Mansur Ali has spent his life in a
border enclave in Cooch Behar. Avijit Ghosh meets the 77-year-old who says he
is going to feel like 18 when he gets inked on May 5
Mohammad Mansur Ali Miah has spent his entire life in Poaturkuthi, a quiet village on the edge of Cooch Behar in north Bengal. And yet, the shifts in the sub-continent's geo-politics meant that his country kept changing. He was born in pre-Independence India, grew up in East Pakistan and turned into a senior citizen in Bangladesh. And last July, when India and Bangladesh exchanged enclaves, he became an Indian citizen again.
On May 5, Mansur Ali — that's his shorter name on the Aadhar card — will stamp the ballot paper for the first time in his life. "I am 77, but that day I will be just 18," jokes Ali, a community leader.
A lifetime in a chitmahal (enclave) means living in one country and being surrounded by another. It's a life of denial and desperation but Ali is not bitter about the cruel punches life threw at him.
Ali was born in a family of landowners in 1939. "My grandfather had 39 bighas of land laden with mango trees," he recalls. He went a school in nearby Lauchapra village. Then Partition happened. "There was looting for weeks," Ali says.
After Partition, Poaturkuthi became a part of East Pakistan surrounded by Indian villages. He couldn't go to Lauchapra anymore. For some years, he studied in a mediocre local school.
"Then my family created a fake address, gave me a fake name and got me admitted to Choudhuryhaat High School on the Indian side in 1956. When I completed matriculation, a teacher offered me a job in a hospital with a monthly salary of Rs 100. But I refused though I knew that my Indian degree was not valid in Dhaka."
Like all enclaves, Poaturkuthi was ignored by the state: no development, no electricity and no police. "We were sitting ducks for miscreants," says Ali.
In 1966, his father was shot at during a dacoity at his house. Ali recalls getting a taxi and with the help of relatives from across the border, taking his father to MJN hospital in Cooch Behar. "The doctor looked at him and asked, 'Are you a dacoit?' My father replied, 'No. I am from the other side of the border.' He was arrested. But he was also treated for his wounds. Police stood guard outside his ward as he recovered. Later he was produced in court. He was asked to either pay a fine of Rs 5 or spend a week in jail. "But a customs officer helped us out. If this had happened today, my father might have had to spend months in jail. But after that, cross-border interactions became infrequent," says Ali.
There was much bonhomie on both sides of the border when Bangladesh was born in 1971, especially because Indira Gandhi and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman were on great terms. When the India-Bangladesh Land Boundary Agreement was signed in 1974, enclave-dwellers hoped their problems would be solved.
Mohammad Mansur Ali Miah has spent his entire life in Poaturkuthi, a quiet village on the edge of Cooch Behar in north Bengal. And yet, the shifts in the sub-continent's geo-politics meant that his country kept changing. He was born in pre-Independence India, grew up in East Pakistan and turned into a senior citizen in Bangladesh. And last July, when India and Bangladesh exchanged enclaves, he became an Indian citizen again.
On May 5, Mansur Ali — that's his shorter name on the Aadhar card — will stamp the ballot paper for the first time in his life. "I am 77, but that day I will be just 18," jokes Ali, a community leader.
A lifetime in a chitmahal (enclave) means living in one country and being surrounded by another. It's a life of denial and desperation but Ali is not bitter about the cruel punches life threw at him.
Ali was born in a family of landowners in 1939. "My grandfather had 39 bighas of land laden with mango trees," he recalls. He went a school in nearby Lauchapra village. Then Partition happened. "There was looting for weeks," Ali says.
After Partition, Poaturkuthi became a part of East Pakistan surrounded by Indian villages. He couldn't go to Lauchapra anymore. For some years, he studied in a mediocre local school.
"Then my family created a fake address, gave me a fake name and got me admitted to Choudhuryhaat High School on the Indian side in 1956. When I completed matriculation, a teacher offered me a job in a hospital with a monthly salary of Rs 100. But I refused though I knew that my Indian degree was not valid in Dhaka."
Like all enclaves, Poaturkuthi was ignored by the state: no development, no electricity and no police. "We were sitting ducks for miscreants," says Ali.
In 1966, his father was shot at during a dacoity at his house. Ali recalls getting a taxi and with the help of relatives from across the border, taking his father to MJN hospital in Cooch Behar. "The doctor looked at him and asked, 'Are you a dacoit?' My father replied, 'No. I am from the other side of the border.' He was arrested. But he was also treated for his wounds. Police stood guard outside his ward as he recovered. Later he was produced in court. He was asked to either pay a fine of Rs 5 or spend a week in jail. "But a customs officer helped us out. If this had happened today, my father might have had to spend months in jail. But after that, cross-border interactions became infrequent," says Ali.
There was much bonhomie on both sides of the border when Bangladesh was born in 1971, especially because Indira Gandhi and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman were on great terms. When the India-Bangladesh Land Boundary Agreement was signed in 1974, enclave-dwellers hoped their problems would be solved.
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