually drew strength from this legendary stories after the hard days of work. Gradually  Bhavaani’s name as a devout religious person gained ground in that forest settlement.

   Readers must be somewhat feeling dull about  descriptions of our  our hero and so I want to take your curiosity to another  spot lying nearby. Panchananpur falls in the Baikunthapur sub principality under the Kochbehar state. Sishu Singh the elder brother of the founder of the Kochbehar Bishu Singh had laid the foundation of this sub principality. But later on fell out with his brother and he declared himself independent. As Sishu Singh was also the Prime Minister and Commander in chief of the Kochbehar army no one questioned his declaration. For decades Baikunthapur prospered under the able administration of Sishu Singh who had taken the title of Dev  Raikat as the new  dynasty later came to be known. But after him the other rulers of this principality were not so strong enough to resist Kochbehar and war continued for a long period in which large scale destruction had ruined the royal palace. Nowadays, the palace of Baikunthapur is deserted except for some of the rebel Fakirs and Sannyasis who have made it their safe haven.  The descendants of course live nearby giving alms and donations to these rebels. The Royal palace has become the Headquarters of the Rebels who are sometimes joined by one Gangaram Thapa who was the caretaker of the western Morang region under the Nepal Kingdom. Now, Gangaram Thapa was a farsighted and ambitious feudal chief who saw in the arrival of the British as an opportunity for expanding his own ambitions. He had good relations with the King of Sikkim who also helped the Sannyasis in organizing themselves. He often visited Baikunthapur palace and confided with Majnu Shah and Birbal who were the main leaders  of the Rebels. The ex ruler of Rangpur also joined them because his territory was also usurped by the British company. Gangaram Thapa dreamt of making the deserted palace once again his capital from where he could carve out an independent kingdom for himself. Of course he had sympathy with the Rebels being a devout  Hindu and he thought both the Mughals and the Firangis as religious aliens.