Disclaimer

None of the maps presented in this work are prepared following the rules of geography, except for the ones for which proper sources have been declared. Images that have been termed as maps in this work are only for illustration purpose.

 

Chapter 1 – Introduction

Preface

 

A few experts have opined that in the olden times, the local kings used to create gigantic levees (‘Al’ in Bengali) on the generally watery landscape in the eastern part of the Bengal Basin, giving rise to the name Bangal or Bangala. Someone else has explained that the Portuguese and English languages have influenced the coining of the word Bangala from the already existing word Bango. In another opinion, the name was derived from the name of a group called Bong or Bāng in South India. The word 'Bonga', an Austronesian word thought to be used by the oldest inhabitants of the region, has also been forwarded as the basis for the naming of a large part of the Bengal Basin as Bongal, Bangal, or Bangla within the political boundaries of the Indian state of West Bengal and Bangladesh by many. Some prominent linguists believe that a word 'Bango' once was used to indicate cotton within the Bengal Basin, and the region was named Bango because of its ancient connection with the cultivation of that item.

 

The propagators of each of those views are revered as renowned scholars in their respective fields. None of those explanations can in any way be set aside as implausible. But it is undeniable that all those explanations give rise to some other fundamental questions. Such questions have annoyed Naru like many other Bengalis from his school days (Origin of Bangla First Part A Mythical Voyage).           

 

The natural setup of the eastern fringes of the Chota Nagpur Plateau makes it the best candidate to be considered as the oldest inhabited area within the Bengal Basin. Experts in anthropology and archaeology have provided many clues in favour of that notion. Unlike many other places (including some areas within India) on earth, where the early inhabitants have vanished without any trace, human settlements in the Chota Nagpur Plateau can be traced back to that time limit, to which scientists are able to look back.

 

Geologists as well as the historians have firmly concluded that 5-7 thousand years ago, the main Ganges Basin started to become inhabitable for human beings. The Bengal Basin followed suit around 2 thousand years later, i.e., 3–5 thousand years ago.

 

Obviously, the first contenders for naming the Bengal Basin were the people who lived on the Chota Nagpur Plateau or some areas adjacent to it. There is probably no evidence that the Adivasis (natives) left any area around their settlements unnamed.They had their own names for all the places where they trudged.

 

A question arises in mind, that if the Adivasis were there since time immemorial, then why did the people of the northeastern part of the Bengal Basin get the chance to set the identity of the entire basin through one of their activities? There were much more important groups, kingdoms, etc., in other parts of that basin who could easily stamp their own name on that region. The answer, in one word, is ‘impossible’. Such an explanation is beyond logic and common sense. An assumption that no member of the Adivasi clan was able to cross the river Ganges and reach its eastern part would be untenable. Tangible evidence vouches for otherwise.

 

There hardly should be any doubt that the Europeans had a great impact on that land during the past few centuries. It seems quite evident that the Europeans had a tough time coming to terms with the tongue twisters of the Sanskrit language related pronunciations. The word ‘Tripura’ became 'Tippera' in their vocabulary. They named a relatively mature flat land situated below the hilly region of Tripura hills as Tippera Surface. Like many other things, the local people were hardly influenced by and accepted such twisted versions of Indian words. Tripura remained unchanged for the local populace. Innumerable examples of such cases may be put forward. A city built exclusively by the British was named Calcutta, but for the local population it always remained Kolkata, even after the passage of many centuries of colonial rule.          

 

A land that had remained inhabited continuously since time immemorial had little chance to be given an identity by people who appeared on that land only a few centuries ago. It may be argued that the old identity has gotten lost. But many contrary examples exist. No other common name for that whole basin area was ever known to exist. The earlier names within that basin that had been changed by the newer people remained accessible to modern man. The name Sylhet is almost universally used, but that could not erase the existence of its earlier name, ‘Srihatta’ completely. Chittagong could not swallow ‘Chattogram’ entirely. Such historical identities continue to remain available in one way or the other. As far as the entire Bengal Basin is concerned, except for Bango, there is no other name in existence to refer to that geography as a unit.       

 

For the common dwellers of that basin, the entire basin always had two alternative names: Bango and Bangla. However, Bangla is a derived word from Bango ('Origin of Bangla First Part A Mythical Voyage'). Those words register their existence deep in antiquity. Many experts have indicated that Bango was in existence when Sanskrit was introduced to that land. Available evidence of human settlements in that land predates the estimated creation period of the oldest-known Sanskrit texts by ages. In comparison to the existence of human beings on the Chota Nagpur Plateau, the emergence of the Gangetic Plain in the Bengal Basin is quite a recent phenomenon.

 

The word Sanskrit is a simpler version of the original word Saṃskṛta (‘संस्कृत’). The Digital South Asia Library hosted at the University of Chicago has provided that diacritical-marks-laden spelling on their website. The construction of that word demonstrates the usual Sanskrit way of combining a root word with another one (s) for construction of a final word.  In that case, the focus is on the verb ‘कृ’ (‘kri’), which means preparation etc., and the whole word Saṃskṛta (संस्कृत) is said to mean ‘polished expression.’” 

 

“The original word ‘Sam’ (may be pronounced as Sawm) as present in Saṃskṛta, has another meaning where the letter ‘m’ has little deeper pronunciation as compared to the regular ‘m’ in the English alphabet. That word ‘Sam’ is used as an adjective, and it means ‘likewise’ and ‘aggregate’, depending on its use. In that connotation also, the word Sanskrit denotes the aggregation of multiple in one. The pre-existence of the earlier inhabitants, before the advent of the creators of Sanskrit, was again indicated through that word.”

 

In short, Sanskrit provided the grammatical framework to construct a language from innumerable dialects that were prevalent in India prior to its advent.

 

With this context in mind, it appears an untenable logic that levees built by recent kings (kingdom is a relatively new concept in Bengal) could provide identity to the entire region.

 

Low-lying land is not a scarcity in Bengal Basin even today. Are there any gigantic levees present on such land today? Even in the tidal swamps, where huge commercial scale land-related activities are carried out, one can hardly find any gigantic levee. Such structures were and still are used for transportation purposes. But that is the case throughout the world. In the much higher western margin of the Basin (Naru’s birthplace), the administration creates major new roads much higher than the surrounding land. The administration generally keeps in mind the highest flood levels in recorded history. Such practise cannot be referred to as the reason for the naming of a huge geographical area. Moreover, the western neighbour of the Bengal Basin, the Central Indian highland area, has much higher levees between the patches of fragmented cultivable land.

 

If a word ‘Bango’ in the Austronesian vocabulary is referred to as the source of the naming of that land, then a question arises as to why they kept that word reserved, particularly to be applied to that region only. They travelled a very long way to reach that basin, ultimately. On their way to that basin, they created much larger settlements. Any of those settlements could have been named after that sacred word of their culture. The only explanation for such an occurrence is "by chance". ‘By chance’ cannot be the basis of a logical construct. That approach is contrary to the proof-based scientific approach.

 

An annoyance often appears in Naru’s world to register its presence. Somehow, it had gotten a whiff that Naru was trying to write his thoughts on different aspects of the land known as Bangla. Giggling as always, it revealed that the name of Bangla had been derived from the name of a son of Vali (elder brother of Sugrib, in Ramayan). ‘Bango’ was the name of one of the sons of Vali, and therefrom, the name of Bengal, i.e., Bango, has originated ('Origin of Bangla Third Part Sundarban' ). That argument also becomes very weak in the light of the previous discussion.

 

Having received some light from the modern education system, Naru understood that a few words that had occurred in someone’s mind would not be sufficient to offer an acceptable explanation for any of the unsolved mysteries faced by human beings. Again, if concentrated on any one of the individual aspects out of the myriad available, then the other innumerable alternatives might raise their heads for consideration. Any such endeavour shall be proven to be a hypothesis and not an explanation. One thing has been found common in all the present hypotheses and that is the commonality of a particular geographical area within the Bengal Basin, which is referred to as the home of the Banġals. Banġal is a word that certainly has been derived from Bango.      

 

All the present hypotheses stumble at a particular juncture of the logical construct. Naru also faced difficulty in digesting the prevailing explanations in his school days. 

 

He embarked on a voyage of searching every relevant area of study to find support for what had occurred in his mind (he could never realize how). The main focus ultimately narrowed down to the areas covered by the subjects like geology, tangible-evidence-based history, language, archaeology, and geography.

 

 

 

A land of imagination

 

Unlike the neighbours in the residential complex of the workplace of Naru’s father, on the eastern fringes of Rarh Bengal, Naru’s family did not have any permanent residential address. Naru’s father did inherit a patch of land, which was some 80 kilometres away from his work place. Many of their relatives lived there; probably because they followed one of the clan leaders when they took refuge in that part of India as a result of the partition of that country. That place was a bit backward in the process of urbanization. The areas just outside the railway station showed some features of urban development. But that influence was restricted only to a radius of around 50 meters. Naru’s father barely spent a decade in that place before he embarked on his journey of survival. At that time, he was at the end of his teens. There were neither the resources, the time, nor the presence of an able-bodied whole new generation, making the construction of a new home on that new land impossible.A rudimentary structure on that land, which provided shelter to the family, had gone to the share of his elder brother, who had also embarked on his own journey to another part of the country. The residential flat that Naru’s father got at his workplace became the universe for Naru and the other members of their extended family.

 

Naru had found a window to a fairyland, which he was taught was India by his grandmother. Innumerable stories that he learnt from her gave him an impression of the ancient life in that land. He developed the conviction that human life had advanced to a higher level on that land in the past, which is no longer present.She was the window to another world, which for Naru was a land of imagination.

 

As far as Naru can recollect, his land of imagination was somewhere in the eastern direction of their residence in the 'Rarh Bengal'. A big pond was there; covering the whole north bank of that pond, a house was there, built mainly with wood and corrugated sheets. Naru’s grandfather, who was a doctor, had a dispensary in that complex. In the cramped setup of the tiny residential flat, Naru was always amazed by the words of the grandmother that in that dispensary, in a single room, 48 wooden almirahs (cupboards) were there. There was a tank in the yard where different types of catfish used to be reared, not for the members of the family, but for the patients who did not have the means to afford sufficient food during illness. In Bengal, some species of catfish are particularly considered good for sick people. A permanent stage was there where the male members of the extended family used to perform once or twice a year. They used to rehearse for months in preparation. In the very last leg of their existence in that place, one printing press was taken from Calcutta for the purpose of printing some instruction sheets for some dietary supplements developed by his grandfather. Little Naru used to be amazed by the efforts involved. From the descriptions, he could easily imagine that the village was as remote as the cave of the phantom of the comic series. No definite road was there to reach that village. For the greater part of the year, boats were the only means of transportation. During the monsoon (which was a much-extended affair at that time), boats needed to be used to move from one unit of the house to the other. Naru’s great grandfather, who used to reside in another house nearby, had a horse of Arabian origin. That horse used to be tied to a tree, and the rider needed to climb that tree to be seated on that horse. For a few months of the year, that horse was used as an effective means of transport. A bicycle was purchased around the time of the Second World War, when a public road was created. At that time, bicycles were not produced in India.                            

  

One of the most romantic descriptions of Naru’s life came from his paternal uncle, who was considerably older than his father. That land of imagination, as described by the grandmother, had a lean stream flowing beside it. That river, like any other in that land, was linked to the Brahmaputra (Jamuna in local parlance).The private boats of well-to-do families used to ply that channel. On some occasions, the travellers used to play manual record players during their journey. Naru’s uncle used to run along the bank of the river to keep in touch with the faint music. Records (music discs) were very rare. Naru has seen his uncle singing for hours until the age of around 75 years plus.

 

Just before the advent of the rainy season, when the sky was yet to be overcast with monsoon clouds, the people of that village used to discover that clear water was invading the low-lying lands. The groups of teenagers used to start yelling, "water has come, water has come" A lot of fish would come along with the water. The teenagers had the voluntary task of picking some of those fish and handing them over to their mothers.

 

Is there anywhere else on the planet where such an event could be witnessed?

 

Major cultivation for the year used to start during that time. The only task involved was to scatter the paddy seeds on the fields. Nothing more was there to be performed. The land would go under water for the next few months. Newly germinated rice plants would grow taller and taller with the increasing level of water. The plants would grow 10–12 feet tall at the peak of the rainy season. Inflorescence would come out and the seeds would ripen on those floating plants. That paddy used to be harvested on the floating boats. Rabindranath Tagore immortalised the rice harvesting of the Bengal Basin in his poem ‘Sonar Tori’. From the elders, Naru heard about the name of a rice variety ‘Bauron’. Those people vouched, when they became around 90 years old and tasted many types of rice in present-day India, that the taste of that species of Bauron is unmatched by any other rice.

 

Later, out of curiosity to check the factualness of those descriptions, Naru tried to search for the existence of rice cultivars that had such amazing features related to growth. He found that those were not imaginary stories. Such varieties do exist and may be found even today.

 

At a very tender age, Naru developed the ability to visualise that land of imagination vividly. The sight of a large house on the northern bank of a big pond within the settings of a wide-open space would automatically draw a reaction from Naru—‘Roail’.

 

 

 

Sight of the land of imagination

 

 

Naru was boiling with excitement and was trying hard to keep calm. That was his first trip on a small Dornier airplane. The departure from Kolkata airport provided a new experience. The feeling of ‘G’ while taking off was a new experience for Naru. The destination was Shillong, the capital of Meghalaya state of India. It was the first half of the 2010s decade. Rains had stopped, well almost. Durga Puja festival was around 10 days away. During that period, the full impact of monsoon water can be witnessed in the Bengal Basin. On that occasion, Naru did not get the chance to book his choice seats as his employer provided him with the tickets. It was an official tour. They were a team of two. Probably, some well-wishers showered their blessings on Naru. He was able to watch what he wanted to watch on that flight over Bangladesh. The route travels over the two places of which he had heard since gaining consciousness: Roail (Tangail) and Kayetgram (Mymensingh). Since it was a very small airplane, their group of two was accommodated in a set of two seats on one side (the left side). Naru sat in the window seat, taking advantage of his privilege of seniority. The sky was open. In that phase of the concluding rainy season, visibility was very good and the airplane, for its category specification, was flying just over the thin layer of very low-hanging torn clouds (wherever it was present). Kolkata's congested cityscape passed quickly.The plane was moving almost in a straight line from Kolkata

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Bildmaterialien: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Cover: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Lektorat: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Korrektorat: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Übersetzung: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Satz: Dibyendu Chakraborty
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 20.03.2021
ISBN: 978-3-7487-7769-4

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Dedication Late Hiranmoyee Chakraborty My Grandmother, and guide to Indianness