For a few days, we lived in a condominium in the Pinnacle Hills area of a small town called Rogers in the state of Arkansas, USA. Not far from our residence was a Walmart, which was said to be the first store of Walmart’s founder, Sam Walton. We had decided to visit that historic Walmart in Rogers on Sunday morning, a holiday. But it started snowing from Saturday midnight, and about three inches of snow had accumulated and frozen on the area’s roads. Consequently, on Sunday morning, instead of venturing out in the adverse weather, I sat in front of the computer and fiddled with the mouse. While looking for something about the moon on Google, ‘Fox TV and the Apollo Moon Hoax’ flashed on the computer screen. Focusing on it gave my mind a huge jolt. Oh my, if this is true, what a disaster! Had America fooled the people of the world by resorting to such a big lie?
What appeared on the computer screen was this: on Thursday, February 15, 2001, a program from the Fox TV Network was broadcast on American television for the information of the world. It stated that the event of astronauts landing on the lunar surface during the Apollo mission was false. In 1969, NASA did not have the technology and equipment for a manned lunar landing. America, engaged in a cold war with Soviet Russia, staged the drama of a manned lunar landing through NASA to assert its influence before the world. The entire event was staged and filmed in the Nevada desert.
After reading this much, my eyes didn’t want to go on. My mind was in turmoil. Old memories came rushing back. In our days of defying constraints, the story of Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin’s landing on the moon created a worldwide sensation. At that time, without judging our own knowledge and understanding, we had propagated the story of that unprecedented scientific achievement with so much conviction to the hardworking people in villages, towns, and labor colonies. Those past events flash across the screen of my memory.
I and Sujan are walking along the labor line in the Barthal tea garden. This side path is convenient for us to get to Sameer-da’s house. There is no possibility of meeting people of different classes on the road, and the walking distance is also less.
As evening approaches and darkness descends, we leave our shelter. It gets dark all around. We walk, guided by the faint, flickering light of kerosene lamps in the shacks of the workers’ settlement. Meanwhile, in the clear, cloudless evening sky, a galaxy of twinkling stars slowly gathers. A gentle breeze from a shiuli tree adjacent to the labor line brings a sweet fragrance.
“Ah, what a beautiful smell of shiuli flowers!” Sujan says, taking a deep breath. As I hear Sujan’s words, I too notice the fragrance of shiuli flowers.
A secret meeting was supposed to be held during the day with the militant worker Birua Tanti and his followers from the Barthal tea garden. But it didn’t happen. The whole day was spent just sitting around. And at the end of this fruitless day, with a joyless mind, Sujan and I walk side by side along the footpath in the labor line, heading from Barthal towards Thailu. On the way, the fragrance of shiuli flowers carried by the wind unexpectedly and suddenly touches our joyless minds with a touch of amusement.
At this time, there is a message of arrival in the light, the air, the sun, and the sky. In a few days, it will be the Sharadiya Durga Puja. The tea garden coolies are abuzz with talk about the bonus. The tug-of-war between the workers and the management over the demand for a bonus is at its peak.
In all the gardens of the Barak Valley, the influence of the INTUC’s labor union is the strongest.
In fact, apart from the Congress-led Cachar Cha Shramik Union, there is almost no organization of any other political party. However, even though there is no organization of the opposition political party, there are more or less disgruntled workers in almost all the gardens within the Cachar Cha Shramik Union. And our visit to Barthal was for a secret meeting with the disgruntled worker Birua Tanti. But Birua Tanti has become so entangled in the bonus issue with the union babu and the management that there is no time for a secret meeting with him at this time. Inevitably, we have to pack up from Barthal and set off for Thailu.
I couldn’t understand if we would achieve anything by going to Thailu either. I have heard that the garden panchayat, Binu Kalindi, is also suffering from bonus fever. However, even if we can’t have a secret meeting with him, we will have no problem with our meals for two or three days and spending the night. We can stay safely at Sameer-da’s house. Even if Auntie doesn’t like us neglecting our studies and hiding in the workers’ quarters, she will not find any fault with our food and lodging arrangements at her house. With this in mind, we started our journey from Barthal to Thailu.
Walking, we cross the labor line and walk through the garden’s nursery. As we go, Sujan says, “It’s good that Sameer-da didn’t come with us.” As Sujan’s words hit my ears, without thinking, I say, “Why? What would have been the problem if Sameer-da had come?”
“Auntie would have been angry to see Sameer-da bring us with him. She would have taken him aside and scolded him, asking why he was making us leave home and just roam around the workers’ quarters,” Sujan says in response to my question.
“Nonsense, why would Sameer-da corrupt our minds? I was the one who turned his steering wheel. For so long, he was confined within the circle of revisionists, just practicing the unionism of ‘must accept, must give’. I brought him to our circle. Bhaduda’s political analysis has cleared his head. The thoughts of Mao now act in all his thinking. The Red Book is his constant companion.”
Hearing Sujan’s words, I say all this about Sameer-da in one breath. Hearing my words, Sujan says again, “We know Sameer-da’s position. An outsider can’t know everything. Sameer-da is much older than us. He teaches at a college in the city. We are still listed in the college register for our studies and wander around like vagabonds. So, seeing our intimacy with Sameer-da, an outsider can naturally assume that we are following Sameer-da’s words. Besides, the way we are visiting Sameer-da’s house, Auntie might think that we have become his followers.”
“That is, of course, true,” I agree after hearing Sujan’s detailed explanation.
The greater part of the journey from Barthal to Thailu is covered with bushes and jungle. There are frequent rumors of pedestrians seeing ferocious animals on this road. Even during the day, many do not dare to travel this road alone. A few people walk together in a group.
Sujan is a student of Presidency College, Kolkata. Many students from Presidency College and various educational institutions in West Bengal have plunged into revolutionary politics. The condition of the country is such that the ruling class can no longer exploit the people in the old way. The people also do not want to be exploited in the old way. A revolutionary situation exists in the country. The spark of Naxalbari is about to create a wildfire throughout the country. In such a situation, to confine oneself to the bourgeois education system for a career is tantamount to treason. ‘The more one studies in the bourgeois education system, the more ignorant one becomes.’ Along with many other students, Sujan raised the slogan of breaking down the bourgeois education system, quit his studies at Presidency College, and came here about a month and a half ago. He has plunged into revolutionary work with the intense desire to turn the seventies into a decade of liberation. He has no fear in the work of revolution. His movements are reckless, disregarding the fear of death. Walking with Sujan, my mind also becomes fearless day by day. Walking at night on a deserted, beast-infested path, no sound coming from the bushes ever frightened my mind or made my hair stand on end. We reached Thailu very easily and quickly.
We have to walk a little further to reach Sameer-da’s house. The night is probably in the middle of the dark fortnight. The waning moon has just peeked out in the eastern sky. From a distance, Sameer-da’s house, surrounded by trees, is faintly visible. From the main road, we take a narrow path to the left and soon reach the boundary of the house. In the dim light of the waning moon, we stand in front of the house on the western plot of the courtyard. Sujan stands behind me and knocks on the door. In a short while, the door opens from inside. Holding the lantern high in her left hand, Auntie is surprised to see us and says, “Hey, where have you come from at this time of night?”
Not a word escapes our lips. Auntie moves aside a little and says in an affectionate tone, “Come, come inside.”
Sujan steps into the house. I too follow Sujan and walk straight towards the room allotted for Sameer-da in the house. As I go, the sound of Auntie’s affectionate voice, “Come, come inside,” keeps ringing in my ears, and I feel that there are so many mothers and aunts like Gorky’s mother in our villages and towns.
Within an hour, Auntie prepares food and calls us. We are quite exhausted from the walk and hunger. Hearing Auntie’s call, we quickly come to the kitchen and sit on the spread mats. Auntie serves us plates full of rice, dal, and fried potatoes. Sujan and I sit side by side and eat with great satisfaction. Auntie sits in front and watches us eat. After a short while, she asks us, “Hey, why didn’t Sameer come with you this time?” Hearing Auntie’s question, Sujan and I look at each other. Then Sujan says, “Sameer-da’s college will close for the Puja vacation in three or four days, so he didn’t come now. We came in a hurry because we have an urgent task.”
Auntie has by now guessed to some extent what our urgent task is, even if she doesn’t know it completely. She knows that when we come here, we have to hold secret consultations with the labor panchayat Binu Kalindi and his followers in the labor line at night. She has assumed that this time too we have come for Binu Kalindi’s matter.
There was a fight between Binu Kalindi and the chicken seller Faizul Mian at the last market day. Binu Kalindi came to the market drunk and shouting. He told the chicken seller Faizul Mian to give him a big chicken from his basket. Faizul didn’t pay him any attention, thinking that if he gave a chicken to the drunk Binu Kalindi, there would be trouble with the price later.
Seeing that Faizul was ignoring him, Binu Kalindi got angry. He swayed and pushed Faizul, saying, “Hey, you son of a Bengali, I want to eat your chicken. Take it out, how much does it cost?”
Binu Kalindi’s push could not move Faizul. Faizul stood firm. He stepped back a little and said contemptuously to the unsteady Binu Kalindi, “Hey, go drink some more water. You don’t need to eat chicken. You will go straight to the moon.”
Saying this, Faizul pointed his finger at the large full moon rising in the eastern evening sky. The reason why the chicken seller Faizul Mian pointed his finger at Binu Kalindi and said, “You will go straight to the moon” at that moment was that the moon was then a universally discussed topic in every nook and cranny of the world. On July 16, 1969, the Apollo-11 spacecraft was launched from the Earth’s surface, and on July 21, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin landed on the lunar surface from the orbiting mother ship. After planting the American flag and a victory plaque, walking around, and conducting various experiments, they returned to Earth in the mother ship. On July 24, they landed in a pre-determined area of the Pacific Ocean. This event caused a great stir throughout the world. It was propagated in villages, towns, markets, and in the corners of homes that the day was not far when people would travel to the moon and even establish settlements there.
When Faizul didn’t take out a chicken from his basket and made a sarcastic remark to Binu Kalindi about the universally discussed topic of man landing on the moon, he became furious. He desperately grabbed Faizul and shouted, “You son of a Bengali, if I want to buy a chicken, why would you tell me to go to the moon?” Faizul gave a jerk to get free from the grasp of the intoxicated and unbalanced Binu Kalindi, and with that, Binu Kalindi fell to the ground.
Seeing Binu Kalindi fall to the ground, the nearby garden laborers rushed over. They all went to beat Faizul, accusing him of laying a hand on the garden panchayat. Finally, the commotion stopped with the intervention of the union babu, Bhola Singh. Faizul had to give Binu Kalindi his chosen chicken from the basket for a pittance and on credit. The incident did not end there. Later, it was heard that Faizul was planning to take revenge by gathering his group.
Hearing that the two of us had come on an urgent task without Sameer-da, Auntie thought that the clash between Binu Kalindi and Faizul at the market had forced us to come here at this time. Binu Kalindi and Faizul are both close to us. We don’t want there to be a division among the working people. This strengthens the hands of the reactionaries. It creates a crack in the struggling unity. So, from her own assumption, Auntie brought up the topic of the Binu Kalindi and Faizul episode and finally told us, “Look, son, don’t get too involved in their court.” But we didn’t know anything about this story of Binu Kalindi and Faizul. If this news had reached us while we were in the Barthal labor line, we would not have headed towards Thailu. Our goal is to form a secret cell of militant workers in the tea garden in the ideology of Mao Zedong. If there is no opportunity to start the process of forming a secret cell by holding a secluded meeting with Binu Kalindi and his associates, then there is no point in us staying here. As it is, there is a tug-of-war with the management over the bonus. In this situation, the additional problem that has been created by starting a conflict with Faizul makes it impossible to hold any secret meeting with Binu Kalindi this time. Like Barthal, we will have to return from here without achieving anything.
Thinking all this, I say to Auntie, “No, Auntie, we won’t meddle in their affairs.”
I stop after saying this. Seeing that I am not saying anything more, Sujan speaks up. He says, “Yes, Auntie, we are not in those matters of theirs. We came to Barthal for an urgent task. We thought that since we have come so far, let’s go a little further and see Auntie. We will get to eat good food cooked by Auntie for a couple of meals, and we will also get some rest.”
Auntie is happy to hear what Sujan and I say. With a happy expression, she takes some more rice from the pot and puts it on our plates. We too continue to devour the rice with great satisfaction.
Then Auntie, leaving aside the matter of Binu Kalindi and Faizul, brings up the topic of the moon and says, “But son, I have great doubts about your story of man landing on the moon. I can’t understand at all how a person can go and stand on that round moon. That evening, standing in the courtyard, I looked at the bright moon in the sky for a long time. Even if an airplane or something like that reaches the moon, it is not possible to keep people standing there. They will fall off the moon.”
Hearing Auntie’s words, my eating slows down. I look at Sujan. Sujan also stops eating and looks at me and then at Auntie. The landing of the American astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin on the moon is a world-renowned event. But I can’t figure out how to resolve Auntie’s doubts about their moon landing with a very simple and fluent explanation.
Then, breaking a few minutes of silence, Sujan says, “Auntie, people have landed on the moon, that’s true. The moon is not as small as we see it from Earth. From a great distance in space, our Earth also looks round like the moon. Yet on the surface of the Earth, there are vast expanses with mountains, rivers, seas, and plains. People, animals, nothing is falling off the Earth’s surface. The moon also has a vast expanse. And the astronauts have landed somewhere on the vast expanse of the lunar surface.”
Hearing Sujan’s explanation, Auntie says, “I don’t know, son, I can’t quite understand all your talk.”
I look at Auntie’s face carefully. It seemed that Auntie said, “I don’t know, son, I can’t quite understand all your talk,” to put an end to the topic. In fact, the question of doubt remained in her mind regarding the landing of Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin on the moon.
All these events and Auntie’s suspicious face from the past became vivid on my mental screen after four decades, centered on the subject of ‘Fox TV and the Apollo Moon Hoax’.
As all these events of the past days flood my memory one by one, my mind becomes heavy with a strange feeling. The computer screen in front of me is open. The keyboard and mouse are left as they were. I also sit silently. Suddenly, I regain my senses at the signal of the computer losing power. I slowly take the inactive mouse next to the keyboard under my palm and start the process of shutting down the computer.
After shutting down the computer, I sit for some more time in the lonely room. Thoughts gather again in my lonely mind. How much the country and times have changed in forty long years! The powerful rise of Indira Gandhi, the sun of Asia’s liberation, blunted the revolutionary activities of the youth, students, and working people. The dream of a people’s democratic revolution by forming a people’s liberation army of peasants in India remained unfulfilled. It was not possible to form an advance guard of the revolution secretly with the likes of Birua Tanti and Binu Kalindi. Sujan returned to Kolkata. Sameer-da got married and settled down, not only that, Sameer-da’s children have grown up. His son is doing research on a subject in agricultural science in Slovakia. His daughter is also studying at a university in Germany. Both children went abroad on scholarships from the Government of India. Auntie, of course, could not live to know this news about her grandchildren. She passed away about five years ago.
How many changes in world politics too! The first harbinger of the establishment of the dictatorship of the proletariat, Soviet Russia, has been shattered. True communist China is admired in imperialist America. All the necessary items for daily life made in China are meeting the demands of customers in American shopping malls.
The American administration is no longer in a hurry to send people to the moon. Thousands of people in that country have lost everything in the financial crisis and are spending their days under the open sky on the seashore.
All these thoughts churn in my lonely mind while sitting in the secluded room. I lose my train of thought trying to decide whether the statement broadcast on the Fox TV network is right or wrong. Like Thailu’s aunt, the words come out of my mouth, “I don’t know, son, I can’t understand everything.”