A Date with Sine Die

At this writing, September 4, all trucks, lorries and threewheelers are off the streets in all West Bengal. Transport operators, who are in many ways less taxed here than in most States, are on strike; and the small segment of trade in West Bengal which is still controlled by Bengalis is the hardest hit in consequence. The Pujas, bengal's biggest festival, which of course has considerable commercial implications, are only a few weeks away. This was the time to stock up saris, dhotis, wireless sets and various other things, for the Pujas have set a pattern of buying and selling which hard times can alter but little. Fish, meat and vegetables are getting scarce in Calcutta, for they cannot come from the suburbs and other sources. It is strikes like this that suddenly remind residents of this city how parlously close life is to a standstill; a few transport operators can decide what we will or will not eat.

But this transport deadlock is only a very small part of the wider and deeper goslow that is life in Bengal today. Elected gentry set the pace. The Corporation few take seriously. For months now teachers and students have been out on the streets for one reason or another. One can hardly remember a day on which there are not processions or protest meetings. If it is not the goldsmiths, it is the motion picture employees. If it is not a hartal, it is a bandh. And on Friday (September 2) noise in the West Bengal Legislative Assembly reached a point at which the Speaker could only adjourn the House sine die.