Blood sweat tears of an indentured family by Dr Ram L Prasad

STORY OF GIRMIT BLOOD,SWEAT & TEARS OF AN INDENTURED FAMILY Plight, Problems & Progress of an Indentured Family FROM BASTI TO BOTINI

GROWING UP IN SABETO

FROM FIJI TO BRISBANE

FROM 1906 TO 2013

The determined, dedicated, diligent & devoted discovers define their destiny. Life and Living of Sarju Mahajan & Gangadei Family Growing up in Fiji

D R RA M LA K HAN P RA SA D

Over a hundred years of colourful history of an immigrant family from Basti in Uttar Pradesh in India to Botini in Fiji and then to Brisbane in Australia.

Plight, Proble ms and Progress of an Indentured Family in Fiji from 1906 to 2013

Blood, Sweat & Tears of an Indentured Family. Dr Ram Lakhan Prasad 2013

Sarju Mahajan My Grand Father

Gangadei My Grand Mother

Bhagauti Prasad My Father

Ram Kumari My Mother

Blood, Sweat & Tears of an Indentured Family. Plight, Problems and Progress of an Indentured Family in Fiji from 1906 to 2013

STORY OF GIRMIT

Episode One

Root, Boot and Toot The subtitle of this episode is Root, Boot and Toot because my grand parents came from a village called Basti in Uttar Pradesh of India and this was their root. However, while my grand parents were working on the sugarcane plantations of the Colonial Sugar Refining Company in Fiji as indentured workers from 1906 to 1916 after being uprooted from their root they were treated very badly by the overseers on the farm. My grand parents were beaten, whipped and kicked by the boot of these cruel sirdar.

But their life became better when they received their freedom and established their own farms. Their wagon of family life began to toot with joy and pride. This is a sad and tragic true story of my grand parents, Sarju Mahajan and Gangadei from 1906 to 1986. It is full of emotive events that go on to show how their blood, toil and sweat went on to make valuable contribution to develop their family life first and then assist the country and the Colonial Sugar Refining Company prosper in Fiji. In order to get these detailed episodes from them I had to do my share of service to them by showing my love and compassion for them. When I used to read the chapters of the Hindu Epic Ramayan to them every evening they would narrate

their stories of migration from Basti in Uttar Prades in India to Botini in Fiji very slowly and gradually after the conclusion of the reading. In the process of that narration they laughed, cried, got angry and showed intensive remorse. Sometimes while telling their tragic stories they became so emotional that I had to leave them alone to cool themselves. When slavery was abolished by the revolutionist William Wilberforce from this world then the attention of the large farm owners in the British colonies turned to India. By 1879 the turn of Fiji came to recruit young and healthy vulnerable Indian by deceitful methods and questionable means to ship them to Fiji to work on the farms of the then Colonial Sugar Refining Company.

Fiji is a nation of over 300 islands in the South Pacific Ocean. Fijians, Indians, Europeans, Chinese and others have been living in reasonable harmony for over two centuries. Fijiâ&#x20AC;&#x;s climate is tropical with adequate rainforests and pine plantations. Indians do cultivation of sugarcane and there are coconut palms galore. A country of uncertain political and economic future but has to support at least three quarter million people. This country is my motherland and I have a special feeling for the place. The Fijian Chiefs ceded Fiji to the British Government in 1874 but the natives were not culturally ready to participate in the economic development of the country. So the British Government in conjunction with some multinational enterprises went to other colonies to bring 8

people who could be manipulated to help them achieve their economic goals. The Colonial Sugar Refining Company with the help and support of the British Government was willing to exploit the situation and enter the scene of the so-called economic development of the country. The Company hired cunning recruiters (Arkathis) to visit various villages and cities of India to recruit young and healthy Indians who could work on the sugarcane plantations and orchards belonging to them. They in turn recruited Indian Priests and Village heads to do the initial ground work for them because the people there could trust these men. Thus began the Indenture System for

the Colony of Fiji in 1879 . It is commonly known as Girmit.

Gangadei my grand mother

Gangadei was my grand mother. She was a pretty girl and was as calm as her name sounds. She was born in Sitapur in the district of Basti Uttar Pradesh (North India). She was the last of the four children of the farming family. Very little else is known about her childhood but she was an intelligent and a strong woman. She was a twelve-year-old girl when she accompanied a group from her 10

village to go to the annual Ayodhya Festival, a religious gathering of villagers. This festival used to be so crowded with people that once one is lost it would be impossible to locate them easily. It was in that massive crowd of people that my grand mother got separated from the village group. She felt alone and frantically began searching her group but alas there was no hope. Tired and hungry she decided to sit down in a corner completely disappointed. At that time her condition was like a fish detached from water. Where could she go? Who would help her? What should she do? She was confused and did not know what to do. She had lost her thinking power altogether in this confusion. â&#x20AC;&#x17E;Into thy hands Lord, I commend my 11

Spirit.‟ Nothing remained in her own hands, everything in His. A yellow robed pundit of middle age saw my grand mother‟s condition and expressed his wish to assist her. Such people were respected in the village and she felt at ease to talk to him. He spoke kindly, “Beti, why are you crying? Have you lost your way? Have you lost your family members? You don‟t worry because as a holy man I am here to help you.” My grand mother felt that this help was god sent and she greeted the pundit with respect and told him her sad story. Punditji realised that my grand mother was in real need for his assistance and this made him very happy. The pundit however, hid his real eager feelings and expressed his concerns and pseudo sadness as if 12

his own daughter or sister was in trouble needing his assistance. He pacified my grand mother and expressed his sorrow. May have shed some crocodile tears and said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well, whatever was to happen has happened but now you do not have to worry any more. I am here for you. I am calling a rickshaw to take you home.â&#x20AC;? Whatever my grand mother longed for, this middle-aged Brahman was prepared to deliver so she fully trusted him and agreed to return home with him. The pundit made a signal to a nearby rickshaw operator who was eagerly waiting for him. They sat in it and left the busy festival ground to a destination unknown.

My grand mother was eager to reach home but instead she arrived at a Coolie Depot and then she realised that this fake pundit was an agent (Arkathi) to recruit workers for the Indenture System. She cursed herself for trusting him but it was too late now. She was a prisoner in this Coolie Depot from where it was impossible to escape. There were various other unfortunate souls sitting and cursing their fates there and were unsure of their future. The next day all the recruits appeared before the resident magistrate to register themselves as slaves to work in a foreign land. After the registration for girmit they were put on a cargo train bound for the port of Calcutta. When my grand mother reached the Depot in Calcutta she could not 14

believe her eyes when she witnessed the dilapidated nature of the place. Her worry and sadness multiplied manifolds but she could not do anything else but cry. The late Sir Henry Cotton in his report to the British Parliament writes this on Girmit Recruitment Procedure: In too many instances the subordinate recruiting agents resort to criminal means inducing these victims by misrepresentation or by threats to accompany them to a contractorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s depot or railway station where they are spirited away before their absence has been noticed by their friends and relatives. The records of the criminal courts teem with instances of fraud, abduction of married women and young persons, wrongful confinement, 15

intimidation and actual violence- in fact a tale of crime and outrage which would arouse a storm of public indignation in any civilized country. In India the facts are left to be recorded without notice by a few officials and missionaries. The new recruits suffered great injustice at the hands of the clerks and agents at the depot. Men and women were forced into small rooms like animals. Men and women were compelled and forced to get into pairs and then they were declared wife and husband. Those that did not agree were locked together and the men were instructed to make the women agree. Those who failed to come out as pairs were punished severely. This pairing that turned into illegitimate marriage gave the agents 16

publicity that the indenture system was conducted with the consent and willingness of wife and husband. This was far from the truth. In most cases the forced pairing led to social disaster and in some it turned out to be a blessing for the recruits because they could share their sorrows and grief. It was in this Calcutta Coolie Depot that my grand mother met my grand father. My grandmaâ&#x20AC;&#x;s case was a sad one. She worried a lot about her future and the forced pairing so she decided to choose my grand father as her husband because he was from the same district (Basti) and he was strong and handsome. That was the beginning of their family life and the authorities registered their marriage. At least this staying together and the 17

possibility of being able to share their pains, aches, friendship and difficulties made them feel a little better and bring some happiness in the wilderness. C F Andrews wrote this in his report that those who were all chaste and honourable women became mixed up almost from the first day with the other class. How many of them remained chaste, even upto the voyage, it was impossible to say.

My grand father was Sarju who was born in Dumariaganj in Basti Uttar 18

Pradesh in India. His father Shankar had a farm where he grew mangoes and other fruits but since there were four other brothers in the family my grand father at the age of fourteen was asked to work for a landlord in the next village of Senduri at almost no pay but only keeps. One day my grand father was caught putting a few ripe mangoes in his bag to take home so he was branded a thief. This stigma became unbearable for a growing and honest young man of fourteen. He knew he would be ridiculed if he went home so he left this landlord in search of other jobs elsewhere. He walked a long distance in search of work, which was not that easy to find. He reached Kashipur but he had not even reached the town when he

was spotted by a cunning recruiting agent (arkathi). After noticing the predicament my grand father was in, the recruiting agent took advantage of the situation. He started a friendly conversation with my grand father, which went somewhat like this: “How are you my friend? Are you looking for work?” asked the agent. “What kind of work sir, and what would I get as wages?” my grand father wanted to know. “Well, my friend, this is not work at all,” the cunning agent said in order to trap my grand father. “In fact, you are indeed lucky and certainly you are destined to becoming very rich and famous 20

soon. There is a beautiful island off the coast of Calcutta known as the Ramneek Dweep or the paradise in the Pacific. A very rich landlord resides there and he needs the services of a security guard to look after his home and the farm. You will get full uniform, food ration and a farmhouse to live in. You will only work for twelve hours a day with a gun hanging across your shoulder marching up and down the entire property. You cannot find such a lucrative job anywhere here because you will just enjoy your daily tasks and even earn money. What else do you want?â&#x20AC;? My grand father felt very good and began imagining himself as a security guard with a gun hanging across his shoulder marching up and 21

down the property in the day and enjoying life in his farmhouse at night. This sounded like heaven to him. He began to dream about his future life full of fun. He was not prepared to hear any more but to sincerely thank the agent and agreed to travel immediately. The agent felt good to trap another recruit. Seeing that my grand father was tired and hungry the agent took him to a nearby eating-house and fed to his hearts content. Then they got into a rickshaw to start their journey to the dreamland. But when they reached the coolie depot my grand fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x;s hopes were shattered and he felt disappointed with himself for believing such stories of the agent and falling into his trap. When my grand father saw the crowd of people he regretted his 22

every move. He too joined the other unfortunate victims in the depot to hang his head down and cry. He too felt like an animal in a strong cage unable to find its way out. He began thinking that his village was much better place to live a free life than this dungeon. He was told by some recruits that he will be in Fiji where he would work long hours on sugarcane farms owned by white men. He will have to sweat from head to tail twenty-four hours a day and tolerate the harsh treatments of the field officers. He was not able to imagine the reality of the situation then but when in Fiji he told me all. There was nothing he could do to get out of this depot because of very tight security there. At last one day he too was presented to the office of the magistrate who asked him only 23

one question, “Do you agree to go to this island to work as a labourer?” “Yes sir!” answered my grand father as the recruiting agent had instructed him. Thus his five-year contract (girmit) was signed and sealed. He was a slave. Similar fate awaited thousands of others who were waiting to get on board a cargo ship Sangola Number 1 in 1906. There were women, children and men. Everyone‟s heart was filled with pain and sorrow and the eyes were wet with tears. Some were sobbing for their relatives and family members, others missed their parents, and yet there were others who lamented the loss of their motherland. My grand father

described that inhumane coolie depot as the hell on this earth. The Clerk of the Court in a communication admitted that it was perfectly true that terms of the contract did not explain to the coolie the fact that if he or she did not carry out his or her contract or for other offences, like refusing to go to hospital when ill or breach of discipline, he or she was to incur imprisonment or fine. According to Richard Piper, Indians in India believed in very strict caste system but all caste restrictions were ignored as soon as an immigrant entered the depot. For the poor unfortunate who happened to have some pride of birth, there was a bitter but unavailing struggle to retain their self-respect which generally ended in a fatalistic 25

acquiescence to all the immorality and obscenity of the coolie lines. The immigrants were allowed to herd together with no privacy or isolation for married people. My grand father and grand mother both admitted that no one who survived at the end of the journey could distantly have faith in the caste system. They were all simple human beings and to call himself or herself Brahmans, Chatriyas, Vaishyas or Sudras or even Hindu or Muslim was foolish to say the least. Sarju and Gangadei were two of those unfortunate souls who fell victim to the Indenture System of 1879 onwards. Indians lived in poverty but they were subsistence farmers enjoying their lives with their respective families and so were

Sarju and Gangadei who were just healthy adolescents. The late Sir Henry Cotton explained that the recruiter or arkathi lay in wait for wives who had quarrelled with their husbands, young people who had left their homes in search of adventure and insolvent peasants escaping from their creditors. When one form of slavery was abolished in the western world then another kind of deeper slavery began from the Indian Continent. This was called Girmit or the Indenture System. The dreadful life of the recruits and the atrocious treatment they got from the overseers was inhumane and cruel. Rev Andrews mentioned in his book that before they had been out at sea for two days in the stormy weather a 27

few of the poor coolies were missing. They either committed suicide or hid themselves in the hold. They were dragged by the officers and kept alive but they too lost their battle with life. Upon entering the depot my grandparents were issued with two thin blankets and a few eating utensils made from tin. At dinner time all the recruits were made to sit on the ground in a line and served dhal and rice. Some hungry recruits were frantically eating but there were others who were submerged in deep thoughts about their losses of religion, family members and national pride. My grand father sat there quietly for a while because he could not collect enough courage to eat such food in such a situation. The clerks advised 28

him that it was no use worrying about petty religious, social and family matters any more. Life for him had changed and he had to accept it. There was no return to their usual families. This was a hard fact of the system. He prayed hard. â&#x20AC;&#x17E;O Lord I give you my heart and soul; assist me in my agony; may I handover all my future into your safe and powerful hands.â&#x20AC;&#x; Twamewa Mata ch Pita Twamewa Twamewa bandhushch Sakha Twamewa Twamewa Vidya Dravinam Twamewa Twamewa Sarva Mum Dev dev

Whether his prayers were heard or not but time and days kept moving. They do not stop for anyone or any event. The recruits were loaded on the cargo ships and were allocated a small place on the deck that was dirty and wet. The mood, condition 29

and situation on the ship were so drastic that the recruits began to feel ill. Some kept vomiting for a long time and those that could not tolerate the unhealthy and un-socialised circumstances jumped into the sea to end their ordeal. The recruits suffered for days and could not eat the poorly cooked khichdhi that was dished to them daily. If the weather became bad and the food could not be cooked they were given dog biscuits. The recruits had to suffer the heat, rain and cold on the deck. The journey was long and dangerous. Many of the human cargo lost their lives through hunger, torture and suicide because they could not bear the cruelty and suffering onboard the ships. However, both Sarju and Gangadei survived the atrocities and 30

were united as a family unit to work on the sugarcane farms in Matutu in Sigatoka. Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya said that the condition under which the labourers lived on board the cargo ships were not good at all. There was not enough care for the modesty of the women, and all castes and religious rules were being broken and it was no wonder that many committed suicide or else threw themselves into the sea. The sea journey of the coolies lasted a few months and at last the boat anchored near a small island in the Fiji Group in November 1906. This was Nukulau, a quarantine station. It was here that the recruits were washed with phenyl and examined to give them certificate of fitness so 31

that they could be auctioned. My grandparents were bought by the Colonial Sugar Refining Company based in Sigatoka and were transported to Matutu where they were given eight feet by eight feet grass huts that were not fit for human inhabitation but there was no other choice. These huts had wet and hard floor and a few blankets were allocated to them. Their first ration of rice, dhal, sharps, salt and oil was also handed to them. If they completed their daily tasks well for a month then they were paid ten shillings for that month. My grandparents recalled that the white men who were called Kulumber or Sirdar allocated daily tasks to the workers or girmitiyas and if any weaker person was not 32

able to complete the tasks satisfactorily they were beaten with whips, fists, kicks and sticks. They had to tolerate all the injustice because there was no place or institution to register their complaints. Despite the fact that my grand parents were both strong and good farmers and managed to complete their daily tasks well, initially they too suffered a lot of beating and injustice at the hands of the white men. However, one day towards the second month when the Sirdar was abusing my grand mother, my grand father could not tolerate it any more because enough was enough for him. He was using a long handled hoe to complete his task and used this to beat the hell out of the white man. This kind of self-defence happened a 33

few times and then both my grand parents were free from any violent attacks but the verbal abuses never ended. My grand father encouraged other workers or girmitiyas to stand up for their self-defence but only a few could do this to protect their selfrespect. One of them was Tularam who converted to Islam and became Rahamtulla. He was my grand fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x;s jahaji bhai or ship mate and established himself as a farmer in Botini later. Instances of such deep friendship were many in those days of the indenture system and these lasted for the life time of the workers. The friends could stand for each other in times of hardship and any other difficulties.

On the CSR plantation they were made to work hard, for long hours and suffered cruelty and abuses of the sector officials if they made the slightest of mistakes. Like many other workers or Girmitiyas they too were whipped, kicked and beaten by the Sector Officers. There was no one to hear their complaints and thus they could only blame and curse their ill fate and they could do nothing to escape these hardships. Whilst in Matutu my grand parents had many good friends and one of them was Rambadan Maharaj who after his girmit became a shopkeeper. The two families interacted with each other long after my grand parents moved from Matutu to Botini. The families despite their difficulties met regularly to continue with their 35

cultural activities. My grand father with the assistance of Rambadan Maharaj had developed a great love for the Hindu Epic Ramayan. He could recite the couplets of Tulsidas from memory and explain the meaning to his friends. My grand parents completed two difficult and deceitful contracts of five years each and gained their freedom from bondage in 1916. This freedom from slavery was a lot sweeter than the sugarcane. Their happiness was so great that it outweighed the sorrows and sufferings of their indenture. By 1916 the Indenture System had stopped but my grand parents continued to grow sugarcane and other crops in Matutu until 1928 and then moved to Botini in 1929. Their

first son Hiralal was born at the end of the indenture system. My father Bhagauti Prasad was born in Matutu, Sigatoka in Fiji on 27th June 1918 and my mother Ram Kumari was born in Nabila in Sigatoka Fiji, on 24th July 1924. They got married in 1936 and lived happily in Matutu for a while and then shifted to Botini when the Second World War began. They were one of the fortunate ones when as a result of their loyalty and hardwork they were rewarded by the CSR Company with a lease for a large piece of land in Matutu and in Botini in Sabeto to continue sugarcane farming. They had to cater for their family of three sons and five daughters by then and despite the option to return to India they chose to sign further contracts to supply 37

their own sugarcane from their farms to the company. There were valid reasons not to return to India at that time. Firstly, they did not have any contacts and did not know if their family members were still there in the same village. Then there was this fear that they might not be accepted in the community because they would be regarded as outcasts. Of course, although one way passage on a ship was provided, they did not have any other needed financial means to travel and settle in India. However, my grand father went back to India to pay respect to his birth place in 1952 but had to return to Fiji to continue his family life because very few of his family members could be located in Basti by then. Frequent hurricanes, floods and 38

internal infrastructure developments in India had dismantled and disintegrated the family. This was another price that the girmitiyas had to pay and the loss of their root was unbearable. My grand father then put his eldest son Hiralal on one of the three farms in Botini and managed the other two himself with his other children. His second son Bhagauti Prasad managed the farm in Matutu until the farm was sold to Rambadan Maharaj when the world war two started. His second son Bhagauti Prasad who had got married to Ram Kumari daughter of Bali Hari from a nearby village called Nabila, joined his father Sarju to manage the farms in Botini later.

World War two had just begun. Soldiers from various countries began to arrive in the country. Camps soon got established in strategic places in the main island and the army personnel began patrolling the areas on foot and on various types of vehicles. They were there to keep peace but they were definitely disturbing the peace of the village people. Inhabitants of the small village were all cane farmers who were brought from India as indentured labourers by the Colonial Sugar Refining Company. After completing their hard earned indentured contract of five or ten years they were free to settle as cane farmers or return to their motherland India. Many chose to settle in this village on land allocated by the CSR 40

Company. They had to enter into another one-sided contract to keep supplying sugarcane at stipulated price to the mills owned by the Company. A monopolistic situation gave no other choice to the poor farmers. On many occasions upon supplying tons of sugarcane to the mills the farmers were told that they can not be paid because their product was dirty and it would cost the company more to clean the mills than to pay the farmers their share. The farmers had no alternative but to accept this wrong and sinful decision. There were no organizations of farmers to give them legal assistance until early 1950s. In order to subsist they had to do some mixed cropping. CRS Company believed that they were doing the farmers a lot of 41

favours because they had used recruiters to enrol them from various cities and villages of India, which in those days, like Fiji, was also a British Colony. They emancipated the labourers from stark poverty in India and resettled them in Fiji to prosper. The village of Botini in Sabeto valley was the salad bowl of the country where farmers boasted growing best vegetables and other crops. Surrounded by the mountain range known as the Sleeping Giant or Mount Evans and the winding Sabeto river the villagers had great prosperity at their feet at all times. Naturally they lived in good homes and had all the conveniences. The farmers worked very hard and lived in a united community that soon had their own educational and religious 42

institutions for the development of their children. It is in this background that my father Bhagauti Prasad, the second son of Sarju, having worked on the joint farms for several years began to do farm work on his own piece of land that was allocated to him by his father, my grand father Sarju. This new venture began in 1949. He was married with four children by then and the family lived at this new location until 1983 when they sold the property and moved to Nasinu near Suva. They had two sons and two daughters at that time: Ramlakhan, Vidyawati, Vijendra and Shiumati. Other five daughters were born later. So a family of eleven members enjoyed their family life working hard on their farm and living a happy 43

life. Sarju Mahajan and Gangadei kept a watchful eye and kept blessing them to move on with their life as best as they could.

Bhagauti Prasad My Father

Ram Kumari My Mother

Episode Two

The Prasad Family of Sabeto In the first episode of this eventful story of my roots I managed to present the plight of my grand parents who had come to Fiji under the indenture system and established themselves as successful farmers in a place called Botini in Sabeto. In this section we keep moving ahead. This part will focus on my parentsBhagauti Prasad, my father and Ram Kumari, my mother and this will show how I am linked to this historical development. My grandfather Sarju Mahajan was a person who believed in the four eternal truths of life and used to say that there was sorrow in Life; there

was a reason for all sorrow; that that sorrow would definitely end and that there was a way to end that sorrow. He died in 1966 at the age of ninety but when he was living he used to ask me in the evenings to read and recite the holy books to him. He would listen intently and correct my pronunciations and other mistakes. Thus, through these readings and recital of episodes he instilled a love of reading and religion in me.

Sarju Mahajan, my grand father

My grandparents retired from all farming activities in 19 60 . By this

time they had developed a wealthy life and left the last farm to my uncle Chetram. My grandfather then devoted most of his time in charity work helping religious organizations and schools. From ordinary Sarju my grandfather was known as Sarju Mahajan by then. My grandfather was a generous man all his life and became a money lender to help people who needed funds to build their houses and buy necessary commodities for their farms. He did not charge any interest but people paid him in kind when they returned his money to him. He lived a happy life until 1975 and passed away at the age of 83. My grandmother lived for another few years and left this world in 1979 at the age of 85. They had contributed

immensely for the family, friends, relatives and the community. Like Balmiki, the original writer of the epic Ramayan, my father, Bhagauti Prasad also became a reformist when he was told of the five precepts of life. He agreed to abstain from killing, stealing, adultery, lying and liquor. Jaan aadikavi naam pratapa bhayea sidha Kari ulta jaapa. (Ramayana Chaupayee) Bhagauti Prasad's father was Sarju Mahajan who had come with his wife Gangadei from Basti in UP India in 1907 as an indentured labourer to work for the Colonial Sugar Refining Company of Australia. Ram Kumariâ&#x20AC;&#x;s father was Bali Hari but my motherâ&#x20AC;&#x;s mother

Shiu Pali died when my mother was born. My mother was brought up by her step mother, Dukia. Very little is known about my maternal grandmother but her father Shiubaran, who was from a village in Calcutta, died in Nabila during the great flood and epidemic in 1926. Despite his many shortcomings my father tried to lead an eight-fold path by being of right understanding, thought, speech, actions, livelihood, effort, mindfulness and concentration. By bringing about so much of transformation in his life he led the family through a lot of troubles to a peaceful and fruitful end. He too died on April 12 1988 at the age of about 70. He was diabetic and had a 49

heart arrest because of diabetic coma after a very short illness in Suva hospital. When I visited him in the hospital the day of his death on April 12 at midday he had asked me for five things. Firstly, he said I should recite a few slokas from Geeta or Ramayana, our Holy books. I recited this slok for him and he listen to it very carefully and even explained the meaning to me. Yada yada hi dharmasye glanirbhauti bharat Abhyukthanamdharmasye tadatmanam srajamehyam

Paritranaaye saadhoona vinaashaaye ch dushkritaam Dharmsansthapanarthaye sambhawaami yuge yuge

Secondly, he said that life was very short and it was very important for the head of the family to try to keep everyone happy and peaceful through good guidance and strong bond of love and affection. He said he was able to perform this task well and he wanted me to do the same. Thirdly, he asked me not to perform any unnecessary cultural and religious rituals after his death but to cremate him and throw his ashes into

the sea. He said that antim sanskaar was the final ceremony that you do for the dead body at the cemetery and there should be no other religious rites after that because while the dead body has been turned into ashes the soul has migrated to the realm of heaven to be either reincarnated or resting in peace forever. Then he said that he was very sorry if he failed as a father to develop and guide his nine children in the right direction. He said he had done his best but he wanted every one of his children to ensure that their children were developed with good parenting and excellent education. However, he was happy that he had thoroughly reformed himself after some wrong doings of the early days and had shown his children the right 52

path of life. He truly repented his misdeeds and had never forgiven himself for his poor role model. This he said was his praayschit. Lastly, he said that it was my duty to look after my mother after his death even if she was to create problems for me. She needed to be tolerated because she was an illiterate person. This was the premonition of his death because that afternoon when I was travelling back to my Nadi home I got a message that he had passed away. I was happy that I was able to spend the last hour with him. He taught us to give charity to the deserving, observe the precepts of morality, cultivate and develop good thoughts, render service and attend on others, honor and nurse parents 53

and elders, give a share of your merits to others, accept the merits that others give you, hear the doctrine of righteousness and rectify your faults. He said that every human being was equal and must be treated as per the work they do. He did not believe in any sects or caste systems. He gave me the three Ds of his family life: daya, daan and daman - kindness, charity and control. I am truly proud of my father who taught me a lot of things about life and living .The three warnings that he gave me are still fresh in my mind. Firstly, he said that we all are subject to decay or destruction and we cannot escape old age, condition of being frail and bent down. But we should try to lead a healthy life

through balanced diet and reasonable exercise. Secondly, he said that we all are subject to disease, and we cannot escape sickness. While living we should be thoughtful of others, be kind and considerate. Avoiding poor eating habits and doing a bit of yoga always helped us to be free from illness. Thirdly, he said that we all are subject to death and we cannot escape from dying. Death is certain for us but living should be rewarding. If that was our understanding then what reason is there for us to hate each other and create enmity? Love and friendship were the cornerstone of human living, he assured me.

He wanted us to wake up to our responsibilities and be freed from all fears. He said life was too short to get bogged down in petty things so we must perform well to be loved, remembered and honored as parents. I also tried my best to bring up four of my children making it sure that they were well educated, well catered for and lived with a lot of love around them. Of course, as my father never spared a rod for my growing up I too tried my best to discipline my children and I do not regret taking that action. Our mixed farmstead in Botini had a variety of crops like rice, peanuts, pineapples, vegetables, fruits and sugarcane. Working hours for the family members were long and even the children and women had to perform all the tasks. Women took 56

turns to cook for the whole tribe and whoever was not on culinary duties had to work in the field. The thing that added more happiness to the growing up process was the strong social structure of the family. There were many uncles and aunts nearby to baby-sit and the grandparents were always around to look after the baby. My mother had never been to formal school and was illiterate but she was very protective of her family. My father had completed his education up to class six and was a regular but a critical reader of various epics and religious books. He later became the president of various religious bodies in the community and was a very respected leader in the village. Ironically he 57

was addressed as Sardar as were the early sector officers during the indenture system. He retired as a farmer, sold his Botini farm in 1974 and went to live in Nadera in Nasinu near Suva city. As a person my father achieved a lot in his lifetime. He often said that it was a sad thing that we loved ourselves more, and our country and community a lot less. We have tried to make ourselves rich, secure and great, not our country and community. We should always remember to give a lot more of our time, effort and resources to our country and our community. We must ask our nation and our society to forgive us for this selfishness. By giving we receive the richest blessings of the God Almighty.

As the years passed, my eldest uncle Hiralal claimed his share and moved to a nearby farm with his family and began the farm work independently. As explained before, my grandfather, Sarju Mahajan, donated this property to them. Sarju Mahajan had three sons and six daughters. Hiralal, Bhagauti Prasad, Chetram were the sons and Sukhraji, Shiuraji, Dhiraji, Mangali, Mahadei and Ramdei were the daughters. My village of Botini in Sabeto; a village rich in culture, community and control, a place where people lived in harmony and all sorts of cultivation was at its peak, an environment that boasted selfsufficiency at all times. People lacked nothing and enjoyed life to the fullest. Our farm was made up of a thirty-hectare of native 59

lease that had rough terrain but the soil in the valley was very rich and alluvial for any crop to flourish. A small stream of fresh water ran across the property and big trees of na-ivi, coconuts, mangoes, and other fruit trees were growing well along both sides of the stream. Fish of various types and eels swam in that stream and during my childhood I loved fishing there with an old man called Sahadatt, who lived as a hermit in a small thatched house that my father had built for him. He was like a caretaker or a watchman for our farm. He cooked his own meals and many times made me enjoy the good taste of the eel curry that he so tactfully prepared. On our farm of sugarcane, pineapples, rice and mixed vegetables there was always plenty 60

to do and enjoy. The hilltops were overgrown with guava trees that were always laden with fruit for us to pick. Anything that we wanted was on the farm; sugarcane to eat, pineapples to slice, delicious coconuts to drink, mangoes galore, citrus fruits of all kind, pawpaws, melons, cucumbers, rockmelons and many others. That was selfsufficiency at its extreme. It was against this backdrop that my parents were always eager to practise great experiments on their farm and the Agriculture Department of Fiji assisted them with advice and seeds and seedlings of potatoes, citrus fruits and other vegetables. The vegetable section on our farm produced enormous amounts of beans, cabbages, corn, cucumber, melons and similar crops that were delivered to Lautoka and 61

Nadi Markets every Friday on our Ford Six truck. Such were the rural and village luxuries I enjoyed on the farm when I was a primary school child at Sabeto Primary School from 1946 to 1953 and a secondary student at Natabua High School from 1954 to 1957. I worked on the goat and cattle farms as a herdsman and acted as a cowboy on many occasions. I also did a lot of ploughing, planting, weeding, hoeing and harvesting using our pairs of oxen and finely bred farm horses. No work was hard for me and I worked in the vegetable gardens, fruit, and pineapple and sugarcane farms. So much so that my father had to ask me to slow down and concentrate on my schoolwork so I had to divert 62

my energy and move on in this progressive direction. As I mentioned before, my mother never went to school and did not have any reading and writing skills but she had many good human qualities. She was a very powerful woman who controlled her children well. She was an excellent cook and displayed extreme passion and understanding when she interacted with her children. She could not help us with our schoolwork but she guided us to lead a good life. I always had a great admiration for her commitment and empathy. People say I have learnt most of my values from my mother and they may be right because a lot of my social communication style, my general human interaction and my daily conduct come from my 63

mother. I am proud of the fact that despite her illiteracy she was able to do so much for me. I am reminded of the opening line of Ravindranathâ&#x20AC;&#x;s poem: Amma teri mamta ka nahi koi mol. My family members called me Lakhan in those days but my mother called me Badkana, which meant the eldest. My formative years were of average academic standard but I began to excel from Class six onwards and was a role model for many village students. I was always among the top three students at school but my sporting activities were limited to some soccer and hockey games only. I loved sports and athletics but there werenâ&#x20AC;&#x;t many opportunities to participate and compete in those days.

My reading activities were limited to reciting from the Holy BooksRamayana and Bhagwat Gita for my grand parents and parents, the Jungle Book and the New Method Readers. There were no public libraries in those days and the school library had only a limited collection. I did not have the luxury of bedtime story reading. However, whenever we got our supply of bread and other goods from the town shops, the items were wrapped with pages of old newspaper. My father collected these for us to read and at times he tested us by asking us to read the news items aloud to him and explain those in his vernacular language, Hindi. Stale news but it gave me an opportunity to learn about other countries.

While at primary school I participated in a lot of dramatic activities at the local temple where the religious drama activities of Ram Lila, Krishna Lila and Lav Kush Lila were dramatised on stage for the public to enjoy. These were conducted at the hall at nights for weeks and I enjoyed acting the role of Lord Rama. My grand father was the director and my father was the president of the Sanatan Dharam Mandali of Sabeto. After the stage work was over we had our dinner there. We enjoyed the dhal, rice and chatnee prepared so skilfully by my grand father, who was a great cook in times of need. During my school days I used to work on my fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x;s farms of rice, pineapple, sugarcane and lentils and 66

go to the markets with my father to sell the items on Saturdays at the CSR Compound in Lautoka where the market day used to be organised. These were one of the most interesting selling experiences and interactions with the business and other communities and I learnt a lot from these interactions and activities. My father had a lot of regular customers only because his produce was always clean, fresh and well displayed. My father was fundamentally a different type of vendor for the customers because he cared about them and gave them tender loving care and good service. The days when our supplies were more than the demand we were left with some of our produce, which we had to throw in the nearby paddock where the cows enjoyed eating 67

them. My father would not sell them cheaply or give these free to anyone but he was very happy to witness the scene when the cows of Maan Singh Dairy farm munched the vegetables away slowly with interest. This paradigm of circumstances confused me in the beginning but when I understood the ethic behind feeding the animals I could see that as a Hindu my father was doing nothing more than just feeding the sacred cows. Milking of cows and goats was one my favourite past times. Then the rule was to boil your milk and extract the butter fat from the yoghurt the next day using a bamboo extractor in a large fourlitre container.

Of course, it was my duty to get fresh green para and guinea grass for my cows and goats in order that they continued to provide us with a lot of fresh milk. These were difficult chores but interesting and soothing to my soul. One of the ideas that got ingrained into me after my father constantly and continuously motivated me was the concept of hard and quality work so whatever I did, I did it well and with all my interest. There was no farming activity that I could not perform but while doing those I never faltered in my studies. My commitment to all my tasks was very solid and deep. It was through these quintessential paths that my grandparents and parents built for me, that I found my upward mobility easy and smooth. 69

My grandparents and parents were poor in the beginning but that was no excuse for their inadequacies. As the transformation of circumstances developed, they learnt to persevere and cleared the slippery rung of their ladder of progress through hard work and determination. I shared the same anxiety, ambitions and adaptations to move ahead with pride. It was examination time at school and I had to study hard so I carried my notebooks with me when I was grazing my cattle in the field. I was so engrossed in my studies that I forgot to keep an eye on the animals, which wondered onto a nearby vegetable area and destroyed a lot of our seedlings and crops. My father was furious to see the destruction and I remember getting 70

the brunt of his full anger when he used his whip on me instead of the animals. I regretted this but never again did I falter in my farming duties and chores that were allocated to me. The paradox of this event is that you have to be cruel to be kind. My father was a disciplinarian and always wanted his children to do the right thing and do well in every human activity. He loved his children very much and would do anything to keep them happy. He wanted me to be someone to remember because I was the eldest. His happiness was beyond his control when he learnt that I was going to be a teacher. He was overwhelmed to hear that news because that was his objective. It turned out that I was his only child 71

out of the nine that had developed a profession. Later in life he told me that he was very happy that I had achieved good results in life and met his expectations. In those days as a reward for good work for the whole month I was allowed to accompany some of my friends to Nadi town to see Hindi movies in the old wooden theatre of Harry Uraia. We used to travel by bus but later the open-air theatre came to our village and they used to screen the Hindi movies at the temple grounds and we used to enjoy the Saturday evening programs. My father was one of the first persons in Sabeto to have a radio that needed a wet-celled battery to run and the battery needed to be regularly charged at a charger that 72

was located about five miles away from our house. I used to carry the battery on my shoulder to have it charged and then bring it back. In this process the battery water on many occasions spoilt my clothes but the enthusiasm and anticipation to listen to the one fifteen minute Hindi program on Tuesday and an hour‟s evening Hindi program on Saturday kept me going to the charger and back. The radio station was called ZJB and the announcer and presenter of programs was Chandrika Prasad Sriwastow who had a wonderful radio voice. The program was largely made up of news items but if time permitted we were lucky to get a few old songs such as „bachpan ki mohabbat ko dil se na bhula dena’.

During this period of my adolescent development I was working very hard with my father on the farms to learn all the necessary tricks and traits of planting rice and vegetable and rearing goats and other animals. Since my mind, body and soul were all busy concentrating either on the farm or on schoolwork I had very little time to develop any serious hobbies of my own but I did manage to go swimming in the Sabeto River and learn some wrestling skills from my father. I began driving the family Ferguson Tractor and the Ford Six truck from the age of twelve when I was in Class eight. It never occurred to anyone that these were dangerous and unlawful activities.

By 1952 my parents were wellestablished farmers and began to pay more attention to my education and my progress improved considerably. My other brother and other sisters were at school as well but I was the centre of attraction all because I was the eldest and I used to bring good school reports home. This put me in a hyper drive to accelerate my efforts at school. My father told me that the world out there was becoming dangerous and complex everyday and one has to get ready to face it head on. World War Two had begun. Sounds of guns, dynamites and other ammunitions were frequenting the atmosphere. Nights were darker because of the curfews imposed but sometimes the searchlights would beam in the sky 75

to spot the flying objects. My father was very fond of helping the soldiers and the infantry and he grew a lot of vegetables and fruits to sell these to them. He joined the soldiers as a volunteer and enjoyed his service until 1944. These are some of my early dismal recollections of 1940s. My parents were blessed with the firm upbringing practices of my grandparents and that is one of the reasons for their continued success. Like my grandfather, my father was also regarded as a leader of the extended family and whenever there were any disputes within the families of his sisters he was there to conduct reconciliation and peace for them. All my cousins respected my father and would behave exactly as they were told. 76

It was during the wartime that my father was involved with the soldiers in supplying them with drinks, fruits and vegetable in exchange for arms and ammunitions. He had developed an arsenal of his own and when the soldiers had gone he with his friends used to play with these "toys" in and around the village at nights. Another secret of progress for my grandparents and my father was selfanalysis. My father admitted that introspection was a mirror in which to see recesses of your mind that otherwise would remain hidden from you. You must diagnose your failures and sort out your good and bad tendencies. You must analyze what you are, what you wish to become, and what shortcomings are impeding you. 77

Decide the nature of your true task that is your mission in life. From his conclusions I gathered that I must endeavor to make myself what I should be and what I want to be. Your success in life does not altogether depend on ability and training alone he used to say; it also depends on your determination to grasp opportunities that are presented to you. Opportunities in life come by creation, not by chance. My grandparents and my father for all their progress and reformation created opportunities. They used the available outward means as well as the natural abilities to overcome every obstacle in their paths. Today I am happy that I have been able to raise four intelligent children who are special to my family. Like 78

our grandparents and parents we have always believed that our children are the greatest assets for us and whatever they do in their own lives would please us as long as they conducted themselves decently and humanely. It is important that they pass on the cultural and socio economic knowledge and learning to their children in turn. This would make us very happy and fully satisfied. I always wanted success without measure, not from earthly sources but from Godâ&#x20AC;&#x;s all-possessing, allpowerful and all-bountiful hands. I am proud that God has given me all that I needed in life because I believed in Him. I am not religious but I believe in the Supreme Powers of the Almighty God. Like my grandparents and 79

parents I am not conducting any religious ceremonies that make no sense to me. I believe that you demonstrate success or failure according to your habitual trend of thoughts. If your mind is ordinarily in a negative state, an occasional positive thought is not sufficient to attract success. But if you, like my ancestors did, think rightly, you will definitely find your goal even though you seem to be enveloped in darkness. My ancestors alone were largely responsible for all their progress and development and no organization was there to help them along. Through their karma and impulsive actions they managed to look after their large family. I learnt from my ancestors that there were always two forces warring against each other within us. One 80

force tells us to do the things we should not do; and the other urges us to do the things we should do. Our „should do‟ things are always difficult and „shouldn‟t do‟ things are easy. I was confused as a young man and my one voice led me to evil, and the other took me to good. However, with the right guidance of my ancestors, I soon got out of evil world and entered the world of goodness. These were the first twenty-four years of my life and I dedicate these good years to the healthy interaction with my grand parents, my parents and my family members and friends. In these beautiful years of my growing up I was given a firm foundation to move ahead with faith, hope and freedom.

I was a role model for many in the village and to my only brother Vijendra Prasad and seven sisters, Vidya Wati, Shiu Mati, Kushma Wati, Upma Devi, Suman Lata, and Sarla Devi. They too enriched my life through their healthy interactions. My teachers contributed a lot through their motivational pursuits and excellent guidance and I owe them a lot. What I am today is the direct result of good family life education, excellent primary education at Sabeto Primary School and a balanced educational development at Natabua High School. My initial professional preparation at Nasinu Teachersâ&#x20AC;&#x; College was very good foundation to proceed in the pursuit of excellence in all 82

fields. One of my mentors of the training days was a person called John L Stevens, who in many respects guided me and provided me with excellent opportunities to further my teaching career. Our success is therefore measured by the yardstick of happiness and by our ability to remain in peaceful harmony with everyone and everything and not by the worldly standards of wealth, prestige and power. We had enough money always but we considered ourselves only humble middle class family. We have had everything that we wanted in life and this total fulfillment in our family life is the result of our upbringing. I thank my ancestors and my many mentors.

All our progress and development are closely related to our roots and the way we were raised and motivated by our grand parents and parents. They instilled a love of honest living and disciplined life. We have enjoyed our life both in Fiji and in Brisbane despite some early difficulties of new migration. We know our future is bright and promising because we were given a very firm foundation by our family members. We lead a happy life with four children with their spouses and eight grand children around us. We have a closely-knit family and share the joys and happiness of life to the fullest. What else do we need? We have achieved everything in life and are fully satisfied.

My grandparents and parents always wanted our family to be happy, prosperous and peaceful at all times so that we can keep the name and fame of our grand parents and parents high. We had a lot of faith in God and that had paid us well in our living. We have visited India a few times in search of our roots there but have not been very successful because in a century of living in Basti things have changed a lot due to floods, hurricanes and infrastructural development. We have not given up our hope of finding our roots and are continuing with our efforts to find our roots and are confident that one day we will be able to meet members of my grand parents' family in Dumariaganj, in the village of 85

Senduri, in the district of Basti in Uttar Pradesh of India. My grand father, who came from India with nothing but hope and confidence in 1906, progressed well and gave us the motivation to move ahead. With the help of his family he became one of the richest farmers in Botini through sheer hard work and diligence. He was always proud of his progress. He was a religious man of his own free will and belief, very well respected in the village and had a very large family to support. His greatest goal was to help the poor and have a respectable family and he achieved both these aims very well. I know that my grand parents, my parents and we have done our best 86

as immigrants to serve various communities and countries. We have many friends, family members and relatives to emulate our successes and developments. These were our root, our boot and out toot. I salute my grandparents and parents for their determination, dedication, diligence and complete devotion as early discovers to define and develop their own destiny and provide us the right motivation and opportunity to keep moving ahead.

This is the end of my narration but the history continues.

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