I did not want to be a Tea Planter. My father was a planter, one of the first Indians to break the glass ceiling of Brit Planters , back in 1945 ! but life is not always what you want, rather , what is meant for you. After spending months pounding the streets of Calcutta in search a job, with offers of two hundred rupees a month, I decided to head home and rework my thinking on the vocation to follow.
Pen to paper , writing out applications to Tea Companies ,I was called for an interview with McNeil & Barry at Calcutta. This went well, was accepted and sent up to Dibrugarh, Assam to join Maijan Estate as a junior factory assistant . Salary, 780 rupees a month, compared to earlier offers, a kings ransom.
Landed at Mohanbari Airport on the 15th of November 1967 and started what has been an amazing journey, covering 52 years in India, Viet Nam, Malawi and Tanzania.
I was picked up at the airport and taken to Maijan Estate, after a lunch provided by Meera Jamwal, wife of the senior factory assistant, Sukdev Jamwal, was taken to Maijan factory for introductions .
Mr Mohan Singh was the Manager, a delightful man, humble and a father figure, especially for young fresh assistants. While the introductions were going on, in comes a green Willys Jeep station wagon, driven at something akin to a hurricane force wind, screeching to a halt ,out emerges Frank Wilson, the Superintendent Manager and Big Boss of the Dibrugarh Estates.
Mohan Singh: Frank, this is Ranjit Dasgupta, he has just arrived and will be working with Sukdev as junior factory assistant.
Frank Wilson: Factory assistant eh? There is a tractor with a trailer loaded with green leaf, in the drain in Section 22, what are you doing about it ?
To myself: Section 22, trailer, green leaf..what the hell is he talking about !! What have I let myself in for by joining Tea!!
And so started my journey….. There were highs and lows, joy and sorrow, sadness and laughter..but what a journey !! I am truly Blessed to have walked this path.
FIRE..FIRE..
Three months had passed… winter ,a Sunday. Frank Wilson had gone to Shillong, Mohan Singh, my Manager, to Dibrugarh town, all the other Assistants to the club, I was alone ,sitting on the verandah of my bungalow engrossed in a book.
Shouting and noise, one of the servants from the “ White House” ( the name given to the Superintendents Bungalow because of its imposing columns at the entrance) Sahib, the bungalow is on fire and Mrs Wilson has sent me for help!!
Grabbing my bicycle, peddled furiously to the bungalow, while passing the factory, shouting to the security personnel to bring all the fire extinguishers to the bungalow.
As I got to the bungalow, Mrs Wilson in tears, save my home, please save my home!. Smoke and flames billowing from the Thatch roof, shouting to the servants to bring bamboo poles climbed up the iron ladder going up onto the roof. (This was a doubled storied bungalow in the colonial tradition, the roof as high as a modern four-storied building ). Scrambling up the thatch roof, I started pushing off the burning bits with bamboo poles, by this time some eight servants had climbed up, slowly we made progress, throwing the thatch off the roof. ( In those days the corrugated steel roof used to be covered with two to three feet of thatch , to keep the rooms inside cool.)
Most of the thatch was removed and as I was about to straddle the roof top, the bamboo slat my foot was on, snapped, losing my balance I started sliding down the the roof, desperately trying to grab the bamboo slats all of which snapped, hurtling me to the edge of the roof, one of the servants managed to grab my hand; with my feet dangling over the edge, he slowly pulled me up.
We lay there, gasping for breath …that was a pretty close shave, a fall would, for sure, have resulted in broken bones !!
Climbing down the ladder Ma Wilson , as we called her, threw her arms around me planted a kiss on my soot covered face and took me into the house a chilled beer!
Much Later that afternoon, the fire engine from Dibrugarh town rolled into the bungalow, bells ringing, screeching to a halt, the firemen asked the servants and Mrs Wilson “ where is the fire?'
TAKING THE BOSS’S DAUGHTER TO THE CLUB DANCE:
Visitors from our UK office were doing their annual rounds of all their estates. Frank Wilson was hosting a cocktail party for all “covenanted” ( “executives” in today’s parlance) staff, so I had on my best suit to meet the folk from London.
During the course of the evening Subir Ray ( a collogue and dear friend, going back to our college days in North Point Darjeeling ) and I were chatting with the Wilson’s daughter Patricia; the conversation turned to “dancing”, now, I loved dancing!! She suggested we go the following Saturday to Doom Doom Club for their “Meet”. This was an annual show, with tennis, golf and a dinner - dance.All clubs up and down the Assam Valley had these annual functions.
So we trouped off to Ma Wilson for permission to take Patricia to the dance, which she agreed to, saying ,don’t stay out too late.
Saturday came round, I had filled up the tank of my Ambassador car with petrol , and I had two spare tyres for the trip which would take a couple of hours.
The first puncture was at Lahoal..no worries I had two spares!
We got to Doom Doom club, loud music, laughter, the party was in full flow. Great evening with lots of dancing, and free-flowing booze . There was no drink & drive restriction in those days, and Planters had the uncanny ability of getting home safe and sound regardless of the level of alcohol in their blood streams !!
After an amazing dinner,somewhere around 1 am, we decided to call it a day and head home. We came out of the club to the car park…and yes a flat!!
A little concerned now, we drove off. All went well until we turned off the main road at the Dibrugarh club turning, when, bang a tyre burst! No spares.
Subir suggested that we walk down to the ABITA bungalows down the road, the Secretary was Mike Dutt, ( Subir was related to his wife Ratna.)
The time was now around 3 am. Reaching Mike’s Bungalow , the “ chowkidar” was fast asleep, walked upto the verandah, banged on the door (no door bells those days!) nothing!. Banged some more..heard a rustling noise, the door was whipped open and there stood Mike in his Dressing gown, finger on the trigger of the revolver pointing at my head !!
After throwing water on the sleeping “chowkidar/Security guard” Mike took out his car from the garage, and drove us back to the road to change the wheel of my car.
Last leg, dawn was breaking as we reached the Wilson’s Bungalow. Frank & Daphne Wilson standing on the upstairs balcony …..not a word. We stammered an explanation…. I was pretty sure I would be sacked the next day!
Nothing happened on Sunday..Monday morning office, which starts at 7 am. the field telephone rings, Frank Wilson wants to see me in his office…here goes..my short stint in Tea seemed to be ending!!
Timidly knocked on his door, expecting to get the ballocking off my life…instead in his gruff voice… “there are four new tyres in garage take them!”
MY LIFE PARTNER:
27th January, 1970.My college sweetheart and I found each other again, after we had lost touch when we both left North Point, College, Darjeeling.
Basanti had gone to Calcutta, I had driven down from Assam to Baradighi Estate in the Dooars to be with my parents over Christmas & the New year.
At the Baradighi Bungalow ( which was a classic Tea Bungalow), standing in front of the fireplace, in the sitting-room, roaring fire, a glass of whiskey in hand, with Mum, Dad and my younger brother Dilip,sitting in their comfy chairs. Acker Bilk playing softly on the gramophone .
The bearer comes in , letters on a salver, goes to Dad, “Sahib, dak abi aya.” ( Sir, the mail has just come in) Dad rifles through the envelopes, saying there is one for me and hands me an envelope. The writing on the envelope…I know it!
I open the envelope and there is Basanti’s letter, saying she was in Calcutta and it would be great to meet up. The only address she had of mine was my parents, so she had written there hoping it would eventually get to me!
Then the discussion, and the all important decision on what to do. All of them instantly said “go” Next morning I was on the JamAir Flight ( a second world War vintage plane, a Dakota) to Dum Dum, Calcutta.
We met up at my Uncle Spencer’s home. It was something of an emotional meeting, not having seen each other for four years. We found that we still had deep feelings for each other and decided to tie the knot there and then !!
In those days, we had to get permission from the Company Head Office to get married !!
The fun part was walking into the McNeil & Barry Office, going into A A J Roserio’s ( a real stuffed shirt) room. “ Ah Dasgupta are going on leave or returning from leave?” “ I am on leave Sir, and have come to seek permission to get married” “Married eh, so when are planning this momentous occasion young man” “ This afternoon, Sir” PIN DROP silence, AAJ’s Mouth dropped open, spluttering…does your Manager know?” Then a blue-faced lie from me, “ Yes Sir , of course” ( Thinking to my self, I would sort it out with Mr. Mohan Singh when we got back to the Estate!!)
AND, that was how I brought my college sweetheart home!!
We come from very different back grounds, Basanti is a Gujarati from a very conservative family, and I a Bengali, Christian and a Tea Planter to boot! Volatile stuff. But I must say, for all our differences, Basanti’s parents, especially her father accepted and welcomed me into their family, despite what their very conservative community would say, especially since he was the head of the “Samaj”
Our two amazing daughters Jasmina & Shaheen, have followed our footsteps, one marrying a Punjabi and the other Maharashtrian. We celebrate each others religious festivals and customs, and when asked “ what are you or where are you from"? Typical Indian way to find which part of the country you are from , generally in those days few inter-state /inter-religious marriages took place… so we just say we are “Indian”.
SHIKAR….hunting.
My father gifted me his double-barrel Beretta shotgun, a beautifully crafted gun, which I had used on the many hunting outings with my father in the Dooars. The license was granted by the Commissioner of police in Bangalore, along with the gun came packets of shells of various sizes, number 8’s, 4’s and balls, for the various game.
Keeping my Fathers advise in mind that I would never shoot for “fun” but rather for the table. Whatever I shot was always for the pot, never anything in excess. I was no great “ shikar” (hunter), wild fowl, Imperial pigeons, Yellow leg Green pigeons, wild geese and wild boar was the game I went for. Foodies will appreciate the flavour of wild boar in many dishes, or wild fowl curry, the delicate flavours of a greener or imperial pigeon and of course roast wild goose.
One is one with nature , when one goes out for a shoot. On one occasion up before dawn, this time it was hunting for wild boar. The paddy fields adjoining the forest had been cut, there was fallen grain on the ground, and wild boar had been spotted foraging around the paddy fields.
Walked along the raised earth dividers of the paddy, while still dark with a dim torch light. The air was crisp, cool, a lot of dew on the ground. Having chosen a tree to sit under, I settled myself to wait for the first light of dawn. There was low fog, the night sounds of the forest, crickets, the scurry of small rodents…one with nature.
The sky was starting to brighten, still a lot of low fog, a breeze lifting the fog and my heart just about stopped… not 50 yards from me was an Elephant, quiet, standing still.The wild boar came out to forage for grain, well within shooting range, but with the elephant alongside me, there was no way I was going to take a shot! My heart slowed and I just took in the scene unfolding before me.To my left was a huge elephant, swinging his trunk pulling up paddy stubs, in front ,a herd of wild boar, grunting, shuffling, the odd squeal and to my right, the red glow of the rising sun, bright diamonds of light on the leaves and grass as the sun-rays caught the dew drops. One with nature.
ELEPHANTS AND LE0PARDS…
In those days a big part of a Tea Planters social life revolved around the club. Tennis, Golf, screening of old movies and of course the Bar!
We were based at Salonah Estate and our club was Misa. In my time in Assam my two favourite clubs were Misa and Moran. Both relatively small clubs compared to Dibrugarh or DoomDooma. But I digress..
So on this Wednesday , returning home from the club after Tennis, and Tea ( dainty sandwiches & cup cakes !!) Its dusk and we drive along the Kelleyden garden road, turning right onto the dirt track going to Salonah. Just beyond the first culvert a pair of Leopards in the middle of the road!
Stop the car , wait and watch. Obviously young, their coats glisten in the failing light. They get up stretch…front legs down, back arched and then walk towards us.Slowly they come to the car, and walk past, one on each side , just below the windows. A majestic stroll.
After watching them in the rear view mirror, disappearing into the tea bushes, I start the car and move forward.
There is the forest to the left of us and tea bushes on the right.Its almost dark , switch on the headlights and there in the middle of the road a huge tusker! Stop! Better reverse, as I’m backing up, a herd of elephants come out of the forest and onto the road! Ok, let’s move forward and turn into the garden road. Slowly inched ahead and there in front of us ,a Matriarch with calves, stop turn around, scratching the paintwork of the car from the tea bushes. Head lights are still on, AND we have a problem, surrounded by a herd of some twenty Elephants.
What can we do? nothing ,sit and wait it out.Switch off the headlights and engine.
The next hour and half was perhaps one of the most unique experiences we have ever had.
The low rumbling, the switch of tails, a gentle bump as the herd moved all around us. A little squeal from one of the calves, the comforting low rumbling of the mother, and ahead the large tusker, a glint of white off its tusks.
Eventually, the herd moved away into the forest . Funnily enough after the initial palpitations , we weren’t afraid, we were just struck by the amazing experience of sitting in the middle of a herd of wild elephants!!
A CLOSE ENCOUNTER WITH A LEOPARD!
We were now posted at Hajua, the out division of Khoomtaie Estate.
This story starts on a Sunday and we are at Ashley and Patricia Larkin’s home at Moran Estate for lunch. The conversation turns to hair dressing, with Patricia lamenting that she dosen’t have the opportunity to use her skills. I volunteer for a haircut, and she says No, not on a Sunday.I reply why not and she says it brings bad luck and harm !! ( Pat is a wonderful Khasi tribal lady from Meghalaya) So I scoffed , nonsense I said ! Be it on your head , she says and gave me an excellent trim and cut, all the while mumbling, I have warned you!.
Fast forward to Monday morning , office as usual at 7 am. There is shouting and the running of feet, with the Staff bursting into my office. Sahib, Sahib..there is a Tiger in the tea where plucking is going on!
Tiger ! nonsense , must be a dog shaking the tea bush branches. So off I go to the section.All the workers are on the road, I think to myself have to sort this out or we will never finish the task for the day.
So I tell the men follow me, and I walked into the tea… a fairly good distance into the tea rows, out springs a large Leopard and vanishes into the bushes ahead of us. The pungent smell of the animal hanging in the air.
We waited for a good half hour, and then walked back into the tea with the men following behind me. We walked a good distance inside the section eventually coming to the edge of a large drain. There was that strong pungent smell of the leopard but no sign of the animal, and I turned sideways to tell the men that the animal had moved off and it was safe , when out of the corner of my eye I saw this large head of the Leopard rising up from the drain , below my feet, arms outstretched, claws out…within seconds it was on me, raking my back and arm as I scrambled over the row of bushes to escape.
I passed out. The next thing I remember is the women pluckers bending over me, wrapping their “ gamcha’s” ( Cloth scarves) over my wounds. The “ Brave” men had run away !!
Someone had gone to the Bungalow and told Basanti that I had been attacked by a Tiger and was probably dead.There was no driver that day, so she took out the car, gears grinding, engine racing , speeding to the section . There she found me on the ground covered in blood with the women pluckers tending to my wounds.
Getting me into the car she drove me to the central hospital, not too far away, fortunately the Chief Medical Officer, Dr Shyam was just driving into the hospital, after completing his rounds. Got stitched up, and then the injections started, fourteen of them over the next two weeks...How I hate injections!!
SADNESS…THIS EPISODE STILL HAUNTS ME:
We are now in Khoomtaie and we are in the out garden bungalow.The Factory Assistant is Ravi Javali. Ravi marries Manju, their wedding present was a pair of Alsatian pups. Months later both pups fall into a large pan full of boiling hot food which was being cooked for the pups. Both pups succumb to burns and die.
Months later Manju & Ravi are the proud parents of twins.The babies were born at Mercy Home, Dibrugarh, a hospital run by Nuns.
A couple of years later. The Post has brought me my copy of The Readers Digest and an article in it is about “burns” and how they should be treated. In the evening, on the way back from the office, I stop at Manju and Ravi’s bungalow for a cup of tea. Basanti was away visiting her parents. The conversation turns to my new copy of the Digest and the article on burns.
Back home, at around 11 pm that night, banging on my bedroom door, with the “chowkidar” shouting for me to go to the factory Asst house. The Manager, Narendra Bhagat wanted me there urgently.
Rushed over, Narendra was sitting in the verandah, bowed head in his hands. Went into the house down the corridor into the bedroom. Manju was on the bed, burnt over her whole body, Ravi sitting in the corner, burnt down the whole front of his body. The smell of burnt flesh , strong and horrible. Apparently, they had a fight, Manju poured “Flit” ( a mosquito repellent with a kerosene base) over herself, went into the bathroom and set herself alight. Hearing her screams Ravi banged open the door, tried to put out the flames with the plastic shower curtain, both of them on fire. The “Chowkidar” hearing the screams doused them with water, Ravi carried Manju and put her on the bed and slumped to the floor.
I had to get them to hospital, the nearest was in Dibrugarh a good two hour drive away. Sent for the estate ambulance, which took another half hour to find a driver . We put Manju into the ambulance, and I put Ravi on a mattress on the rear seat of my car and we drove off to Dibrugarh, the ambulance following me. The drive still gives me shivers.The smell of burnt flesh, the constant crying of Ravi in horrible agony, repeating over and over “ Manju”, “ Manju”.
The nearest hospital was the Government hospital in Dibrugarh , they refused to accept them saying it was a police case…it was now three in the morning, life was leaking out of both of them. In desperation I took them to Mercy Home, pleading with the nuns to take care of them, which they did. Manju had over 90% burns and Ravi 70%.
There was very little that could be done for them, Manju was unconscious, Ravi would surface call out for Manju and lapse back into unconsciousness. Manju passed away just short of midday and Ravi twenty minutes later.
To this day I often wonder if our conversation on burns in the Digest played a role, or was it destined, thinking back to their wedding gift of two Alsatian pups, both of which had died from burns.
Are there such things as warnings, or was it destiny for them both to die such a horrible death.
OF SPYING AND MISCONCEPTION UNDER THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT OF INDIA:
Khoomtai Estate , Moran. Mr S.Ghosh, Visiting Agent, was on his annual inspection. I should add that the week before the visit there was a conflict brewing between the Tea Garden workers and the local Assamese Villagers , adjoining the Estate.The situation was tense.
Back to the V.A.’s inspection, the Tea Fields and factory checked out well, the land preparation for the new planting, however, was on the slow side and I made a request for the purchase of 10Disc HARROW, which was granted.
Back at the office, I Phoned our supplier in Dibrugarh, getting a quote amounting to ten thousand rupees, the order was placed and delivery promised the next day.
Mr. Ghosh completed his inspection and went on to the next Estate and my Team and I sat back in my office relaxed and happy that the inspection went well.
Just as we were winding up for the day,I get a call from the Moran Police Station, nice and polite requesting me to come down to the Police station as the Superintendent of Police from Dibrugarh would like to meet me. I said “ certainly, what was this about” he replied” actually its a very serious matter and concerns National security” That got me flummoxed, National Security, ME ?!!
Hopped into my jeep and drove down with some intrepidation to the Cop Station. The Superintendent was waiting for me, I introduced myself, Ranjit Dasgupta, he says “ah Bengali?” “yes” I replied. Also, a few months earlier, there was some animosity brewing between the Assamese and Bengali population in Assam, which caused the “ah Bengali” comment !
Anyways, he dives straight in and accuses me of Anti National Activity! So I say “ don’t know what you are talking about” He continues,” Yesterday you phoned your contact in Dibrugarh asking him to supply ten thousand ARROW heads, which you are obviously ,planning to give to your workers, arm them and attack the local Assamese village adjoining your Estate. There is already a conflict between them, and you are planning a full scale massacre !”
Blood drained from my face, “ what the hell are you talking about, I have not made and such order or purchase” Triumphantly he pulls out a piece of paper and reads out the phone number that I had called to order the arrow heads.
The phone number was that of our supplier in Dibrugarh with whom I had ordered a 10 Disc HARROW costing Ten Thousand rupees!! HARROW, became ARROW , The Ten Thousand became the quantity!
Ofcourse, no apologies where given, except to say I have to be very careful not to engage in Anti National Activities!! Tapping of Phones was common place even back in the day, well before mobile phone tapping became common place as is today to track citizenry !!
INSURGENCY….TERRORISM AND MURDER:
Towards the end of the eighties and early nineties two groups gained forefront.The Assam students movement gained huge momentum and many , including a large portion of the Tea community were sympathetic towards their demands and ideals for Assam. The Student Leaders in later years went on to to be a major political force in the State.
Alongside this, the United Liberation Front of Assam ( ULFA) increased it acts of terror, ransom and murder, targeting mainly the Tea Estates, whom they saw as a soft target and huge source for funding their operations, buying weapons and setting up camps in the dense forests of Assam. Kidnapping managerial staff and demanding large ransoms for their release was the main plank for extorting money from Tea Companies. The Companies which did not pay up for the release of their personal were warned and then their staff were either murdered or tortured and released as examples to others, who were hesitating in making ransom payments
These were very dark times for the Tea Industry, with little Government or Police help. The ULFA cadre had infiltrated the government bureaucracy, banks, institutions and had an extensive spy network among these agencies and knew just about everything that was discussed or planned.
After numerous murders, and payouts that Tea Companies were making to this terror outfit to keep their staff safe; the Central Government eventually stepped in and launched army operations to capture, demolish insurgent camps ,and bring back normalcy… a pretty difficult task as ULFA had its grip on almost the entire population and Administration of the State Government.
My decision to leave Assam and resign from my Company to keep my family safe ,was due to my own experience with this terror outfit.
I will not go into the details of the kidnapping, or the sheer stupidity of the Head Office decisions in Calcutta. Suffice to say that when the security of your family and the consequent dire consequences that could prevail, it was time to leave.
This decision changed the path of my career and life . In hindsight it could not have been a wiser decision. When one door closes, another opens , if you have Faith and seek realignment of your life choices, nothing is impossible.
We left Assam while it was still dark and drove to Siliguri in West Bengal, almost like refugees. Long time friends the Gaffars, took us in.Our girls were in boarding school in Darjeeling, which was one less worry. We stayed a few days, gained a sense of normalcy and headed to Calcutta.
Another huge helping hand was Mohan & Rita Vohra. Mohan , a planter who had opened a Tea Estate in Assam from scratch, planting tea ,building a factory and a home for themselves. We were very good friends and had spent many a day with them, talking of the design for their home being built from the ground up. The young tea in the fields and layout of their factory, Shantipur, visionary stuff!. Mohan had also opened an office in Calcutta to design software. I guess he must have been the first Tea Planter who saw the huge benefits of Computerisation, not only for the husbandry aspect of tea fields , but also on a business platform for accountancy and tea sale activity. Not one to keep still, Mohon decided to add packet tea to his basket of tea production. The majority of the production went through the auction system, while a portion went into packets, branded as “Vohra Tea” Mohan was truly a man with a vision, far ahead of the conservative tea industry views .
I am truly proud to have had Mohan as a friend, and watched as he made his mark on the Tea Industry.
TRANSITION :
We were now in Calcutta, the hustle and bustle , the smells and sounds of a vibrant city. The Assam Company had agreed to continue to pay me for the next several months, and my Provident Fund dues were being processed, so we weren’t on the streets ! A two bedroom flat had been taken on rent in the Ballygunj area. Our first taste of city life. The bathroom attached to main bedroom was a story in itself! It was so tiny that you had to make up your mind as to what you were going to do, before you went, sit on the throne or go for a pee or have a shower…once in you could not turn around!!!!! OH Calcutta !!
Mohan was such a kind soul, he took me on in his company as a stop -gap ,until I found another job, keeping the wolf from the door!
Once again applications were made to various Tea Firms.Prodosh Sen, the MD of J,Thomas was instrumental in my being employed by JayShree Tea & Industries, as Visiting Agent for some of their Estates in Assam & Cachar. My immediate Boss was Mr. D.M.Jain, President of the Company.
So started my tenure with JSTIL over a ten year period, I was promoted to Vice President Production, looking after the Estates ….. First off, I stood out like a sore thumb. This was a highly conservative Company, with the strict hierarchy of a “Marwari” Company. Lots of bowing and scraping, lots of butter had to be applied if one wanted to move ahead!!. Unfortunately this was totally alien to me, and not my cup of tea! A carnivore who enjoyed his tipple, was casual but polite and spoke up when something was “off” !!
Perhaps this was the reason that Mr. Jain ( Janiji as we called him) took a liking to my way of working, taking me on all his inspection tours of the Estate and factories. I should add that the entire Head Office was more or less staffed by Accountants, who didn’t have a clue which end of the Tea Bush produced tea ( bit of an exaggeration, but you get my meaning !!) The “ Kings” were the four Presidents based on the Estates , Assam, Cachar, Darjeeling and South India.
I remember on my first visit with Jainjee to Assam. I am not going to mention names here , but the President of the Assam Estates must have had a degree in “ Bullshit Baffles Brains” !! So here was the scene, he would give an explanation to Jainjee about plucking, and I would say But, surely that’s not correct and would go to describe what was wrong with his reasoning !! Jainjee lapped up his discomfort, and over the years would turn more and more to me for a frank opinion.
We had settled pretty much into Calcutta life, and had made a few friends . The political atmosphere in the Head office was pure poison, so I made sure I left for the Estates every Tuesday and returned on the Saturday!! I enjoyed the work, though I had to do some dismissals of managers, which was never pleasant. There was this one guy who preferred to relax in his bungalow after morning office , and never went to the field. He would send his driver out in the jeep, wearing his hat and shirt to drive around the Estate, so that the workers would think he was doing his rounds !! On another one of my visits , on a rainy day, there was this guy, who came out of his Bungalow soaked to skin, saying he had just got back from the field. In actual fact ,he got word that I was on the way to his bungalow and stood under the shower , coming out soaking wet when I met him !!!!
Much needed young blood was inducted into top managerial positions. Human Resource Management was introduced, with a lot of support from Ms. Manju Khaitan. Young assistants found out that it was hard work and not butter that got them promoted! An added bonus was the planting and setting up of a Tea factory in a non-traditional tea growing area… great experience.Sourcing land from villagers, wheeling and dealing with the local hoods, but eventually establishing an estate and factory from the ground up!
TO FOREIGN LANDS…VIET NAM:
I had spent a decade with the Birla’s, learnt a lot about accountancy, the business culture and the difficult end of not saying the “wrong” thing and ofcourse,the profitability of ventures!
I have always had a fascination with Viet Nam, going back to my college days when the Vietnamese were fighting the Americans and winning. When news came from a dear old friend and ex- Boss from Assam Company days, Noshir Jalnawala, who was in Viet Nam and planning to retire; that Phu Ben Tea Company was on the look out for his replacement, I jumped at the opportunity .
In life’s journey there are people who you meet briefly, but who play a huge part in that journey. So it was with Ian Lang. Ian, ex Moran Tea Company Director ,now worked for a Belgium Company Sipef , who were in a Joint Venture with the Vietnamese Government for Phu Ben Tea Company. I had passed on my interest to join Phu Ben and Ian came out to Calcutta, interviewed me at the Moran Tea Company office. May 2000, he arranged for a quick trip to Hà Nội to visit Phu Ben before I took up the job. Noshir met me and briefed me, the set-up was totally different to the tea estates I had worked on. In a couple of days was back in Calcutta, handed my resignation letter to Jainjee, who was non too pleased at my decision to leave; and so started the next chapter of my journey.
We decided that I would go first to Viet Nam, and Basanti would follow after tying up loose ends with our apartment and the bank.
June 2000 landed at Hà Nội airport after transiting through Bangkok. A pretty bleak airport in those days, lots of stern looking military personnel, heavily armed. Not the best introduction. Viet Nam was a closed Communist country and was just starting to open up to foreigners.Noshir was at the airport to receive me, along with the driver Mr.Datt, whom I got to know very well later, quite an amazing man.
The drive along a rather broken highway took almost three hours. We travelled North from Hà Nội to Thanh Ba Town, where Phu Ben Tea Company was located. The accommodation was a double storied building which had been converted into four apartments, surrounded by a boundary wall .There was a long barrack type building within the compound that housed the interpreters. Communication was through the interpreters, we didn’t know Vietnamese and the locals didn’t know English, though some of the older generation in the village knew French, a hangover from the French occupation of Viet Nam.
Noshir’s lovely wife Nausha and their daughter met us as we arrived. Hugs all around, they were dear friends from my Assam days. The apartments housed Mervyn Brent, who was the General Director ( Managing Director ) they lived upstairs, Noshir in the bottom flat below them, Ranjan Datta , the Engineer ( who I also knew from Assam days) in the other flat upstairs and a guest flat below him. Nice and tidy !!
After dumping my suitcase, I took a gander around the compound ….there was this sense of familiarity and it took me a while to pull up a recollection. Some twenty five years earlier, we were in Rungagora Tea Estate, in Tinsukia, Assam. I remembered a visit to a very old Headman of a village near the estate. The Head man had something of a reputation of predicting events, my assistants who were with me persuaded me to sit down with him. We sat crosslegged on the floor, a large copper bowl of water was placed before him along with some roses.
He closed his eyes and started pulling the rose petals off the flower and dropping them into the water. There was a stillness in the room and then he began to speak, in a soft, low voice. Talking about my childhood on a tea farm, growing up in the mountains ( my Schooling and College was in Darjeeling in the Himalayas) living next to the mighty Bhramuputra River. ( Before Rungagora we lived in Nagagooli which was along the river, and eventually the entire estate was eroded by the Bhramaputra) And then he said, I would travel to distant lands, and work with people from a different race. I would live in a house ,at the entrance of which would be a Temple, with the gurgle of running water of a stream behind the house, and that I would find contentment and happiness in my work.
I did not put much credence to what I though was the fanciful imagination of the Elder ( though his description of my childhood was pretty accurate) This was a good twenty five years earlier. There was zero chance of my going abroad, zero chance of ever thinking of working abroad. And yet, here I was in Than Ba, Viet Nam, living among people of a different race. The entrance to the compound of our accommodation had a small temple (not a temple in the Indian sense) but as is found at the entrance of all Vietnamese homes, where a candle is lit and has a small figurine of Buddha/Deity. Behind the building was a small stream, with water flowing past the length of the building. This period of my life in Viet Nam would turn out to be the most satisfying, fascinating and productive time of my Tea Career.
Phu Ben ( loosely translated meaning riches) Tea Company was established as Joint Venture between Vina Tea from the Government of Viet Nam and Sipef, a Belgium Company based in Antwerp, whose mainstay business was palm oil and rubber in Malaysia & Papua New Gunie. The Head of Sipef was Baron Bracht, I must add here that of all my employers, Baron Bracht stood tall. Obviously old school in style and manners, but so down to earth in understanding the problems, issues and indeed the vision of the Vietnamese people.
The setup at Phu Ben was totally different to Estates in India. There were initially two tea factories for manufacturing the tea leaf from fields operated by farmers, with little control of what or how the farmers looked after their fields. The two factories were geared to the Orthodox style of manufacture and mainly produced poor quality leaf tea of the Orthodox style, which was bartered to the USSR. Ranjan Datta, the engineer did a magnificent job of converting both factories to a full CTC (Crush/Tear/Curl) style of manufacture. For the non-tea folk, this means the tea produced was granular, as is found in tea bags and packs, and more suited to the rather poor quality of green leaf harvested by the farmers.
Noshir ‘s job , as Advisor, was to try to put in place a system akin to Estates in India & Africa, but since he had no tangible authority to enforce the system it was an uphill task. He laid out numerous “Demonstration” plots, so that the farmers could visually see the tangible effects of better Tea husbandry. This was the set-up I came into when I joined Phu Ben as an “ Advisor” to take over from Noshir.
A month later Noshir and family left, after showing me the ropes and initiate me into Viet Nam. I was so very curious about the culture, the life styles, eating & drinking habits of the Vietnamese people. I was warned that” politics” or any discussions of a Political nature of the Government was Taboo and to stay clear.
There were no motor-able roads around the tea areas, so it was walk, and walk and walk, with my interpreter, visiting all the farms, meeting and getting to know the farmers, in their fields and their homes.We would sit sipping cups and cups of green tea talking about their aspirations, their tea plots. There were many questions about my life, my family, the world outside. They were getting to know me, as I was getting to know them and gain their trust in the advise that I would give on improving their harvest and earning.
Over the next couple of years the number of tea nurseries were increased, additional demo plots, and training off Field Officers took up the work day.The weekends were spent reading and listening to music or watching DVD’s movies on theVCR/Television. An incident stands out. Having come from India, I locked cupboards, doors, windows everything !! One weekend I get a message from the Local Chairman of the “Party” in Thanh Ba, asking if I would like to join him for a beer at the local Beer Hoi. A “Beer Hoi” is a local pub, where they brew their own beer, the alcohol content varies with the season, lighter in the summer heat, and stronger during the cold winter! There are these small stools and low tables where a five litre jug ( or less depending on the number of people) of ice cold beer is served with a bowl of boiled peanuts. Anyways back to my story, my interpreter Quan and myself sit down with the Chairman Mr. Duc, and we chat, he asks how I am settling in , and then goes on to say that he hears that I lock up everything, cupboards, doors, windows and asks “why” I reply for safety. He then says, “ every man, women and child in ThanBa is responsible for your safety, you are our guest, there is nothing to be afraid of, nothing will be stolen, nor will you ever come to any harm” From that day and for the next decade that I spent at Phu Ben, nothing, but nothing was ever locked!!
I remember my first visit to Hà Nội , excited to go into the city from the countryside of Thanh ba. Early morning start with Mr Dat my driver and my interpreter Quan, for the three hour drive. We chatted along and I had to ask Mr Dat ( he had served in the army during the American war) what were his thoughts on America, I got a very tongue in the cheek comment, see Ongdagupta (respectful address for a senior, and the Vietnamese can’t pronounce the letter”S”!!) The French came, we kicked them out, the Chinese came we kicked them out, as for Americans we sent them off with their tails between their legs ! No animosity, just a shrug ! The fact remains that the Vietnamese lost millions of their men & women in the American War, every home was touched, the sacrifices were huge, very evident from the vast number of graves all over the country. The dead in Viet Nam are honoured and the graves of fallen hero’s from the American War are places of quiet beauty. Names inscribed on tomb stones, wreaths regularly placed, the traditional bottle of vodka , a packet of cigarette and incense sticks. These are a proud people who have learnt to move on, while keeping their heroes alive in their hearts. In every home there is an altar set high on the wall of the main room, with photographs of the fallen, never forgotten.
So, we arrive in Hà Nội teaming with bicycles, thousands of them , carrying impossible loads. The first stop had to be the Mausoleum of Ho Chi Ming ( Uncle Ho as he was affectionally called) 24 hour armed guards in brilliant white uniforms at the entrance, ramrod straight, like statues. The quick walk around to pay our respects, Uncle Ho lying in a glass topped coffin, perfectly preserved.
Hà Nội is such an amazing city, in those day before “Doi Moi” (opening-up) was fully effective, there was very much a culture very different from the sparkling city that it is today. The narrow lanes crammed with family stores, pavement eateries again a family business, flower sellers, the smiles, laughter, “ Xin Chao” (Hi, hello) “Refreshing” ,doesn’t come near to describing the feeling! Hoa Kiem lake, tree lined roads , the Opera House ( very French) To this day, Hà Nội is up there at the top of my list of favourite cities. And so onto lunch at a local restaurant, especially chosen by Mr Dat, who was something of a connoisseur of Vietnamese food and drink. I was introduced to the numerous delicacies of Vietnamese cuisine , washed down by Hà Nội Beer. My first trip to the city was nothing short of amazing.
Weeks, into months and into a couple of years, working under Mervyn Brent, the General Director ( MD ). Mervyn, a Brit, was big man, physically, enjoyed good food and wine , his wife, was a beautiful lovely lady from Norway. He enjoyed office work, admin stuff, graphs & charts, rarely went out into the summer heat of the tea fields. A very generous, kind man, but Tea Plantations don’t run themselves, and regardless of the daily reports that I gave him, sooner or later the Team from the parent Company of Sipef were going to find problems with his style of functioning and so it happened. Ian Lang was visiting and as Mervyn was unable to walk the hills of tea areas I took Ian around the many tea fields, explaining what we were doing and problems that needed to be addressed. Anyways, long story short , one evening there was an almighty row between the two of them. Next morning Ian comes into my office and asks me if I would be agreeable to take over the company as General Director and run it!! I certainly was not expecting such a quick elevation ! It was sad to see Mervyn go, he was a good man, but perhaps more suited to a regular Tea Plantation system, with many assistants and back-ups.
The take over was smooth, no hassles and now I had to build my team. Folk already knew my style of working was not sitting behind a desk. My second in command and Vice Director was Mrs Cuc. No English, so conversations through an interpreter , all the while trying to learn the language. The Heads of the Factories, Mrs Thuc and Plantations Mrs Nga. An all Lady team!! But without a word of lie, the best team I have had in my entire tea career. They were phenomenal. They were prepared to go the extra mile IF they were convinced that my plans were good for the Company and more importantly the Vietnamese farmers & workers!! Sheer dedication.
Weeks stretch into months, we have now acquired the Doan Hung Factory and Plantations, and have three factories and some 2,000 hectares of plantations. The tea fields have been reorganised, making the farmers more accountable for the husbandry of their plots and the factories more accountable for the quality of teas produced. Everyone has stepped up their game, yields have increased from 3 tons green leaf per hectare to 14 tons . We have applied and received various International Quality Certifications and Phu Ben is considered a Premier Tea Plantation Company and a success story for the Joint Venture model in Viet Nam.
However, changes have taken place in our Sipef Head Quarters in Antwerp. Ian Lang has left to join Finlays and establish an office in Hà Nội, he has been replaced by Dev Thapar, again an old hand from Assam Company. The Directors have decided that we buy out the Vina Tea stake in Phu Ben and make it a 100% Belgium Company. Many meetings, many meals and the consumption of many bottles of whiskey and exquisite bottles of wine later ,the deal with the Government was finally done!
I am something of believer in having backup plans, so when I heard that Ian Lang was coming to Hà Nội to set a Finlays Tea office, I knew that he would poach my secretary Mrs Hai ( with whom he had a very close connection stretching many years.) I needed to find a replacement and hired a young lady, extremely efficient ,fluent in English, and a quick learner, Ms Hoa. She was a rare find and would become a very valuable member of my team. Years later ,giving her away in marriage to an upstanding young man from the Vietnamese foreign service, was such a joy , they went on to start a family with twins no less !!
As I had anticipated Ian did indeed poach Mrs Hai, which caused some unpleasantness between us! Ms Hoa, stepped into her role eventually rising to become a Vice Director. These were good days, the team was solid, part of which was a young man Giang, who looked after Marketing and shipping. Dinners at the Local, singing loud songs and shouts of “ Mot, Hai, Ba Dzo” ( cheers) as the Beer and Vodka went down the hatch! The ladies had hollow legs and could ,on most occasions drink the gents under the table !!
We had become pretty well known by this time and were invited to functions as speakers on Tea. Merchants, business companies, politicians were all very much part of the success story of Phu ben. There was this one occasion, when the team was invited for a dinner to honour us, the menu..SNAKE !! I had never eaten snake, so I was a bit, shall we say ,nervous. Anyways we land up at this restaurant in Hà Nội where the function was to be held. First came the Vodka…. mixed with snake blood !! Then the small eats of snake , more vodka, more snake for the mains, more vodka and that’s about all I remember of the night!!
Food in Viet Nam can be pretty exotic , but the normal foods is very very good and simply put, delicious!! For instance Lobster, another invite, the living Lobster is weighed and brought to you and apart from the blood of the lobster mixed with vodka, is an amazingly tasty meal. The Sea food is out of this world, frogs legs ( which I though I would never enjoy!!) , pork, chicken, duck, the veggies , morning glory, the lashings of garlic and fish sauce, which made it impossible for Basanti, who is vegetarian, to have!! Yup, for vegetarians food was a major problem !! My favourite was a dish call “ bun cha” grilled pork with noodles, I still drool thinking about it !!
Moving on towards the end of my tenure with Sipef, which as I had mentioned had its main business in Palm oil and Rubber. Sipef now needed funds for an acquisition of additional Rubber plantations in Papua New Guinea. The hard-nosed financial accountants in Antwerp, put across their pitch that Tea was not the core business of Sipef, and while Phu ben was much loved by Baron Bracht, for Sipef to expand ,Rubber in P&G had to be the way to go. And so the decision to sell was taken. Dev Thapar flew into Viet Nam to break the news that broke the hearts of the entire team…..depressing gloom settled in. Ian Lang was involved in the sale and brought the team of potential new buyers from McLeod Russel to visit. McLeod Russel was an Indian Tea Company owned by the Khaitan’s and various shareholders. This would be their first acquisition outside India.
Baron Bracht extended an invitation to Basanti and myself to visit Antwerp, by way of saying Thank you and as a farewell gesture. So off we went to Antwerp, via Paris and planned to go onto Spain and spend a few days in Paris on the way back. Sipef Head Quarters was quaint, in an actual castle, lots of artefacts from the Bracht linage of Barons through the hundred of years of their founding. Everyone at the office went out of their way to make our visit as enjoyable and fun filled as possible, taking time off from work to show us the city. It was a really lovely “ goodbye”
The change over from Sipef to McLeod Russel.
The Viet Nam Government frowns on Private players buying and selling what they feel are the countries assets, land belongs to the country, so for any sale of a company, the land is leased to owner by the Government. McLeod Russel ( MRIL ) did not have any contacts with the Government , and for the sale to go through, Sipef had asked me to stay on to0 ensure a smooth transition. Once again , many meetings, introductions, no meals and no whiskey, strictly formal, primarily because the MRIL folk did not understand Vietnamese culture!! Eventually all the formalities were completed, I stayed on for an additional two years to hold the hands of the new owners.
Every year MRIL have what they call the “ Tee-up-cup” a long weekend when everyone from all their Estates congregate at a central Estate for Golf,Tennis, cocktails and a dinner -dance. Big affair, with the musicians flown in from Calcutta and all the tea ladies outdo themselves in the catering department. Fine dining par excellence. I was invited to come out from Viet Nam to represent Phu ben , and for the managerial staff to show off their new acquisition. A small light plane met me at the Gauhati airport and flew me to the estate where the the function was to be held. That evening, after the first round of cocktails a young assistant driving back home had an accident and died. Next morning I thought they would either scrap the event or make it a small affair of only sports. Nothing doing, ( I am not going to mention names) the Calcutta Managerial staff told everyone that the show would go on, all the Managers bowed down to the diktat, while the Assistants gathered in small solemn groups , non to happy, their colleague had just died. The following year another accident, another death but the show went on. For me , personally I just felt hollow inside, and not what I could condone. Back at Phu ben they sent their Senior Manager to start the taking over operations, not a moment too soon as far I was concerned.
My relationship with MRIL was deteriorating, their style of working did not sit well with me. I was looking forward to the end of my tenure with them. They had sent Prabhakar Choudhry to me as an understudy for the eventual takeover. Prabhakar, was in fact a perfect choice, he understood what he needed to understand which was the culture and customs of the Vietnamese people ; he would have been a perfect fit for the job. Unfortunately his time in Viet Nam was cut short when his wife developed cancer and they had to return to India. They were a very lovely couple, she passed away a few months later, leaving behind Prabhakar and two young daughters. His replacement was a totally different story, let’s just leave it at that.
My send off from Phu Ben by all the staff, farmers, town folk will always, but always remain etched in my memory of the love, affection and appreciation of having welcomed me into their families, and from their side I was Vietnamese!
ANOTHER CHAPTER OPENS….
At Phu Ben we had many visitors from the Tea buying fraternity who stayed the night and went around our Plantations and factories. It was really fun to have these visitors from many parts of the world, listen to their take on Tea, their operations and their visions on the world tea trade.
One, among these visitors was Kevin Shah, owner and President of Harris Freeman, a US based Company, which was the largest private label packer in North America. They sourced tea from around the tea growing world. On this particular visit, conversation turned round to my plans for the future. This was much before the McLeod Russel buyout, my answer was that, every morning when I got out of bed , put my feet on the floor, and felt the excitement of another day working in Tea, in the fields and factory, I would continue to work in Tea,( I was well into my sixties!!) however when that the day came and I did not feel that excitement, that buzz, but rather felt another boring slog of a day, that was the day I would quit. Kevin then said, when you retire from SIPEF, and want to continue in tea contact me, adding that this was not a polite after dinner offer but a serious one.
HARRIS FREEMAN, USA
Anyways, I digress, back to my story. With my tenure with MRIL coming to a close I contacted Kevin, who immediately responded, saying that he was coming to Viet Nam and to meet him at their Pepper Processing facility in South Viet Nam. The visit was basically to introduce me to his team , and confirm my employment .
Titles don’t mean much to me, but I was designated as Director Harris Freeman, Viet Nam as well as Director iRely , which was a software development Company based in Bangalore, India, owned by Harris Freeman. I had told Kevin that I wanted to return to India and operate from my home base, hence the Bangalore appointment.
This started the next and final phase of my career. On the corporate side was iRely which developed software aimed at the Agri-business segment, world wide. All the clients were either in the States or Europe , as well as our own in-house operation of Tea & Spices. My team consisted of twenty three brilliant young folk, the age gap between the team & myself was some forty-five plus years , a generation gap!! The business grew, we shifted to larger business premise and the team grew to one hundred thirty souls !!
On the tea side, Harris Freeman adopted a policy which stated that the Company would give back to the small holder tea farmers, by way of training, development of tea fields, provision of quality Tea plants, education, housing, schools, water supply to villages, communication; to those countries from where we sourced our teas. We wanted to champion the cause of the Small Holder Tea Farmer, often neglected, improvised, scraping together a merger income to support their families. So started our Projects in Malawi and Tanzania. For me personally, its was a godsend, to be in a position where I could give to the small holder tea farmers the benefit of my experience and expertise, to improve their lives and provide them with a better quality of life.
MALAWI
First came Malawi, where we, Annie Graham, from Sainsburys UK who partnered us on this project, Jean Rene Grailhe from Keith Spicer, a Harris Freeman owned Packaging company in the UK and myself . ( Both Annie and Jean Rene have a special place in my heart) I , so distinctly remember our first visit, children barefooted, ragged clothes surviving on one meal a day. Their parents working on pathetic plots of tea , giving them very low yields and consequent merger incomes. The daughters of the houses walking for miles to carry home a pitcher of water. The schools consisted a large tree, under which the children sat on small stones and with twigs wrote on the flattened mud in-front of them..paper and pencils were an absolute luxury if at all available.
Deep down I felt this enormous excitement , here was a challenge worth competing in. I put together a team, with a Manger and field officers. These would be my work hands, as I was based in Bangalore. I would fly out every six weeks.( Something like an 18 hour journey !!) This group of small holder farmers in Mulanji, sold the green leaf to Lujeri Tea Company which processed and eventually sold the teas to Harris Freeman, along with their own plantation harvests. But because the quality of the small holder leaf was so poor, and the yields dismal, payments to farmers were also dismal. The group of some eight hundred farmers formed the Sukembazi Association Trust, and it was with this group that we worked.
AGENT ORANGE DIOXIN, AMERICA’S LEGACY TO VIET NAM:
In addition to my work in Malawi I also flew every six weeks to Viet Nam to organise & setup packaging of ice tea , branded as “Harris Tea” for retail throughout the country, as well as visit our Pepper Processing Plant in South Viet Nam.
Harris Freeman operated a Foundation for various projects around the world. I had since my college days followed the American war ( The Americans called this the “ Vietnam War”) with a great deal of interest and sympathy for the Vietnamese peoples. Even though the Americans were beaten in a war that started in 1955 against French, cumulating in the American War which ended in 1975, they left behind a terrible legacy.
In an effort to find an invisible enemy the Americans sent up their planes to spray 19 Million Gallons ( some 91 million litres) of Agent Orange; a dioxin, used by them as a defoliant over the thick jungles of Central Viet Nam , especially in the Da Nang region. Some 12,000 sq. miles were relentlessly targeted. Four Million Vietnamese citizens were exposed to this dioxin, which seeped into the water-ways and soil. Well over three million people contracted various forms of cancer, multiple Myeloma, Hodgkins disease . This horror did not end here, but continued into the next generation of children, born deformed in mind, spirit & body. A Japanese study in 2002 found that lactating mothers had traces of the Dioxin in their breast milk, 27 years after the war ended and the Americans had left. I had visited a non-profit outfit in Da Nang who were struggling to help & provide for the children suffering the effects of Agent Orange Dioxin. Meeting the children and their mothers brought me to tears and a gut-wrenching feeling of sadness.
I put together a very hard-hitting presentation of the suffering of these innocent children and put in a request for a grant from the Harris Freeman Foundation to built a clinic in Da Nang and work with DAVA ( Da Nang victims of Agent Orange Dioxin) .
There is no cure for the effects from the Dioxin, but using a method called the Hubbard Principle, also used by the Vietnamese army to treat their combatants, the suffering could be eased. The Harris Freeman Foundation, stepped up and immediately sanctioned the funds. A clinic was built in six months, staffed by a Doctor, nurses, helpers, both voluntary and paid. Groups of thirty children went through a cycle of treatment over a two week period. Our target was to treat and give some comfort to at least two hundred children in multiple cycles every year.
The Smiles on the faces of the mothers and their children was reward enough. For those elder children , we opened an incense making department for them to sell their product and earn money to help their parents. We bought sewing machines for them to stitch clothes, table cloths. Taught the children who had use of their hands to embroider. In all of the projects that I have been involved with , this is right there at the top of the list and I am most grateful to have been given the opportunity to spread a little comfort .The courage of the children and their mothers to face each day, to live each day, to cry each day, to laugh each day….. is the bravest thing I have ever witnessed.
THE TANZANIAN PROJECT FOR SMALL HOLDER FARMERS AT RUNGWE:
Harris Freeman worked with the Rungwe small holder factory to start a project, similar to the the one we were doing in Malawi, for small holder farmers in the Highlands of Rungwe. Here there was already a field team in place, funded by the factory and the Tea Association for some 12,000 farmers. Our take was to hire a full-time Field Officer to manage our initiative of setting demo plots, hold hands of the 12,000 farmers by providing the latest tea husbandry expertise, provide fertilisers, establish composting and so on. Fortunately there was no chemical usage for pest control, which made the task easier to keep teas pesticide free.
Jean Rene from our UK Company Keith Spicer accompanied me on our first visit and we were in fact taken aback by the suspicion of the farmers of our intentions.We had quite a time convincing them that we were not there to take over their tea plots, but rather to help them improve their yields and quality of green leaf.
Most of the fields were in poor state of neglect, unlike the Malawian farmers who depended solely on tea , these farmers had other crops to fall back on, so it some real heavy lifting to get them to understand that in-fact ,it was Tea cultivation that was the sustainable way to lift them out of poverty and bring about a better quality of life for them and their families. Part of the problem was the past political equation, whereby there were State run Tea farms, and when this was abolished, the result was any number very small plots per family, making them unviable.To get the farmers to manage their own plots but to act as a consolidated team was the challenge.
A very different set of circumstances compared to the success story of Malawi , requiring a different set of options and working conditions, eventually reaching that target of vastly improved yields with a quality of leaf that was provided to the factory. This resulted in higher sale prices and a greatly improved return to the farmer … a few farmers went out and bought themselves small trucks to ferry their other produce to the market, others bought cows, pigs, chickens, the number of motorcycles increased giving way to greater communications, one meal a day turned to three, admissions to schools went up. At the end of the day, the most gratifying part of these projects for me, was the transformation of the farmer, from the sad ,solemn, hopelessness look on their faces, to the bright light of hope that could be seen their eyes. Indeed, I have been so Blessed to have had the opportunity to be part of their journey of transformation. The send off I received from the farmers on my retirement was ever so moving, the songs, the dancing, the gifts of litres of milk & chickens, ( from their homes, which obviously I could not take, but the thought behind the gifts was ever so touching) bundles of colourful cloth for Mama (meaning Basanti) Yes, Blessed indeed!!
My NEW FOUND LOVE FOR PHOTOGRAPHY:
Basanti & I would take a vacation every year to different countries around our wonderful world stretching from New Zealand to Alaska , and so on our first big self drive road trip to New Zealand I picked up my first “proper” camera ( all the other point n shoot stuff were ok for holidays, but New Zealand..this was a whole different ball game!!) And so I fell in love with “ serious” photography. Over the past decade or so I have been able to up my skills, the results you can see on my website: www.ranjitsportfolio.com .
While I don’t have any specific skill-set for a particular subject . There is so much beauty around us , that to stick to just one subject, for me, restricts and stifles my desire to capture that shot which swells your heart and just about takes your breath away! Be it a small dainty rain-feed fungi ( mushroom) or the roar of a Lion or the light that falls on a centuries old room with furniture and books from a different era.
Working in Malawi & Tanzania was such an opportunity to explore the many games reserves. Of course there were the famous ones of Serengeti in Tanzania, or Maasai Mara across the border in Kenya, but the world and his brother seemed to be there!! Dozens of jeeps with tourists jostling for a good view. So I preferred the lesser know smaller reserves of Liwonde, Majete, Lengwe in Malawi or Ngorongoro & Nyerere in Tanzania.
Let me try and give you a picture, this is in Majete, Malawi.There is tented accommodation inside the reserve, my tent was just off a waterhole. Dawn breaks, the first lot of animals, the deer, warthogs, an elephant approach and spend time drinking and feeding…the rustle of breeze, as the sun comes up, and my camera & I have a front row seat! On another occasion, in a “hide” watching the the endangered two horned black rhino move out into the open . The wildebeest migration on another occasion , such an amazing experience.
I guess my experience at Lengwe is a story I never get tired of telling or rather , of how the animals can teach us a thing or two about respect and manners!!I its dark when we leave our accommodation and head to a large water-hole, leaving the vehicle to sit behind a clump of bush and tall grass. The sky lightens and down come the skittish Zebra to the water -hole, I spy a pair Alligators in the water, a Hippo, water birds. The Zebras leave, then the wildebeest descend, followed by the deer and on the banks awaiting their turn are the Giraffes. No pushing & shoving, just patiently awaiting their turn to have a drink. We Humans have so much to learn from the animals & birds in our world .
These memories and recollections are just a snap-shot, a glimpse, a blur of the passage of time that I spent over the 52 years as a Tea Planter.
I was put out to pasture by my last employers, Harris Freeman, way past the age of retirement in 2019 when I reached 75. At the time of writing we live in Bangalore, quietly, our daughters live in Perth Australia, so we look forward to travelling to them frequently. My camera accompanies me whenever I go to the nearby lakes in Yelahanka, or travel to the forests, hills and mountains in India. I find being a photographer gives me a different perspective on just about everything , most of all being so thankful to your Maker for the beauty that surrounds us and just to be alive… alive …alive!!
A final thought , when my time on our earth is done….. what would have been my legacy? I guess I would say that I was so very Blessed to have been given the opportunity to touch so many lives, and leave behind footprints of my Safari through India, Viet Nam, Malawi and Tanzania.