A day at Sarat Kuthi, Samtabere

I have long harbored the desire of visiting the homes of my favorite authors. To me this is a sort of pilgrimage. To be in the house where those masters lived and to get soaked in those atmospheres is a timeless unique experience.

Till now I have visited mansions of Victor Hugo, Rabindra Nath Tagore, Ernest Hemmingway, Bibhuti Bhushan Bandopadhyay, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Last year I had the opportunity to visit Samtabere, a small quaint village in Howrah - where Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay resided in the last decade of his life.

Although Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay does not need an introduction, but I cannot resist the temptation to introduce him to my readers. Sarat Chandra is a master story teller. His novels and short stories are equally famous among young and grown ups. Many of the novels have been converted to films across different regional languages of India. Different people have their reasons for liking Sarat babu's writing. Sarat Babu lived in the time when caste system was quite predominant amongst the society - but his writings had a humane touch, they are tales of compassion and tales of valor. His canvas lacked any overt agenda, but it had subtle messages.
 Many of  the characters of Sarat Babu have a shade of his personality. Be it Ram or Srikanta or Sabyasachi or Ramesh - the characters  have always raised voice against social oppression, communal conflicts.

Sarat babu was quite sensitive to the struggles and aspiration of women. Although on a first glance the women protagonists look very simple, their lives are tied to daily household chores,  but deep inside they all exude strengths of empathy and courage. 

It was a wet winter morning. As we started our drive, mist engulfed the windscreen. Samtabere is 70 Km South East of Dumdum. Shortly after crossing Bagnan, one of the offshoots from NH 2 goes towards Samtabere. 

I was keen to explore his home. The house built in 1900s has a huge Burmese influence. Sarat babu had spent part of life in Burma ( currently Myanmar).The two storied building has all 4 sides open. 

Manna babu, a veteran ( third generation to serve at Sarat Babu's house) takes care of the house. Although Manna Babu is old, but he was very patient to show and explain the house.  The entrance of the house had encryption from the novel Mahesh. The lines read like this : 

"Allah, punish me as much as you like, but Mahesh died with thirst on his lips. Nobody left the tiniest bit of land for him to feed on. Pray never forgive those their guilt who never let him eat the grass nor drink the water you have given."

Those who have read Mahesh, they know the story still serves a mirror to the society. The love between Gofur and his Mahesh still exists and embarassingly, the hatred between man to man still exists as well.

The two storied house was originally made up of mud. A huge sprawling garden lies all around the house. As the wind caressing the stem,the bamboo shoots was carving out a music. Long back,the river Rupnarayan used to flow next to the house, but now with time, the river has drifted away. A small pond lies in front of the house. Life in Samtabere is still very simple - villagers often come down to wash their dishes or fish in the pond. Manna Babu told us that Kartik and Ganesh, the famous fishes in "Ramer Sumati" used to reside in this pond. Also the Guava tree which was mentioned in Ramer Sumati, lies at the entrance to the house ( a replica at the original position).

On side of the long verandah at the ground floor, lies Sarat babu's writing room. The desk, long arm chair are still there. A small window opens to the garden. I could conjure up a hot summer afternoon and Sarat babu at work on his desk. The living room features some of the items used by the author - his bed, book shelf, medicine cabinet, family deities. The wall clock still works faithfully.

On the back side of the house, there is a granary and a small kitchen. 

Sarat Babu used to be president of Indian National Congress, Howrah district. His house was an important meeting place for the freedom fighters.

As we thanked Manna Babu and went down the red path, I realized how much this trip meant to me. Deep down inside me, there was a sense of happiness and peace. As we passed through the dusty roads and negotiated our way past thundering trucks, the mind kept wandering back. To the world where Sabyasachi, Indranath, Ram reigned. To the house where Subhash Chandra Bose , Chittaranjan Das used to pay visit. Silently I paid my tribute to Sarat Babu.