Halum Jhulum dui bhai (Halum and Jhulum are two brothers)
Rastay pailo mora gai ( They found a dead cow on the road)
Halum bole loiya jai (Halum says ‘let’s take it home’)
Jhulum bole khaiya loi (Jhulum Says ‘let’s eat it’)
This small rhyme is part of family legend. I never met either Halum or Jhulum, however, I grew up listening to their stories. Halum and Jhulum were my paternal grandmother’s cousins. They lived in erstwhile East Pakistan. These two brothers were stinking rich but misers. The folklores revolved around their miserly nature.
One day they came to meet my grandma in a hand-pulled rickshaw. Halum paid the fare but the poor rickshaw puller did not have the change to return. In those days, the change was only of 1 paisa. The rickshaw-puller apologetically said that he didn’t have the requisite change. But Halum and Jhulum were not ready to let him go away with their 1 paisa. So they asked the poor man what else he had that could compensate for the 1 paisa. The man said he had nothing else. Halum then started searching the poor man’s pocket and found few bidis (indigenous cigarettes). He took it from the man and said we are keeping these bidis in exchange for 1 paisa. The bidi would have cost around 1 paisa or so. Even though both Halum and Jhulum were non-smokers yet they took those bidis from the man. The poor man kept staring helplessly at the two stinky rich men who had loads of money yet couldn’t let go off mere 1paisa.
When war broke out in East Pakistan, everyone asked Halum and Jhulum to shift to Kolkata where the rest of the extended family had already shifted. However, they were willing to die but not part with their properties. Halum was unmarried and Julum was a widower who had a married daughter living in Kolkata. Jhulum’s daughter Manju Pishi sent numerous letters to her father begging him to shift to Kolkata but he was adamant.
Somewhere around 1971, their palatial house was burgled by the miscreants. Jhulum was severely injured in that attack. The hooligans took away their cash and jewelry. Halum couldn’t accept the loss of wealth and his brother’s injury. He died of heart attack within a week of that attack. Jhulum died within few months due to his head injury and trauma.
By the time Jhulum died there was not a single Hindu family left in the neighbourhood. All had shifted to India or elsewhere. There was not a single soul in the village to cremate him following Hindu rituals. His neighbours buried him following Islamic rituals.
In 1972, my father was posted in the Indian Embassy in Dhaka. Before my Dad left for Dhaka, Jhulum’s daughter Manju Pishi came to meet him. She requested that on his visit he should visit the grave of Jhulum Dadu.
On one weekend, my dad went to the village where Jhulum was buried. In Dhaka my dad had met a Hindu Brahmin Gentleman who he had befriended. My dad took him along. The village was my dad’s ancestral village also, even though he had never visited before but had heard lots of stories from his parents and extended family. When he reached the village he introduced himself and thankfully people recognized his family. They took him to Jhulum’s grave. But my dad’s friend couldn’t conduct any Hindu ritual there, as East Pakistan was in an extremely tensed situation then with Pakistani Khan Sena’s not sparing even Bengali Muslims. Secretly the Brhamin gentleman chanted verses from the Gita. My dad picked up soil from his grave. When he came back to Kolkata he gave Manju Pishi that soil. She, later on, performed Shraddha (Hindu memorial mass) ceremony keeping that soil on the altar.
Image: Pixabay
Fascinating story filled with sorrow and family lore. Thanks for sharing 😊
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I am glad you liked my family story. Thanks for visiting.
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Such a poignant story balaka of how life is all about giving. Taking anything with us on death is not an option. So why accumulate?
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Exactly, we keep hoarding things all through our lives but actually carry nothing along. Thanks Meena for reading.
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Yes, khali haath aaye the khali haath jayenge, bas pyaar ke do meethe bol reh jaayenge. (I think I am quoting some song, but appropriate here! :))
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Bilkul appropriate 😛
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I thought these names were fictional- loved to know that they werent! That ditty in the beginning was such an apt start to this tale; you related their characteristics so well through it! I feel for the rickshaw wallah and wonder how many bidis they collected in their lifetime 😉
H is for Heidi #atozchallenge
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This ditty is almost like a nursery rhyme in our family. These men died long before I was born but I grew up listening to this song. They are part of family folklore. Thanks Shalz for this nice comment
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You made me remember one story I heard. Post partition Bangladesh politicians were targeting wealthy Hindu families, as expected. Govt officers were luckier lot who were given option to change job under India govt and flee without a chance of being killed on their way. All my maternal family fled leaving all materiel possessions behind that way. Only one of my maternal great-grandfather’s cousins, a postal department employee, refused to leave own home. By 1950, a case of theft (Single Brahmin having large house in an Islamic country has to be a thief, of course :). was registered against him. Police picked him up and he committed suicide in jail. Anyway, Post 71 Bangladesh admin found him not-guilty after an investigation.
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Oh my god!! this is such a chilling story. It gave me goosebumps. Thanks for sharing it here. We should all write about those dark days. nice connecting with you.
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We spend all our life chasing wealth, power, status but when we leave, we leave empty handed. This story is a reminder of this harsh truth of life. Loved the narrative Balaka!
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Thanks Aks
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Amusing tale, Balaka! i have always wondered why people with loads of money find it so difficult to part with even a minuscule amount!
There is indeed a lot to learn for us from them. 🙂
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People who have a lot are often scared the most of losing them. Thanks dear for reading and commenting.
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Wealth is indeed enticing. Sometimes it is so enticing that people are willing to risk losing their lives for it. A very nice story indeed.
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Yes, we often give our lives or take other people’s lives for wealth. Thanks for visiting and commenting.
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Touching story but very heavy to take in.. I remember this verse.. What did we bring in that we are going to take tomorrow with us.. Beautifully penned balaka
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I agree it is heavy to take in. Thanks for this lovely comment Deepa.
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Extremely touching! We read of these events in history books giving little thought to people who have actually faced that tragedy.. Thanks for sharing…
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Thank you so much. I am glad you visited and read the story.
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Fascinating story, truth is indeed stranger than fiction. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks for visiting, reading and commenting.
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Fascinating story and it makes you ponder over so many things too. Thanks for sharing a slice of your family’s history, Balaka!
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Thanks for reading and commenting Shilpa.
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What a family legend!! I loved these two names, so unique. You have such fascinating characters in your family and you describe them so well,dear.
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Ya, you are right, I have amazing characters in my family 😛 One day I will write about my ‘mad house’ also
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Awaiting it!! 🙂
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A poignant tale. Very well penned. It is so true we all came empty handed and we return too same way. So stay detached as much as possible from desires.
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Yes, we should practice detachment. Thanks for reading and commenting
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so many layers are there to the story. I love historical stories. Poignant story.
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Thanks Priya
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This makes my family history seem very mundane. What a poignant and thought-provoking piece Balaka.
A-Z of My Friend Rosey!
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Thanks Keith
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Tales of partition always bring tears to eyes. A moving one Balaka.
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Yes, they are indeed painful. Thanks for reading and commenting dear.
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Such a fascinating story from your family, Balaka. It’s as good as a panchatantra story loaded with a strong message also. Love the writeup as well.
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Where is your H post Varad? Couldn’t find it. And thanks for the comment. I love the comparison with Panchtantra tales.
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You are welcome, Balaka. I posted my H story only an hour back. My laptop has conked off and I’ve lost all my stuff. Had to write something afresh.
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Oh that is bad.. really bad
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Such a poignant tale, Balaka. The stories of partition are truly heartwrenching.
Kohl Eyed Me
Something’s Cooking
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Thank you Shalini. I agree they are heart wrenching.
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Price people paid for partition. Sorry for their loss!
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So much oral history in our sub–continent, lovely tale that is a window into cultural beliefs too
here from Second thoughts First
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Poignant tale retold very well by you Balaka. So much history entwined with your familial history. Glad these stories have been passed down.
a href=”http://namysaysso.com/blog/handmade-atoz2018/”>Handmade @ NamySaysSo
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Your life seems really amusing. All the letters so far have had interesting stories. If I was asked to do something like this it would probably take me years tk even get halfway. #Following 🙂
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Ha ha ha…i love to observe people and then curate their stories.
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I never heard that rhyme. When I started reading I thought these would be some imaginary story characters. very interesting to know their stories.
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No they are real characters. The rhyme is a family one.. outsider wouldn’t know
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Interesting story. Good to know about one more from your family and friends.
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Thanks Deepa.
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I’m really delighted I found my way to your blog today, and I’ll be going back and catching up on the earlier entries I’ve missed in your series. What a fascinating story – both for the peeks into the lives of your ancestors, but also because there’s so much here to think about how we live our lives. And I LOVE that you have a family rhyme about these two. I used to write rhymes about each of my family members, about something they did or that happened to them during the year, and then present it to them. It was quite fun.
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I really do not know who penned this rhyme, but my Dad used to sing it to me when I was a kid. It stayed in my memory. Thank you so much for visiting. I am glad to know that you liked my series.
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Such interesting characters. There are all kinds of people in this world. And there is a rhyme for them in your family. That is so interesting too. I am so loving your series.
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This probably is one of the best in your series so far!! Its got that human touch that I absolutely loved.
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The extent some people would go to so as to not part with their money. Beautifully crafted story, my dear!
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For a moment I thought Halum-Jhulum were fictional characters, as the poem in the beginning started much like a folk lore would.
What an interesting family saga this. Thank you for sharing, Tina.
https://natashamusing.com/2018/04/j-is-for-just-like-that-atozchallenge/
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Na na era satyi satyi chilo..thakumar cousins..I always loved the ditty on them and so finally wrote about them.
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Yeah, it’s like one of those childhood Bangla rhymes we grew up to- India Bindi Uki marry, gather aaral Thakay Uki maarey, Indier khidey pelo, gaach thakay nebay elo…
:-)))
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Issh..ki nostalgic ei chora ta.. indi bindi sindi chor, unki mare gacher aral theke, shonibare ekdin naki sure geyechilo gaan, tai shune indi bindi ure gelo pran…
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Tragic story. Thank you for sharing this with us.
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Enjoyed your family story. The clear, humourous narrative makes for a smooth read. These would make a great memorial.
How does your family react to being featured on this blog?
https://lonelycanopyblog.wordpress.com/2018/04/09/royal-hunting-lodge-kila-dalijoda/
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Oh they are super excited… Pishi is now quite old but her grandson read and loved it
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How cool … awesome writing, Balaka.
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