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by Jnanabrata Bhattacharyya (Author)
This is not a chronicle of my life. If it is anything definable, it's rememberings of episodes in my life, a sequence of drifts from Sherpur to Kolkata, Delhi to Brussels and then to Carbondale. I suppose there is an underlying theme here, and I think that would be home, loss of home. I have often pontificated to anyone who would listen that human beings are territorial. Like cats, like elephants. Losing a home is akin to losing your mother and being an orphan forever and ever. I often wonder what if we didn't have to leave Sherpur? We would have a home. We would build a larger house with more modern amenities, north of the town, near Basabari, and even farther north, near Shukul Bari. We would spend long holidays, and our retirement lives there. Our friends and relatives would come with us tramping around Sherpur or in the hills up north. What if.
The 1947 Partition dammed up - and killed - the even current of life. Our family was sundered and flung to the four winds, and within a generation, we lost track of our uncles, aunts, and cousins, and then forgot about them.I have no regrets; I have griefs. Often alone in sepia gloamings, I would realize that since Sherpur, I have been in search of home. Author bio: Prof. Dr. Jnanabrata Bhattacharyya taught in the Departments of Community Development and Political Science at Southern Illinois University-Carbondale in the United States. He is an avid vegetable and tropical flower gardener and a gourmet cook. His recipes begin with wine and Puccini. He appreciates good things in life: company, music, food, whiskeys, wines, cheeses, and travel. Editor: Dr. Teesta Ghosh, US.
