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saturday, june 21, 2014
All agog Journalists try to find a vantage-point to witness the unlocking of the famed chest; (below) Shyamali Das, who decreed its contents belonged to her shreevatsa nevatia
Chest raiders
they wouldn’t be allowed to witness the unlocking of the famed chests. A merciless sun didn’t help matters much. As the drilling of the cutters began to resonate from the narrow courtyard of the police station, a bunch of intrepid camerapersons seemed infected by the dauntless spirit of Captain Jack Sparrow’s crew. Much like the buccaneers from the Pirates of the Caribbean, they leapt on terraces and unsuspecting trees to find an appropriate vantage point. Before they could get a clear view of their dead man’s chest, however, a policeman came charging with a lathi and a scuffle broke out. the Gariahat Police Station. With both claimIndy Jones would have perhaps used this liting rightful ownership, the shoe manufactur- tle diversion to sneak his way to the centre of er and former owner took to fighting a battle action, but in my defence, I was suddenly disin court. Wanting to end the cruel suspense tracted by a copy of an advocate’s letter that that had come to surround the chests and was thrust into my hands. Shyamali Das, who their content, the Alipore Court in December was fearlessly braving the torments of an un2013 had declared that it was time for the coff- forgiving afternoon, had appeared outside the ers to be opened. More than six months later, Gariahat Police Station, declaring that she was that day of revelation was upon us. the absolute owner of the iron chests being opened. We now had a third claimant. “These Moment of truth boxes belonged to my ancestors and were unI reached the Gariahat Police Station early this lawfully moved from my property. I am here to past Monday morning. Officials from the West fight for them,” she said. Das held the attenBengal Fire and Emergency Services would on- tion of assembled media professionals for ally arrive with their electric and most an hour, but her pleas and gas cutters at noon, I was told. implorations were forgotten as Until then, I had to join the ranks soon as the fire department offiof an ever-curious press contincial Tarun Kumar Dutta came gent that had perched itself on outside to inform the press, “We A bunch of intrepid the pavement outside. As the have been able to open all three camerapersons number of cameras and OB vans chests with great success.” seemed infected by increased in the little lane out- the dauntless spirit of The only positive takeaway side the police station, so did the from Dutta’s further statements Captain Jack interest of casual passersby. After was the obvious efficiency of the Sparrow’s crew having stopped twice to assess fire department. They hadn’t this hysteria in his neighbourfound gold, ganja or explosives. hood, businessman Prabhat Das “There were some needles, scissaid, “I had read that these chests sors and some blades. All I can were going to be opened on June 16, but I tell you is that the chests were made in Canahadn’t thought it was going to be such a his- da.” Other items were later added by police oftoric occasion. Who knows what’s inside ficials — fire protected clay, four ₹5 currency there? Gold, perhaps.” Another onlooker then notes, a one paisa coin dated 1953, a calendar came up to me and whispered, “Bombs, dyna- from the year 1974. With all talk of 300-yearmite. I am sure of it. There will be an explo- old valuables rendered wishful, I was finally sion. That’s why the fire department is given a chance to inspect the chests for myself. coming.” A television cameraman, who The boxes were mouldy and rusted. The faces looked obviously bored by the seemingly end- of the claimants were crestfallen. Even the asless wait, had perfected his own theory — sembled police officials looked disappointed. “Ganja, has to be.” They were hoping for jewels, not needles. I had By the time the fire brigade personnel final- started thinking of Indy. Curiosity, for me, had ly arrived in their red jeeps and vans, curiosity killed the hat. had grown into impatience. Since the matter was sub-judice, the press were informed that shreevatsa nevatia is a Kolkata-based writer
When three iron chests weighing over 1,000-kg each were opened, the journalists were in thrall, so were its claimants. Did it contain gold, dynamite, or ganja, perhaps?
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ometime during a rather impressionable childhood, I firmly believed that Indiana Jones had singlehandedly defeated the Nazis. Having devoured Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark, I grew obsessed by Indy’s search for the Ark of the Covenant. If I just had a whip and a fedora, I told my bemused parents, I too could scuttle Hitler’s hope for invincibility. The idea was laughed off, as was my demand for an eyepatch after I had finished reading Treasure Island. Dissatisfied with the explanation that a pirate cannot be a role model, I dreamt of treasure troves and maps marked with a telling ‘X’. Years later, I’m a tad embarrassed by my imaginary discoveries of buried hoards, but given the nature of recent events, I wish I’d bought myself that Indy hat. As is true for many adventures in Kolkata, ours begins with a precise address — 178, Rash Behari Avenue. Having bought this piece of land from owner Mahamaya Pal, Sreeleathers, a shoe manufacturer, began constructing a showroom here in 2008. A few days later, their drill hit a hard metallic surface. Some digging later, labourers on the site unearthed three iron chests. Estimated to weigh over 1,000-kg each, a crane was employed to haul out these possible antiques. The police arrived with the crane. They seized the chests and swiftly transported them to
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