Utpala Chowdhury (A Tribute)

Utpala Chowdhury - 30 Nov 1941 – 02 Jan 2018 - 

A tribute

She was born in the quaint little town of Tezpur on 30 November 1941. Her parents were Late Betharam Deka and Late Indu Prova Deka. By the time the British left India she lost her father who died young.

She was taken care of by her eldest brother Late Mrigen Deka (A school teacher) and her mother along with her other siblings. This growing up fatherless in an economically tough environment steeled her character into a strong, fearless and above all very sensible lifestyle. She understood and appreciated the value of life and its simple pleasures. She knew how to create happiness from the most mundane things.

She was married to Shri Jatindra Mohan Chowdhury in Feb 1964. My father was from Barpeta. The first child (Myself) was born on Nov 1965 and the second (My brother – Bedadyuti Chowdhury) was born on Nov 1967. 

My father had a transferable job and we stayed in various places of the North East like Shillong, Guwahati, Nowgaon, Dibrugarh, Barpeta, Tezpur etc. As I grew up, she showed me the beauty and cultural trends of every place and the finer nuances of languages as spoken in various places. She had this ability to pick languages very quickly. She could speak and understand Bengali, Bengali as spoken in Barak Valley, Barpetia, Nepali, English, and Hindi, etc.

As we grew up and entered high school my father got his posting in a place named Nowgaon, sometime in 1975. It was in Nowgaon, that she started her second innings in life. She studied and passed B Ed in that place. She studied at that age because as we grew up and stopped being too dependent on her, she felt she needed some intellectual stimulation in her life. This need for intellectual stimulation stayed with her till her last.

As we were again transferred to Guwahati she took up an assignment in a small school named St Stephen’s School which was started by a great educationist named Late Bessie Laise.

She was a school teacher for a long period. The school is now a major school with rank holders in HSLC.

As my father retired from service, she left her school job and decided to stay back in her home because she did not want our father to be lonely.  In this phase I saw in her actions what care, loyalty and love mean.

She became a constant companion of my father helping him in each and every need. She not only took care of his physical needs but also his intellectual needs. When he writes something she will help him by correcting the proofs and manuscripts. She was also adept at finding proper words for him.

She was a voracious reader from childhood and used to follow great writers of Assamese, Bengali, and English literature. She also contributed thought-provoking articles for various important Assamese literary magazines like Prantik, Gariyosi, Amar Asom, etc.

She hand held my first tentative steps into the realms of literature and music. It was she who introduced me to great writers like Pearl S Buck, John Steinbeck, Harper Lee, etc. She was a great fan of Bengali writers like Sarat Chandra, Ashapurna Devi, Shankar, etc. Among Assamese writers and poets, she was a fan of Jatin Duarah and used to quote his verses in many stages of our life. Happiness or sadness – she had an appropriate verse for every occasion.

Similarly, with music – she guided on how to recognize good music from bad. She made me understand the finer nuances of Indian Classical Music. She used to note down the lyrics of Late Bhupen Hazarika’s songs and explain the significance of each and every word.

She always used to tell us – popularity is never an indication of quality in the domain of fine arts. As chartbusters flood social media, I remember her sensible words and search for music that is heavenly and inspiring.

She was the main junction point for us and kept in touch with our extended family of cousins and relations. She would be in contact with all and share the news when a cousin got married or became a mother or grandmother, or somebody went abroad for higher studies, etc.

My mother departed, as is the norm and God’s will but she left a mark on many of us, which we will strive to keep alive.

She used to tell us, I do not pray God for a long life, but a fruitful functioning life where I am of some value for all, till my last breath. She achieved her wish, fully and completely. 

She left her husband, two sons and two daughters-in-law and four grandchildren.

Two incidents I would like to share here.

As we brought her home for the final journey a young man participated a lot and accompanied us to the cremation grounds. No one – neither my brother nor I could recognize him. I came to know later, he was a migrant worker who worked in a small shop near our house. My mother used to go there to buy some minor provisions. After buying she would ask him to carry the things and guide her home. This simple gesture for a long time created a bond between them and he cried a lot when he lost his “Aita” (Grandmother).

The newspaper vendor came with some Assamese Magazines and was crestfallen to hear about her demise. He said she used to ask him about any new literary magazine or publications.

Many a time he was scolded when he failed to deliver a magazine on time. This need for intellectual stimulation was something inherent to her. She used to tell me a thought full write up in a newspaper is like a cup of coffee.

A few weeks before her departure I showed her my Kindle and she was very interested. I planned to buy one for her but destiny had other plans.