Growing up in the Tea Plantations

My journey into this world began on the 2nd of February, 1977. I was born to Ashok and Mallika Sen in Woodlands Nursing home in Kolkata. Dr Tarun ( Scissor) Bannerjee - as he was usually called, showed me the first ray of light..
After that, my parents flew back to Assam, cradling me along, for a life in the tea estates. I was surrounded by many caregivers who were always around in the bungalows we lived in. They were an integral part of my growing up years. Most importantly, I always found myself in my parents' arms . So many mornings were spent basking in the Sun while the Nanny wheeled me around in the pram (called Chakka Gaadi in the estates) within the premises of the large and sprawling lawns. Giggling, playing, being amused at things new, my babyhood kept family and friends enthralled.
My father had very long working hours; he would wake up at 5am, change into his shorts and sneakers, sip a quick cuppa and be out by 6am for his 'KaamJaari' ( rounds of the estate) in a Willy's Jeep. During winters, the Jeep refused to start and  finally would, after several rounds of coughing and choking. There were times when it had to be pushed to and fro by the cook, bearers and gardeners till the engine came alive ! Well, I got used to this as a routine affair. Daddy would be back from his 'KaamJaari' by 9am for breakfast ( Haajri/ Naashta). Some beans, toast and eggs and off again he'd go to work. Back again for lunch and a short rest.Out again at 3pm. So you see, I only saw him in flashes..dashing in and out of the house ! His day's work would end by 6 or 7pm. Yet, there were days when he'd be at the factory almost all night, and do the morning rounds as well. How he managed to endure such a routine, is a question I won't find an answer to. His colleagues pull his leg even today , saying that they had seen him sleep walking !!
 The evenings were spent with their friends either at the Clubs or in the Bungalows. My parents had a lively circle of friends and they loved entertaining their guests. My mother, an accomplished hostess and a singer of some repute, would lay out the best of her linen and crockery when it came to hospitality. I have grown up seeing her as the perfectionist that she was.
 The rooms in the bungalows were named such- Palang kamra/ bedroom , Baba Kamra/ children's room, Faltu Kamra/ guest room, Gusal kamra/ bathroom, Gol Kamra/ Drawing room, Jaali Kamra ( where breakfast was usually served) / Verandah,  Khana kamra/ Dining room and so on. Fresh flower arrangements in all the rooms including the baths were kept on a regular basis. Life in the tea gardens is jokingly called the ' Ghanti culture' because when you need something, all you do is ring the bell for the bearer to arrive. The Bungalow staff included a Bawarchi, Bearers, Paniwala, Jharuwala, Ayahs, Maalis and the Chowkidaar. Contrary to popular belief that the life in the estates is  lonely, I have seen it as a very busy one. The smell of fresh tea, the sounds of the gongs and sirens , the sight of a carpet of green tea bushes all around and pluckers moving through the bushes with their baskets- all this and much more has remained a treasured part of my life .