It is examination season. I am being seen with suspicion and annoyance – I am a teacher, a group that my nephew temporarily dislikes. He sits in front of a laptop for most of the day – all his teachers live there, his classmates, and his video games. We matter little to him – we could be the mosquitoes that disturb him or the ceiling fan that he needs. The room he is in remains curtained through the day and night. His life, like all other children’s, has lost all outside.
Occasionally I ask him about his exams. ‘Why is everyone laughing in the Blake poem? Can humans live on Mars? How were the Himalayas formed?’ I don’t ask him about the answers he’s written. It is not only because he is exhausted from this near-farcical exercise of learning and answering examinations online. I shake my head occasionally. He asks me why. When I manage to pull him out of the room to the balcony, both of us mindful of wearing a mask when standing there, I ask him about the name of the street his house is on. He remembers – he’s heard us say it to the courier and Zomato personnel.
‘Sreema Sarani,’ he says.
‘Who is Sreema, and why is this street named after them?’ I ask.
He doesn’t know.
Not a single book he studies tells him his story – about the town he is in, how it gets its name, why its climate is what it is. He does not know the name of a single historical figure from his town. After much thought, he says ‘Wriddhiman Saha’. Quite clearly, his history textbooks have misled him to equate a ‘famous’ person as a ‘historical figure’.
And so I began preparing a set of questions – they might help us to think and imagine North Bengal differently.
To begin with, just these random questions, answers to which will not be difficult to find on the internet. These questions are not only for ‘tourists’, who come here to ‘enjoy’ the hills and the forests but find little interest in discovering anything else, but also to all of us who live here. We might not know all the answers, but we can start with them. It might be rewarding to know about the histories outside our window and not only about Mumtaz Mahal.
And, if you can, perhaps you’ll learn to sing a song from North Bengal some day?
Illustration by Suvamoy Mitra