11-04-2006, 10:16 PM
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin--><b>The burden of memory </b>
Kanchan Gupta
<i>Bangali koreche bhogoban re...
Banga desh-e jonmo holo
Bangali hoye thakte holo...
Petey bhishon khida tobu
Mukhey baul gaan re...
Bangali koreche bhogoban re...</i>
These lines from a song made popular by Mohiner Ghoraguli, a Bangla band that, meteor-like, blazed for a while and then sank without a trace in the early-1980s, capture the tragedy of being born in West Bengal and the frustration of coping with denial, deprivation and destitution - of a people, of a State. The timelessness of the lyrics is particularly highlighted by the un-changing face of West Bengal where three decades of Marxist rule, premised on and perpetuated by pandering to regional aspirations, have failed to instil pride and self-confidence among Bengalis, or protect them from rapacious traders-turned-businessmen who, through craft and deceit, have slyly come to control nearly every segment of West Bengal's economy and society, and, by extension, its politics.
Instead, we have a pathetic situation where profiteers, racketeers and scamsters, all cronies of the Marxists in power - and before that whichever party, including the Congress, that came to occupy Writers' Building - and invariably immigrant 'entrepreneurs' whose forefathers operated out of the dingy, Byzantine lanes of Burrabazar in Kolkata, continue to treat the people of West Bengal as nothing more than dumb animals to be exploited to maximise profits with scant regard for business ethics and even lesser respect for human lives.
Hence, it is not really surprising that a firm called Monozyme India, owned by Govind Sarda and Ghanshyam Sarda, should have indulged in as ghastly a scam as supplying tens of thousands of faulty blood-screening kits well past their use-by-date to Health Department-run hospitals, blood banks and health centres in West Bengal. The scam, which began in early-2005, would not have come to light if two senior employees - both Bengalis - had not blown the whistle after failing to convince the firm about the sheer illegality and criminality of supplying faulty kits and thus endangering human lives.
What has emerged till now suggests no other scam compares to what is being referred to in West Bengal as "kit kelenkari". Monozyme India bagged the contract to supply kits to test blood for contamination before being used for transfusion with more than a little help from apparatchiks in Alimuddin Street in Kolkata where the CPI(M)'s sprawling and swank offices are located. Once they had secured the contract, the firm's owners, known for their proximity to Marxist movers and shakers, went about the task of getting their own men appointed to key positions in the Health Department, which is under the tutelage of Mr Surya Kanta Mishra, a hugely incompetent and shockingly callous comrade who believes modern hospitals and healthcare are capitalist concepts not meant for the poor, struggling masses of West Bengal.
Subsequently, Monozyme India supplied blood-screening kits whose use-by-dates and other technical data were diligently scratched out, obviously with the full knowledge, if not at the instruction, of the firm's owners. At least 450,000 such faulty kits are believed to have been used for screening blood for killer viruses like HIV and Hepatitis B/C. Which means, as many recipients of blood screened by these faulty kits have been exposed to infection that could lead them to premature death. Media reports say a thalassemic child has already tested positive for HIV.
Govind Sarda and Ghanshyam Sarda, now in police custody, insist that they are "honest businessmen" who merely supplied kits manufactured by a South Korean company. Their liability, therefore, is limited and they cannot be accused of any crime. We can be sure their lawyers will spin out more fantastic tales when the case moves to court, provided their Marxist protectors do not ensure the ongoing inquiry exonerates them of any wrongdoing. We can also be sure that other charlatans who profit from similar "businesses" in West Bengal and have the State's rulers and officials in their thraldom, will bring about pressure on the Government to go easy and not push the envelope too far.
Soon, all could be forgotten - though not necessarily forgiven - and it will be business as usual. Yet another criminal offence, fraught with terrifying consequences, will become a footnote of West Bengal's history and that of the Bengalis' too. After all, this is not the first time that unscrupulous immigrant businessmen have wilfully cheated the people of West Bengal to mark up their profits. Bhabanicharan Banerjee in his 1823 classic, Kalikata Kamalalay, described Kolkata as a "bottomless ocean of wealth". Hordes of traders, many of them bereft of ethics and morals, migrated to Kolkata between 1890 and 1920 to plumb that bottomless ocean; the plumbing still continues unabated.
Kolkata's history tells us of the<b> 'great ghee scandal' of 1917 by when these traders had established near monopoly over manufacture and trade in this dairy product whose purity makes it integral to Hindu rites and rituals. When 67 samples were tested, only seven proved to be pure ghee, one contained five per cent ghee and 95 per cent "unmentionable and untouchable fat", others did not have a "drop of ghee". To expiate for this crime, the Marwari Association fined each trader Rs 1,00,000 and the money was used for bringing in 3,000 Brahmins from Benares to purify those who had unwittingly consumed the adulterated ghee</b>. Public memory being notoriously short, nobody remembers that scam today, <b>nor can many recall the prosecution of Jain Shudh Vanaspati for what came to be known as the "beef tallow case" in more recent times. </b>
The burden of memory can be tiresome, and the vast majority of Bengalis, struggling to stay afloat and make ends meet in a decrepit State with a bankrupt exchequer, have resigned themselves to being exploited by traders and businessmen who control the levers of what passes for economy in West Bengal and enjoy tremendous clout with those who control the levers of politics in that benighted province of India. Supplying faulty blood-screening kits and endangering tens of thousands of human lives is bad, very bad. But for a people long used to such abuse - in the 1960s and 1970s it was adulterated baby food; in the 1980s <span style='color:red'>it was mustard oil spiked with paralysis inducing additives - perhaps it makes little sense to register their protest or voice dissent</span>. They have resigned themselves to their awful fate, and, like the lyrics of Mohiner Ghoraguli's song, believe
<i>Bangali koreche bhogoban re...</i><!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
I was a victim of adulterated mustard oil. Now I know source was WB.
Kanchan Gupta
<i>Bangali koreche bhogoban re...
Banga desh-e jonmo holo
Bangali hoye thakte holo...
Petey bhishon khida tobu
Mukhey baul gaan re...
Bangali koreche bhogoban re...</i>
These lines from a song made popular by Mohiner Ghoraguli, a Bangla band that, meteor-like, blazed for a while and then sank without a trace in the early-1980s, capture the tragedy of being born in West Bengal and the frustration of coping with denial, deprivation and destitution - of a people, of a State. The timelessness of the lyrics is particularly highlighted by the un-changing face of West Bengal where three decades of Marxist rule, premised on and perpetuated by pandering to regional aspirations, have failed to instil pride and self-confidence among Bengalis, or protect them from rapacious traders-turned-businessmen who, through craft and deceit, have slyly come to control nearly every segment of West Bengal's economy and society, and, by extension, its politics.
Instead, we have a pathetic situation where profiteers, racketeers and scamsters, all cronies of the Marxists in power - and before that whichever party, including the Congress, that came to occupy Writers' Building - and invariably immigrant 'entrepreneurs' whose forefathers operated out of the dingy, Byzantine lanes of Burrabazar in Kolkata, continue to treat the people of West Bengal as nothing more than dumb animals to be exploited to maximise profits with scant regard for business ethics and even lesser respect for human lives.
Hence, it is not really surprising that a firm called Monozyme India, owned by Govind Sarda and Ghanshyam Sarda, should have indulged in as ghastly a scam as supplying tens of thousands of faulty blood-screening kits well past their use-by-date to Health Department-run hospitals, blood banks and health centres in West Bengal. The scam, which began in early-2005, would not have come to light if two senior employees - both Bengalis - had not blown the whistle after failing to convince the firm about the sheer illegality and criminality of supplying faulty kits and thus endangering human lives.
What has emerged till now suggests no other scam compares to what is being referred to in West Bengal as "kit kelenkari". Monozyme India bagged the contract to supply kits to test blood for contamination before being used for transfusion with more than a little help from apparatchiks in Alimuddin Street in Kolkata where the CPI(M)'s sprawling and swank offices are located. Once they had secured the contract, the firm's owners, known for their proximity to Marxist movers and shakers, went about the task of getting their own men appointed to key positions in the Health Department, which is under the tutelage of Mr Surya Kanta Mishra, a hugely incompetent and shockingly callous comrade who believes modern hospitals and healthcare are capitalist concepts not meant for the poor, struggling masses of West Bengal.
Subsequently, Monozyme India supplied blood-screening kits whose use-by-dates and other technical data were diligently scratched out, obviously with the full knowledge, if not at the instruction, of the firm's owners. At least 450,000 such faulty kits are believed to have been used for screening blood for killer viruses like HIV and Hepatitis B/C. Which means, as many recipients of blood screened by these faulty kits have been exposed to infection that could lead them to premature death. Media reports say a thalassemic child has already tested positive for HIV.
Govind Sarda and Ghanshyam Sarda, now in police custody, insist that they are "honest businessmen" who merely supplied kits manufactured by a South Korean company. Their liability, therefore, is limited and they cannot be accused of any crime. We can be sure their lawyers will spin out more fantastic tales when the case moves to court, provided their Marxist protectors do not ensure the ongoing inquiry exonerates them of any wrongdoing. We can also be sure that other charlatans who profit from similar "businesses" in West Bengal and have the State's rulers and officials in their thraldom, will bring about pressure on the Government to go easy and not push the envelope too far.
Soon, all could be forgotten - though not necessarily forgiven - and it will be business as usual. Yet another criminal offence, fraught with terrifying consequences, will become a footnote of West Bengal's history and that of the Bengalis' too. After all, this is not the first time that unscrupulous immigrant businessmen have wilfully cheated the people of West Bengal to mark up their profits. Bhabanicharan Banerjee in his 1823 classic, Kalikata Kamalalay, described Kolkata as a "bottomless ocean of wealth". Hordes of traders, many of them bereft of ethics and morals, migrated to Kolkata between 1890 and 1920 to plumb that bottomless ocean; the plumbing still continues unabated.
Kolkata's history tells us of the<b> 'great ghee scandal' of 1917 by when these traders had established near monopoly over manufacture and trade in this dairy product whose purity makes it integral to Hindu rites and rituals. When 67 samples were tested, only seven proved to be pure ghee, one contained five per cent ghee and 95 per cent "unmentionable and untouchable fat", others did not have a "drop of ghee". To expiate for this crime, the Marwari Association fined each trader Rs 1,00,000 and the money was used for bringing in 3,000 Brahmins from Benares to purify those who had unwittingly consumed the adulterated ghee</b>. Public memory being notoriously short, nobody remembers that scam today, <b>nor can many recall the prosecution of Jain Shudh Vanaspati for what came to be known as the "beef tallow case" in more recent times. </b>
The burden of memory can be tiresome, and the vast majority of Bengalis, struggling to stay afloat and make ends meet in a decrepit State with a bankrupt exchequer, have resigned themselves to being exploited by traders and businessmen who control the levers of what passes for economy in West Bengal and enjoy tremendous clout with those who control the levers of politics in that benighted province of India. Supplying faulty blood-screening kits and endangering tens of thousands of human lives is bad, very bad. But for a people long used to such abuse - in the 1960s and 1970s it was adulterated baby food; in the 1980s <span style='color:red'>it was mustard oil spiked with paralysis inducing additives - perhaps it makes little sense to register their protest or voice dissent</span>. They have resigned themselves to their awful fate, and, like the lyrics of Mohiner Ghoraguli's song, believe
<i>Bangali koreche bhogoban re...</i><!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
I was a victim of adulterated mustard oil. Now I know source was WB.