Usri Falls

Usri Falls

The river Usri bends around Giridih, like a young suitor holding his beloved round the waist!!

Starting from beyond Kharagdiha [approx 45 kms from Giridih] the river flows by Pachamba alongside Christen Hill, it starts bending southwards from Copperfield[1] then around Barganda - passing by the house where Ms Aruna Asaf Ali [Heroine of the 1942 Quit India Movement] [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aruna_Asaf_Ali] had taken refuge to avoid being arrested. Usri takes southward turns all along and then flows along the Argaghat [funeral -burning ghat] and local morgue where  postmortems are conducted. The river then flows for about nine kilometres through picturesque countryside - stretches of dense forests and finally flows down a steep gorge of 12 meters in three separate streams. The river then meets the Barakar river, at whose bidding she has covered so many miles! 

Shots for a number of movies have been taken near the falls. Starting October through February this place is a  source of attraction for hundreds of holiday- makers every year. Most of the holiday makers are from the 'City of Joy' who move out during this period for their annual 'hawa badal' [change of air] - carrying light woollens [monkey cap or mufflers included]; digestives like Eno or anti acidity tablets like Pan D. These holiday makers usually stay in Madhupur where availability of houses on rent is easier and from here they commute to Deoghar, Giridih or Parasnath or even Hazaribagh. The local Giridih Bengali gentry call them "Dangchi Babu". The word Dangchi comes from the two words - 'damned cheap'. The holiday makers can be seen moving in the bazaars in groups and shouting to each other 'damn cheap' - 'damn cheap'. The repeated calling out of the words make it sound 'Dangchi Dangchi' and hence their naming. The locals in fact do not like them as they feel that the Dangchi Babus inflate the prices of vegetables and fish.  

The most common conveyance for going to Usri Falls used to be  horse drawn Tongas. The Tonga wallas knew that their customers would arrive by the dozens by the 9.30 a.m. train from Madhupur and hence they would assemble near the railway station. Bargaining would be inevitable, the visitors trying to speak Hindi and the Tonga owners trying to speak Bengali - at times there would be heated arguments in the mixed languages and finally a deal would be struck! Tongas are no longer available now as upkeep of the horses have become expensive. Auto rickshaws and taxis have taken over.

I have seen many luminaries at the station trying for transport. This includes ministers, poets, novelists and film stars. Today Prasenjit Chatterjee (Bumba) is the most popular Bengali star. I remember my friend Debabrata Chakraborty had pointed out to me in the vegetable market one morning; "See Tapan, can you see Biswajit's wife and son?" I saw Ratna Devi - Biswajit's wife looking for lemons with a tiny Prasenjit following his mom; tugging at her saree!

I first found myself in Giridih with my father's transfer there in December 1959. Although I was initially brought there from Patna at the age of 15 days and then taken to Hazaribagh a little after I was one year old, I do not remember the days - except for a photograph of myself lying out on a veranda in a house in Barganda. It was during the Puja holidays in 1960 that my father decided to take us to Usri Falls. We were excited. My grandmother and her brother stayed back in the house. The rented house where we had put up had a large compound, but the compound-wall was broken at many places. We used to get unwanted visitors during the night. So leaving the house unattended was felt unsafe.

"Nirmal" was the name of the Tonga Owner-cum- Driver who lived between Makatpur and Barganda.  He came to our house at sharp 9.30 a.m. and it was to be my first Tonga ride. My mother had packed edible items and we started off on the 11 kms mud road. About 4 kms from Giridih there used to be an un-bridged rivulet. We had to get down from the Tonga while the driver manoeuvred his vehicle across the stream and again pulled it up on the other side. After crossing this rivulet, suddenly bare-bodied men came out of the nearby huts and started running after us. Soon some small boys and girls also started running behind the Tonga. The children were singing "De'ye De'ye pai-ssa: De'ye De'ye pai-ssa" - they ran and sang; sang and ran - untiring, with every breath and every step singing in a monotonous but regular rhythm as their little legs carried them fast behind us. It was obvious that they were wanting money. Nirmal said that they enjoyed picking up the coins tossed by the visitors - so we tossed coins at them which they gleefully collected and went back.  I have later seen visitors making fun of them and making them run for several kilometres! Yes, we are educated elites from big cities!

The men, we found out, ran for working as helping hand at the picnic spot for picking up our bags and for  making fire for cooking in case we needed.

The picnic was fun at the beautiful place. Going down the steep gradient near the falls, one had to get down and walk. The cart owner had a bucket full of fodder and water for his horse. The rocks are slippery and we were careful.

The last four kilometres to the water falls passes through some dense forests and the road was also broken with parts washed away by rain water!  We returned home at about 5.30 in the evening only to suffer a severe back pain the next day because of the cart ride!  I, of course, learnt the risk of sitting right behind the horse after it had had its fodder!

I have been to the Usri Falls many times after this trip. I have been there on Tongas; by bicycle; by motorcycle; by car. It was during the Duga Puja in 1997 when I was posted in Patna Secretariat Branch that we decided to meet in Giridih. My sisters came from Kolkata. After a couple of days, my mother desired to 'see Usri Falls'. I hired a vehicle and off we were! By then the major part of the road was no longer a mud road except the last four kilometres through the jungle. Moreover, the road was also the main thoroughfare connecting Dhanbad. At the junction where the road turns to the mud road through the forest, suddenly, the car broke down. The driver tried his best to repair it, but in vain. As the time ticked away I asked the driver to stop a vehicle coming from Dhanbad so that I could send my mother, daughters and sisters back. I also told him to go back to Giridih on the same vehicle while I would wait there guarding his vehicle! After about half an hour of their going away a group of men arrived in inebriated state. They were in festive mood. They started demanding money from me. I started conversing with them in the typical 'Giridih dialect'; "Ka karbhin paisa leke?"

 I asked. They giggled; "Cocacola pibai". Frank admission that they wanted drinks. My local dialect established me as their 'own' and not a 'diku' [Diku means an alien or enemy which is used for outsiders amongst Santhals]. "Chal hamhun jibo raat me tohar saath nachbo aar cocacola pibo"- my statement made them regale with laughter. It was necessary for me to continue with the dialogues. Thus began a conversation - they were pretty amused that they would have me as their guest in their village, dancing to the tune of their drums! I don't know how long this would have gone, but a jeep came, loaded with visitors and the men ran after the jeep.

The driver arrived after about two hours with a mechanic and I asked to be dropped in the vehicle which had brought them. The next day it was reported in  a local paper that a number of tourists from Kolkata had been looted that evening and beaten up badly. The victims included some famous stars  from Kolkata. My mother never visited Usri Falls after this incident.

I hope to go once, if I am able to go to Giridih. 

The following video is from the site of Jharkhand Tourism:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxD6T3M-7u0

[[1] Copperfield is so called because the place had underground copper. Later stones dug up were melt and copper extracted. The left-over were left there and subsequently placed on the side of the river to prevent soil erosion. There was a grand bungalow at the place where an old Bengali gentleman - a mica merchant lived. He was a rich man and would go down the river every day to float a thin petal made of gold on the river water. He died many years later in a small non-descript room alone, unwept and uncared for. This bungalow was later taken over by a rich mica merchant from the Rajgarhia ]