An edited version of this article was published in Mumbai Mirror on November 14, 2014. Read the article here.
Bhojpur
Kothi, the residence of the royal family of Dumraon, is spread over 76 acres in
the outskirts of the town
In the first week of October, 24-year-old Shivang
Vijay Singh had an unusual visitor at his house. 25-year-old Shailender
introduced himself as a native of one of the neighbouring villages of Buxar
district. He had travelled that afternoon to Dumraon only to meet the prince of
the royal family.
“Sir, I have read about you in the book,” he said.
Ever since the release of Half Girlfriend, Chetan
Bhagat’s latest ‘blockbuster novel’, Shivang has had to get used to such
misconceptions. He played along: “Achcha?”
“Is it true?” Shailender persisted.
“You tell me,” the yuvraj shrugged.
“Do you see the house broken from anywhere?”
The two were at ‘Bhojpur Kothi’, a sprawling estate in
the outskirts of the town, about 120 km away from the state capital Patna. Lush
farms, home to everything from mustard and mangoes to poultry and prawns,
extend all the way to the horizons of the 76 acre property the Dumraon royal
family has been living in for the past five generations. As goes the oft-quoted
legend, the mansion had belonged to an indigo planter in the 19th
century. When he couldn’t afford the upkeep of his house, those high up the
Singh family tree wrangled the sweetest property deal by purchasing it for Rs.
5. Ever since, the zamindars
have been living in without once the fear of the ceiling crashing in.
Evidently, Shailendra had his answer. “Did he come to
Dumraon?” he asked next, referring to Bhagat.
Shivang recalled his answer a month later when he and
I were sitting in his office, next door to the living quarters. “I said to him,
‘No’. He didn’t take our permission to write about us either.”
“What did he say to that?” I ask.
“He took a selfie with me.”
Courtesy: Mumtaz Ansari
A month after the novel released, locals of Dumraon burnt the author's effigies protesting against their offensive portrayal
In his latest offering, the cornfest is about a Bihari
guy falling in love with a high-society girl from Delhi. He then chases her
halfway across the globe to consummate his half-girlfriendship. Our hero Madhav
Jha is cash-poor. In the pre-mutual funds era, his ancestors had thought of
gambling dens as a place to park spare money. One by one, and slowly but
surely, all men in the family kissed the bottle and kicked the bucket, thus
leaving the headstrong women to take charge. As other relations scuttled to foreign
shores, Madhav was raised by his mother who singularly shouldered a crumbling haveli and a
700-students strong girls’ school in the neighbouring town. Madhav’s
proficiency in English, the currency of the urban world, isn’t much to boast
about either, but he is redeemed in his heritage – he was the sole contender
for the title of the prince of Dumraon royal family.
On October 1, ‘Half Girlfriend’ simultaneously hit the
e-shelves and living rooms across the country in the form of full-page
advertisements. Not to skirt the tradition, critics and Quora quorums
faithfully pilloried ‘India’s bestselling writer’ in the next few weeks. It was
all the stuff fairy tales are made of. A month and a half later, a legal notice
made its way from a durbar to a boardroom.
The real Dumraon royal family, it said, was offended
by the vulgar insinuations “...which are false, derogatory in nature and impute
conduct to our clients disparaging and/or degrading them as well as exposing
our clients to contempt and/or ridicule and/or public hatred...” It demanded an
unconditional apology, immediate recall of all the unsold books and removal of
all the references made to the family. This came hot on the heels of the
Dumraon locals burning effigies of the author for portraying the stereotypes
about Bihar, its English handicap and the uncharitable references to the royal
family.
“...so we thought, why not take advantage of our
bankruptcy?” said Chandra Vijay Singh, guffawing to drive home the sarcasm. As
his son Shivang would explain later, the family has enough going for them to
enable the next two generations to survive and thrive.
“Hai na?” he would
look at a yes-man sitting by his side for reassurance.
“Four to five,” pat would be the reply.
Pictured
here with his wife Kanika Rani, 67-year-old Chandra Vijay Singh says he doesn’t
believe parts of Half Girlfriend are fiction but ‘a personal attack’
On the given foggy December morning, the two of us
with Shivang by our side sat at the office from where the family manages its
various business interests. In its austerity, the office is a far cry from
their house next door where the walls are splashed with hides of tigers,
leopards and other hunting trophies; ferocious animals stuffed and frozen for
eternity. At the mansion, the family of six is headed by the current
maharaja Kamal Singh and supported by a staff of 30, including full-time
barbers, electricians, cobblers and the security staff. It was Chandra who had
decided to pursue a defamation suit against the author.
67-year-old Chandra hasn’t read ‘Half Girlfriend’. He
doesn’t want to, not after it became the talk of the town for all the wrong
reasons. After the book released, several royal families across the country
wrote to him, citing the aspersions he now alleges the novel has cast on his
family. His son and acquaintances then marked the portions of the book for him
to read wherein references were made to Dumraon and its royal family. Soon
after, he consulted his lawyers and drafted a legal notice marked to Chetan
Bhagat and the Rupa Publications.
On November 24, ten days after the notice was sent,
Bhagat replied to the lawyers hired by Singh. ‘I have not referred to your
family in my book. The boy is imaginary, and his name is Madhav Jha, and he has
nothing to do with your family,’ it said, alluding to the difference in
surnames. ‘Sometimes in fiction you add drama and you use real names for cities
because it adds authenticity and enhances the reading experience’.
“I don’t think it is fiction,” said Chandra on
Bhagat’s reply. As we spoke, the sentry at the gatepost struck the gong once,
indicating half past five. Most of his workforce had retired for the day,
though the drivers continued to mill about at a distance, always a call away.
“He has said ‘Dumraon Raj’, the family. There’s only one Dumraon Raj and there
is no fictitious name... It is a personal attack.”
With an apology not forthcoming, Chandra is now
gearing up to lock horns in the court. He cited previous experience of having
done so in various property disputes. “He needs to compensate us for what he
has already done – maligning our name.” It took a bit of prodding to for him to
state that the compensation must come in monetary terms.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing less than 20-30 crores. Thanks to us, he has
minted money. After what we have taken out – a statement – his books are
selling like hot cakes.”
Shivang
Vijay Singh (24), the prince of Dumraon, has been flooded with messages
on Facebook asking him if the book is based on him
‘Home delivery’ is a concept exclusive to one family
of Dumraon. With most of the needs fulfilled within the expanse of their
residence, the rest is a phone call away. “The shops come to us,” said Shivang,
be it bangles or iPhones. Unless a soirré is marked on his calendar, the
Rajputs prince seldom ventures out.
“That is why people respect us,” says Shivang,
explaining the design of the social podium. “But I do go out once a week to
talk to shopkeepers or hold a road-show.”
The Singhs belong to the non-ruling zamindari
royalty, originally hailing from Ujjain district in Madhya Pradesh. The kingdom, set up the Parmar rulers of Jagdishpur, was
founded in 1604 by its first ‘raja’ Narayan Mal. After the accession of the
riyasat to the Indian rule in 1951, revenue from land holdings dried up and the
family diversified into oil, healthcare and education. Post independence, their land
holdings shrunk as the zamindari
practice came to an end. Ever since, the family started exploring other avenues
and is today involved in the fields of agriculture, oil, property, healthcare, education
along with running a few charitable trusts.
Shivang will be the first after his grandfather to
take a plunge into active politics. Kamal Singh, who served as a Member of
Parliament between 1952 and 1962, is mostly bedridden after suffering a seizure
in 2013. However, he continues to command his place in the banners hung across
town promoting the Singh scion as the upcoming BJP leader.
A graduate in hotel management from an Aurangabad
based institute, Shivang has a moderate approach towards the controversy. He is
conscious of the caste and class ridden politics that have held its sway since
time immemorial. Even as he speaks about the numerous friend requests he has
received on Facebook since October, his concerns are more pragmatic. One of
them is the upcoming movie based on the book, the rights of which were
reportedly purchased by Ekta Kapoor prior to the book-release.
“People might use that, you know,” he says, as he
gives me a walking tour of his residence. Once a day, the dusty walkways are
ploughed by a car that drives his grandfather within the gated complex. “I am
just getting into political career. They might say, aap to gareeb hai,
aap to Jha hai (you are poor, you are a Jha).”
We briefly halt at the lake that was formerly used to
bathe elephants. He points out the two enclosures that now lie vacant but once
housed two bears and a pet tiger named Puss Puss. Finally, we settle down on
cosy-chairs in an archway outside the house.
By now, the visiting hours have started. We are joined
by two men who touch Shivang’s feet before they hand over a wedding invitation
card. Shivang recognizes one of them as Rohit Mishra, a member of the local BJP
youth unit. He introduces me and my purpose of visit. Mishra’s face lights up
at the mention of Chetan Bhagat.
“I just want to say this: jab bhi woh yahan
aayenge, hum unka acche se swagat karenge (whenever he will visit, we will
welcome him just right),” says Mishra, before bowing out of the proceedings.
Shivang grins. “I didn’t say a word.”
***
DUMRAON IN PICTURES
The
town with a population of around 50,000 is located about 120 km from Patna, the
capital of Bihar
At literacy
of 71.59%, Dumraon rates higher than Bihar’s average of 61.80%
Temperatures
fluctuate between high 40s in summer and go as low as 5 degree Celsius in winters
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