My latest trip was to a place I had only seen advertised. It is a large farmhouse cum homestay facility close to Labhpur in Birbhum, little more than a two-hour drive. It is called Manusher Ghorbari (after the novel by Atin Bandyopadhyay), owned and run by Sri Aniket Chattopadhyay, filmmaker, news editor of Kolkata TV and YouTuber (his popular channel is named Banglabazar) along with his wife Sahana and a team of dedicated young locals eager to please. It was a most pleasant two-night stay.
As all readers of my little travelogues know, I love wandering, but long vacations to faraway places take a heavy toll on the pocket, as well on my time and dwindling reserves of energy, so I can do them only twice a year, or maybe three at most. And yet I find it painful to stay home for too long at a stretch. So I keep searching for pretty, quiet and not-yet-so-hot idylls nearby. A decade ago you found them only in the hills; now, homestays are coming up all over south Bengal. Just the right sort of thing for people who want short breathers amidst silence, pure air, vast open spaces and greenery.
We took one mud house and one regular room, because I wanted to get a taste of both. Only young Aveek the soon to be doctor accompanied us; everyone else in my gang of favourites being currently very busy. Arriving at the property just after 11 a.m., we had a sumptuous Bengali lunch on traditional kansa (bell metal) utensils, mostly made out of things grown on site. Then, the huge lakeside garden beckoning, we dozed for a while in the mellow sunshine before turning in for a late siesta. The evening passed in leisurely fashion, with hearty adda and a bit of music, followed by a heavy dinner: if the hosts can be faulted on anything at all, it is that they insist we gorge ourselves (or maybe that is what the typical guest expects). But as they promised, the water drawn from an underground aquifer is really so good (no longer a common thing anywhere in India) that we were hungry for breakfast.
On Tuesday morning we got off to a somewhat early start, visiting, in turn, the ancestral house of, and the museum dedicated to Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay, the greatest writer (besides artist, social worker, philanthrope and sometime MLC) that Birbhum has produced, at least since Chandidas. Then off to the sickle-shaped bend in the river Kopai just before it meets the Bakreshwar, made famous by the novel Hansulibanker Upokotha. That was a bit of a let down, really, but the locals said that plans are afoot to make the surroundings more well-tended and scenic. Finally, a visit to the Neel Kuthi, basically some forlorn brick ruins standing derelict amidst dense jungle: it was the jungle which enchanted me, with Ray's music playing inside my mind: e je bonyo, e oronyo... I shall never grow tired of forests, rivers and mountains. Back for bath and lunch, which was good again, though pulao is not my favourite rice dish, and the previous day's delicious routine was happily repeated until dinner. A good night's sleep, waking up lateish, a filling breakfast of hot paranthas, fried aubergine (oh come on, begoon bhaja) and nolen gurer rosogolla, and we drove off to reach Durgapur just after twelve. As always, the two days, like all joyous times, had passed in a flash. I think everybody, ma included, enjoyed it thoroughly.
If you ask for the USP of this homestay/resort, my answer will be that though both Mr. and Mrs. Chatterjee are busy working people, and we stayed with them during working days, they not only made it a point to give us company during every meal (it would have started becoming embarrassing if I had stayed for another day) but we quickly developed enough rapport to engage in serious conversation covering a wide range of subjects - which is saying a lot, given that I am at heart a very private person who avoids talk with strangers unless invited. I was also glad to know that it is pet friendly, and that they do not welcome visitors who want to play earsplitting music on 'DJ boxes'. I hope this kind of publicity won't make it too crowded and raucous for peaceloving folks like me. Visit on weekdays: you are almost sure to get a booking even if you call just two days in advance, unless it is holiday time. You can contact Mr. Chatterjee directly. His phone number is 94349 48504.
I am almost done travelling this season: one more trip perhaps, and I shall sit back and brace myself for summer.
For some photos, click here.
3 comments:
A most wonderful piece of wandering, this — reassuringly unhurried, properly observant, and refreshingly free of the breathless “must-see” hysteria that now passes for travel writing. One almost suspects you travelled in order to notice, rather than to return with proof.
I was particularly relieved to see Birbhum allowed to remain Birbhum, instead of being aggressively “experienced”. The aside on overeating, the quiet irritation with pulao, and the gentle anxiety about publicity ruining peace are all marks of a seasoned traveller who knows exactly what he wants — and, more importantly, what he does not.
Looking forward to the photographs, though I suspect the best parts will already have been conveyed between the lines.
Dear Sir,
I have noticed that these small and cozy weekend getaway places have become quite popular and easy to come by these days. While some do not live up to the hype, others serve their purpose very well. I am happy to know that you could visit all the places you mentioned and enjoyed the food there. The Indian lunch is also well suited for the afternoon “bhaat-ghoom” ritual, which many in my family consider sacred. I feel that winter siestas are far better than summer afternoon naps. One does not have to worry about stepping out from the comfort of an air-conditioned room into what feels like a wall of heat.
I am glad to know that the owners of the property have a strict rule to keep the ruffians out. Most people do not value silence in India. I was quite relieved when the senior citizen laughter and yoga club was shifted from right under my window to another location. I do not fancy being woken up by loud “aaaaaahhh” and “hahahaha” sounds. I prefer early morning existential dread, while sitting on the edge of my bed in complete silence, over a group of elderly men clearing what feels like decades-old phlegm from their throats and lungs. Maybe the last time they did that, phones were connected to a wire, TV was fat, and people were slim
I was reading something recently which mentioned that 2 to 4 days is the golden vacation duration. It is light on the pocket and retains the charm of a foreign place before it becomes overwhelming or irksome. For someone like me, who gets bored easily, this does seem true. I cannot last more than 3 to 4 days in most unfamiliar places. If I do, those who are with me have to bear the brunt of it.
I hope you get the chance to squeeze in one more vacation before the temperature soars. While it will certainly be enjoyable for you, and a welcome departure from your teaching responsibilities, your readers will also be able to enjoy another blog about your travels. It is a win-win situation and, in the words that famously come out of the pouted lips of the latest honorary Nobel Laureate, “I like to win yuuugely. Nobody wins like me.”
On that note, I end my comment and look forward to your next post.
Best regards,
Aditya Mishra
Dear Suvroda - I am so glad to hear about this trip of yours. I hope someday I find time to explore these corners when I visit India. Till that time, you are my window and I am grateful for that.
Regards
Tanmoy
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