BOOK REVIEW- TETE-A-TEA by INDI KHANNA

 

READING  THE  TEA  LEAVES.

For most of us tea is the cuppa that wakes us up in the morning, for the cognoscenti it is a career, but for those who are passionate about it, it is a way of life. Indi Khanna, who will be a planter till the day he himself is planted on some hillside, belongs to this last category; combine this with an amazing zest for life, the irreverence of his Punjabi blood, the memory of a pachyderm, the story telling skills of a born raconteur, and what you get is this exhilarating book. This is not a book that tells you how to grow tea, or the difference between a first flush and a poker flush. What it does tell you, however, in 39 delightful chapters and the frequent four letter word, is about the hard working, hard playing life of a tea planter in India, starting with the "muster" before sun break and ending with that last drink at the planters' club (or in a swamp as the chapter A Slight Mishap honestly reveals!) post midnight.

Tea as a commercial crop was introduced in the Assam valley by the British in the 1830s and had expanded to the Nilgiris in the South by the 1850s. It is today one of India's biggest industries: the country is the world's second largest producer, churning out 1.38 billion kgs every year from 619000 hectares of plantations, valued at US$ 12 billion. But it is more than just an industry or product. Tea is the stuff of legends, it has created an entire sub-culture and way of life, and those who work on its plantations are a breed apart, not unlike the pioneer homesteaders of the American Wild West! The USP of this book is that it introduces us to this genre of homo sapiens as few others do.

Tea planters, of necessity, had to be self sufficient till very recently, in the era before four-lane highways, televisions, cell phones, OLEX or Blinkit, internet, FAX or mobile banking, which is the period the author recounts in this book. They had to be innovative, creative, adventurous, prepared for surprises, and the "jugad" was part of their SOP. The forty odd stories in this book explain this in greater and side-splitting detail. A few need to be mentioned to give the reader a flavour of what Indi Khanna has cooked up!

Nothing Was Ever Im-'piss'-able informs us that an important part of an Asstt. Manager's job was to faithfully record (in a rain measure) every morning the precipitation in the past 24 hours since it had a bearing on productivity and future planning. Indi was perplexed by the fact that, of his 13 fields, one consistently recorded much higher rainfall than the other 12. Looking at it from every angle failed to deliver any reason or answer for this mystery. So he decided to pitch his tent one night next to the rain gauge to witness for himself any unusual phenomenon that could explain this. He was roused from his sleep well past midnight by lusty singing and swearing sounds; he saw the night watchman, thoroughly sozzled, totter and weave his way to the rain gauge and empty his full bladder (with remarkable accuracy) into the said receptacle, and wander off! He apparently did this every night, being a man of regular habits. Indie had solved the mystery, though he does not tell us what exact explanation he gave his boss.

My favourite story in the book has the same thread- or is it 'stream'-of piss running through it. Appropriately titled Pissing Golf, it details how native jugad modified the original game of golf invented in St. Andrews. In the planters' club, one didn't need to be good at golf to win a tournament, one needed to have a strong bladder and do the Kegel's exercise regularly. The rules of the tournament demanded that one have a very large, Patiala size drink (Bloody Mary or beer) before teeing off at each of  6 of the 9 holes (the others being 'dry' holes). No great shakes, you say? But wait for Rule 2: no one was allowed, on pain of penalties, to relieve himself behind a bush or elsewhere till he had holed out at the 9th hole! Try that, Tiger Woods! One presumes that those with prostate problems were not encouraged to take part in the tournament.

The other stories are equally hilarious and give us an honest glimpse of the lives of the planters, whether in Assam or the Nilgiris, places where the author served. They include accosting elephants and wild boars, catching trout in the mountain streams (always ensuring that the fish caught were never bigger than the boss's catch!), floating down the mighty Brahmaputra for days on an improvised "home" built on eight drums lashed together, bringing up kids with the sole assistance of a volume of Benjamin Spock, repaying Divali card debts, not in cash, but in bovine currency, living in a haunted 'chang' house (one on stilts) where the thunder-box was want to collapse if the incumbent didn't watch his weight!

Each story is a delightful gem, related with self deprecating humour- Indi Khanna churns them out, not with his tongue- in- cheek, but with the said appendage firmly stuck out, challenging you to protest or do better. Do not, however, presume that it was all fun and games for the planters and their families. Beneath the fun is the reality of an intrepid breed of men and women, fending for themselves in remote regions without the amenities we take for granted in today's urban communities. It was a hard life- living in isolated locations, cut off from the larger family and friends for eleven months in a year, having to send their children to hostels at the age of five or six, working round the clock 24X7, especially during the plucking and factory processing seasons, finding their own quick-fixes when things went wrong or broke, dealing with undisciplined and sometimes violent labour, a medical officer substituting for a vet and vice versa! But they took all this in their stride, supported by a close circle of friends and colleagues, an undaunted pioneering spirit, and, of course, that vital Planters' Club. In a way, they have created history. This book is a light-hearted record of how this history was made. Which is why it is a must-read for all those who partake of the cup that cheers, but does not inebriate. And don't take that last bit too literally, says Indi Khanna.