An extraordinary girl

The Burden of Property

I have told you that I had become the owner of a huge property left to me by my grandfather, Surendranath Banerjee. To a young woman who had no experience of life or of business matters and no one to guide her, property was a heavy burden.

We had a large house at Barrackpore situated on the banks of the Ganges. It had a big lawn, a garden and trees in the backyard. In all respects it was an enviable property. Since we were just a few family members, we had no need for such a huge building. It was an encumbrance. So I decided to sell it off. I went to see the then Chief Minister of Bengal and enquired if the Government would buy and preserve it as a memorial in honour of my grandfather who was a great patriot and had won the title "Uncrowned King of Bengal". The Chief Minister was a man well-known all over India. He asked me the price of the building. I said, "One and a half lakhs." "What?" he shouted at me, "your tenant is now paying only Rs. 90 per month and you demand such a huge sum for selling it! It's impossible! " He spoke very rudely and dismissed me off-hand.

I then advertised in a newspaper and in reply a Marwari businessman turned up to negotiate. The news spread everywhere. The editor of a well-known Bengali paper came to see me. "Is it true that you are selling your grandfather's house to a Marwari?" he asked. It was my turn now to be annoyed. I answered, "Why shouldn't I? I offered it to your Chief Minister and he turned me out charging me with excessive greed for gold. And now you are accusing me of having no patriotic feeling!" The editor departed.

As the negotiations proceeded with the prospective buyer, I had a dream. I saw my grandfather and he told me, "You're selling this house to a Marwari?"

"What else can I do? Everything is settled," I answered. "No, you can't do that," he said emphatically. "In tomorrow's paper you will read about the issue." And what did I

read? The editor of the paper had taken the Chief Minister severely to task for allowing the great Surendranath Banerjee's house to pass into a non-Bengali's possession. It had an instantaneous effect. The Chief Minister wrote to me that the Government would accept my earlier offer and buy the house. I kept quiet and gave no answer. Finally, the Government bought it.

But later on they charged me what is called Capital Gains Tax to the tune of about Rs. 17,000 since the property, they claimed, had not been worth the high price it had fetched. I refused to pay and filed a suit, but lost. When I still did not pay the sum demanded, a bailiff was sent to confiscate my furniture. I sent him off with Rs. 50 as pocket money. I appealed now to the High Court. My pleader suggested, "The judge is from the North and is said to be a very strict man. All the same, offer him discretely a substancial bribe." I refused. I approached my son for help, "What shall I do now?" He said roughly, "Why do you annoy me? What can I do? You say you have faith in God. Why don't you tell Him?" I was angry and retorted, "Do you think it is so easy? Why don't you try it for once?" He rebuffed me with, "I don't boast of sharing such a faith!"

Well, my eyes were opened. I prayed to my Lord. I later learned that I had won the case. The judge took no time in giving the judgment in my favour. "Lord, you have taught me a lesson," I gratefully acknowledged.

We used to own two old houses, but when the refugees from East Bengal came, they occupied them. We had no way of driving them out, and neither the police nor the Government would offer us any assistance. I was in a quandary, but fortunately there was a military cantonment nearby and we were on good terms with one of the officers, who had wanted to marry one of my cousins but had been refused. He was a non-Bengali and a very nice person indeed, so I told him about my predicament.

He advised me to submit an application to the Government stating that the houses had become so old that they needed urgent repair. "Start right away with the repair work and break down the roof," he said, "I shall be present during the demolition."

Because of this stratagem, the refugees had to leave one house immediately, but they refused to relinquish the other, saying their womenfolk were there and that men should not enter the place. I went in myself declaring that being a woman I could. Inside, I discovered that a number of these women were sitting quite naked. They were low-caste people and thought they had struck upon a fine trick to keep possession of the house. But as soon as I saw to it that the repair work began, they had no option but to leave. Of course, I got the courage to follow this course of action because of my military friend's support.

Now the refugees had their chance, and started a scandal-mongering campaign linking me to the young officer. When the rumour reached the ears of his superiors in the cantonment, they quickly transferred him to another station.

Soon another difficulty arose regarding the payment of taxes which came under the jurisdiction of the military. I immediately thought of approaching the commanding officer who had transferred my friend. But this was no easy matter, because his office was in Fort William where no one could enter without a pass. When I asked my son's advice about what to do, he simply turned away saying, "I know nothing about your affairs."

"In that case I'll go without a pass," I retorted.

"Don't do that, Ma. You're asking for trouble," he warned.

Without a backward glance, I brought out my car and started straight for the Fort, thinking all the while of my Lord. As soon as I arrived at the gate of the Fort, the guards blocked my path with their rifles and demanded to see my pass. "I have no pass," I said haughtily. I forced my way through and had advanced a short distance when I heard a thunderous shout, "Halt!"

I turned around and saw an officer aiming his revolver at me. I stopped. "Are you a Bengali?" he asked. I answered in the affirmative.

"How have you dared to enter here? Where is your pass?" he demanded. I told him I had no pass but that I urgently wanted to see Major Datta.

"Do you know him?" he asked after a moment's thought. "If you don't he won't see you."

"I must see him," I insisted. "I am in great trouble." "How long will you take?" he said more gently.

"About five minutes," I replied.

"Well, then, his office is over there straight ahead."

Thanking him, I mounted the stairs and knocked at the office door. "Come in," Major Datta called. I walked in and the Major started with surprise. "Who are you?" he exclaimed gaping at me. "How did you get in here? Where is your pass?"

Once again I declared that I had no pass but that I had dared to come because I was in great difficulty. He asked me to sit down.

"Please tell me your story," he said politely. I recounted how I owned property near the cantonment and the cantonment people were harassing me. "I have come to you because you are the senior officer," I concluded.

"I am not the right one. The Executive Officer could look after your problem."

I replied that I could not trust him.

"Very well," the Major told me. "I will look into the matter. Please come tomorrow. I am giving you a pass so that you will have no trouble getting admitted."

I thanked him and came away in a triumphant mood. When I told my son what had happened he could scarcely believe his ears. I know people might laugh at me or consider my stories outlandish, but when I call my Lord, something comes down into me — call it force or strength —and I can perform exceptional acts without any thought for the consequences. In addition, by God's grace, I had a very striking face in those days.

Next day I arrived at the Major's office on time. He told me he had been expecting me. "Come with me," he said. "We must go to the Head Office."

We had walked down to the car when Datta asked me where my driver was. I said I didn't have one and got into the driver's seat. He was about to get into the back, but I motioned him to sit beside me. As we drove through the Fort everyone stared at us wide-eyed with surprise and curiosity. At the Head Office, I waited while the Major went round to the various departments in the course of making enquiries.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long," he told me upon returning. "But you will be glad to hear that the work is done. You can go home in peace." With these few words he left me.

The next morning I went to him again to offer him my thanks. After a while, I said to him, "Mr. Datta, may I ask you a question? Please tell me why you have gone out of your way to help a person whom you did not know and whom most likely you would never see again?"

The poor man was not prepared for such a question and could not find anything to say. I continued, "And yet, when you received a false report about your subordinate officer, you transferred him without troubling to verify the truth of the scandalous allegation against him. How much I myself had to suffer on this account! Still, if I had been your superior officer, perhaps I would have done the same thing. Why do people behave like this?"

Again he did not reply. Then I added, "You see, man is a most helpless creature. Should we not help him in his trials and ordeals as far as we can? Is the law everything? This is my question — please don't be offended."