A Mother's Dream.
by George Nandan
Grandpa died while she was still a toddler. She lost her brothers one by one and Grandma had to be admitted in the mental institution, stricken with grieve of losing all her sons and husband. While my mom was a child Grandma spent her final years at the hospital and never recovered from her loss. Mom and her only sister continued on-wards the best they could.

"A mother's love is eternal by design." George Nandan 

2014: Mom and Dad

At sixteen she was rocking her baby cousin in their hammock and singing that chune from 1952 movie Deedar's [Leja mere duwaye leja] Oh Traveler take my blessing with you! This song caught the attention of a nineteen years old traveling contracted laborer of Enmore Sugar Estate in the form of my Dad. He knows Hindi and marveled at the voice of this pretty fair skinned orphaned teenager and the rest is her-story. [To be published in the future "Through Her Eyes" by yours truly.

As mom got married and became a young mother, the first thing she wanted for my elder siblings was a good education. Living in the bush of Jagoo Bagdam could not provide that opportunity. She endured and overcame the impossible odds in convincing Dad to relocate to Canal No.2 Polder, for her now four kids to attend Kawall Primary School. Then the rest us arrived with the blessed hope of our mother.

Besides Dad's poorly-guided and misinformed notions on being a good husband and father at the time, poverty prevented me and most of my siblings to attend high school. That did not sit well with me and at age 15, I embarked on my quest to be a student of GTI in Georgetown and finally got in on my second try at 16 years old. Needless to say mom was the catalyst and I assisted with the expenses in helping her to sell vegetables at Stabroak and our neighborhood in Canal No.2.

So, fast forward to today. My mother's dream of making sure that all her eight children could at least read and write has been fulfilled. Two of her sons graduated Technical School, me and my Pastor brother. Now I have gotten my GED in the Florida and attend a Junior College and just wrapped up my nursing pre-reqs.

As I write this mom is at home in New York under the supervision of my sister worried about her old man, my dad. Dad is being treated for CHF at North Shore Unv. Hosp. in Long Island. Would you believe me if I tell you my Dad has learned how to video call me here in Florida on Facebook messenger? Yep!

I am carrying on my mother's dream of education, My son has done it at UCF and will go on to get his masters. I will end up with at least three degrees in the future. Being the youngest of four brothers my academic accomplishments is a tribute to her, my dad and my elder siblings who have worked tirelessly to overcome poverty.

2016: Mom, Dad and my sister Nar with me at our village of Canal #2 Polder, West Bank Demerara, Guyana. Annual Reunion held in Flushing Meadows Corona Park Queens, New York, USA.

A mother;s dream and son's tribute. I love you Mom and get better soon Dad. You owe me a video call...lol. 

 Thank you for reading.

My Roots
by George Nandan.

Place of my birth over 52 years ago. Before the church, before the shed, there was an old house about 4 feet off the ground. The living room had manicole walls with mud. The kitchen had a tatched roof with dew-grass. I remember because some of my classmates used to wait to see me enter that old house and I my curiosity with matches made me nearly burned the house down. I loved that old house because it was hand-built by my Dad and Mom during the sixties relocating from Jagoo Bagdam. They bought the land after living in Hog Gobin's Cow Pen. Yes my parents and elder siblings lived in a Cow-Pen. That is humble beginnings indeed.

2017: 23 Gov't Lands, South Section, Canal #2 Polder,
West Bank Demerara, Guyana South America.

Many stories were told in that old house bymy Auntie Mali of Enterprise. The poem "Mala the Matriarch" that I wrote that helped me win a Creative Writing award by my college was due to her inspiration. The old house was replaced by the existing building behind in 1976. I used to entertain my sisters and neighbors with my Bollywood renditions. We always had a hammock at our bottom house. The back-half was our kitchen on the first floor with three bedrooms on the second floor. I mistakenly drank kerosene for ice-cream soda but I will write about that another time...lol

My pre-teen and teenage years was spent there. In front of the building Dad had an organic garden before organic gardens became cool. When my nephew Richie was born I used to rock him in our hammock at our bottom house and sing him to sleep. It was difficult times but somehow I achieved two impossible goals of successfully attending GTI and immigrating to America. This place taught me a lot. I had my own organic garden and collected cow-dung by hand on the Dam just to help my plants grow. My Mom had a stall at Stabroak market in Georgetown so during my Freshman year at GTI, I had to help sell vegetables to help my family offset the expenses of attending GTI via the most unreliable transport system ever in Guyana...the Tata buses. My youngest sister Seerie used to accompany me. I had to ignore the inconvenience of being laughed at and there were a few. But despite the odds, this place taught me to never ever give up.

At the back of the house we had a fowl and duck pen. I even had the responsibility of two bulls to take care off. I had with the help but not always, by my two younger sisters Indie and Seerie feed the duck and fowl, take the bulls to the back dam, water the plants by buckets then go to school at Kawall Primary. I am glad for those chores because it taught me some important lessons that sometimes even I take for granted.

Behind the poultry pens, my dad planted some fruits tress, oranges, tangerines, a mamee, mangoes, bling bling, shamrock, etc., and yes I remember a cotton tree as well. Front of the house we had a sour-sap, avocado, etc. he had many squash hanging from the machan (harbors) over the drains in front, same, nenwah, and grammadilla. Dad had a system with his rotating spots of latrines and those fruits tress, even before it became a a popular subject taking the world by storm as Earth Day.

Before the organic harbors at the West side of our house especially and early part of the existing building there were some wild Bead bushes. I saw many types of birds that may not even be documented so far. There were of different types wth different colors just like those beautiful snakes in the Back-dam. You may have read my short story on my blog about being attacked by that beautiful kamakari snake...lol. It is interesting but majestically brilliant with a twist at the end.

My eldest sister Chan had many different types of crotons and I had a bed of zinnias as well, in front of the house. The neighbors would remark that it looks like botanical garden. Where the church building is currently located, Dad and my elder brothers established a Trailer Track all the way to the swamp part of our Backdam. He taught the neighbors how to cultivate sugar as well. On the Trailer Track part from the main gate at our gap leading up our bridge I had the grass neatly trimmed with a 12 inches cut-out. Auntie Parwah our neighbor to the East would tease me that my bride will walk there and indeed she did on our first and only visit to Canal #2 so far.

At the back of the section of fruit trees, the Trailer Track takes a curve for the West side of our land and stood there was a majestic spice mango tree right in the smack middle. During the mango season it was gloriously loaded and my favorite boyhood fruit tree. I would climb all the way to the top, selecting the best, most freshest of mangoes and just eat away to my heart's content, right there on the top of the world or so it seems at the time. I could see over the tops of the mostly two-story houses to Gobin bridge and see among the big boys who is liming and troubling the girls shopping at Cyril Magga shop. Sometimes I see my brother Lull among them and of course I had to gather firewood (his duty) because he prefers to lime and play cricket at Cultural Cricket Club. That tree would sway back and fort with the wind gusts but now I realized I had kept my Guardian Angel busy protecting my adventurous deeds.

I can go on and write many stories but as you know I do have some at georgenandan.blogspot.com

I plan to write at least 100 more and post to my blog. A website coming in the years. You can keep up by checking out my George Nandan -Literary Artist page on Facebook. So you can read them there. My Place of Birth special and nostalgic indeed.

Thank you for reading.

Short Biography of Artist George Nandan-Third Party's Perspective!

 Nicely written from a Third Party's perspective! Updated April, 30th, 2017.

Short Biography of Artist George Nandan

George Nandan

Girl From GT Project

Artistic Journey

Television

Hostess- Shanaz Husain

July 9, 2014

Short Biography of Artist George Nandan

Written by an Anonymous Third Party.

            George Nandan was born Nankissure Raghunandan AKA Sunny to Patrick and Kuntee Raghunandan in a Dutch designed village of Canal No.2 Polder. Canal No.2 Polder is the second of the Canals Polder dug by African slaves under Dutch rule. It is located on the West Bank of the Demerara River. The Village of Canal No.2 Polder is known for its proximity to Wales Sugar Estate on the Bank of the same Demerara River. Situated just thirteen road miles from the capital Georgetown, Canal No. 2 is ideal for the students who are enrolled in high schools in and the Technical Institute that George attended. The village remained mostly agricultural with a small minority working in the capital Georgetown and elsewhere. The Canals Polder was created mainly for coffee and cotton plantation but was replaced by sugar cane which wiped out most of the coffee, and totally wiped out the cotton plantations.   

            The village of Canal No. 2 is known for its academics notably Kawall Primary School

Birthplace of George Nandan

Pic. Courtesy Narpattie Ganesh.

under legendary Headmaster the late Budhoo. Artistic culture has always existed as well. When his first cousin Hanuman got, married George was the Sybala and saw firsthand live

performances and music that influenced the emotions of people and he knew right then and there that one day he will create melodies that appeal the same way.

            Born in a home with artistic parents, at the tender age of six George made his debut at the Hindu Temple. His Dad is a former member of the Ramayana Group of the same Temple. opportunities to be exposed in various types of Hindu Cultural styles of music. George picked up learning the styles of playing the Dolak (drums) from his Dad while developed playing the different styles of Maticore drums by observing his Mom.

            During his Boyhood years George developed his singing talent by vocalizing Bollywood melodies namely the styles of playback singers Mukesh and Rafi. He was fortunate enough to have a tape recorder with the option to record in the seventies. He fondly recalled his Mom and Dad recording their first religious song and was inspired to be a real recording artist. His Dad played the drum and sang with Mom. That became a reality years later. George had certain responsibilities such as taking the cows before and after school to graze in the swamp in the back-dam as known locally. There was a Jamoon tree that George sang after snacking on mangoes, cashews, jamoons or whatever fruit was in season while the cattle grazed. That way he can practice and not be bored and scared. Rover his dog would keep his company.

          There would be many times when George would sing a set of songs repeatedly to pass the time and yoked the bulls and head home before nightfall while still singing Filmy songs as it was known then. George kept developing his vocals as the opportunities presented itself. He would always do his chores so he can and observe the local musicians. That group called the Sour Sop did not materialize into a band but laid the groundwork for the Naya Fasana Band under the late Jugnu.

George Nandan and his wife Kaminie

Nandan. 1990 Queens Botanical Gardens

Flushing, New York, USA.

Pic. courtesy Dolly Baijnath

Graphics courtesy Meli Singh

            A constant source of inspiration was from the radio, in addition to the countless cassettes tapes accumulated by his Dad. Inspirational singers/songwriters/vocalists such as Sundar Popo, Ramdeo Chaitoo, Dropattie, Bhawanie Singh (Original singer/songwriter for Drinking in the Bar), Mohan Nandu, Mighty Enchanta (Original Singer for Fowl Cock a Nap e Drum) among many whose works were aired that had an influence on his artistic skills. He was in attendance in almost every major concert event in his Boyhood days featuring leading bands of the day such as Merrytones, Sohanie Combo, and De Originals among others in his native village.

            In the second grade of Kawall Primary School, George was called Little Mukesh by classmate Rohit. He remembers getting in trouble for disturbing the class with his singing.

Christmas takes on special meaning because he was thrilled to participate in the singing of

Christmas Carols. He was chosen many times for his voice and would be the only male vocalist in the group on stage. He looked forward to sing many of the Folk and Patriotic songs of the day. 

Kawall Primary School where George

Nandan got encouragement from 

Tch.Harry Narine

            As George approached Pre-Teen years his family started converting to Christianity. He welcomed the opportunity to learn new styles of music. He made his singing debut as a Gospel Singer at the Canal No.2 Presbyterian Church. In his teenage years, he got a good handle of Gospel Hymnals and started writing Gospel songs and got interested in acting in the church’s plays. There was a one play that he put together with the youth group that became inspiration for the others.

            Poverty was the norm of the day so when George failed his Common Entrance Examination his only hope for attending secondary school in another village was dashed. He had to wait to write the College of Preceptors but that was replaced by the Secondary Schools Proficiency Examination (SSPE). It enabled him to be accepted in Government Technical Institute in Georgetown, Guyana where he was introduced to the Youth Group at Bible Study who were into music such as Reggae, Calypso, Soca, Steel Pan and fort the first time partake in live Chutney known as ‘Local” music back in the day.  Funny he had to help his Mom sell vegetables to help pay for transportation to GTI when his friends were interested in members of the opposite sex, poverty can be cruel but desire to succeed can overcome anything. George continued to sing Gospel at the Government Technical Institute while he kept up his vocalizing skills on Bollywood compositions.

            At the age of nineteen George immigrated to the USA via Canada but continues in

his artistic adventures. The early eighties had limited artistic opportunities in New York. All this started to change gradually namely by veteran Broadcaster Mr. Ishri Sing who was the catalyst behind the renaming ‘Local’ music into the new ‘Chutney” rhythm.

Song: Girl from GT
Singer: George Nandan
Music: Avi-Supertones Band
Remix: VP Premier
Video: Meli Singh
Theme: Based on his True Love Story
Models: George and His Beautiful Wife of 26 years (2013).

    





 All during the nineties Chutney Bands flourish. Gemini, Angels, Treveni based in New

York and Dil E Nadan based in Trinidad to just to name a few, had tremendous impact on

George’s influence on music. In 1999 George did his first recording with Avi of the Supertones Band at the Supertones Recording Studio, Ozone Park, NY and continues to this day in Kissimmee, FL. His first song “I Love You” was a dedication to his wife that helped him got the ‘Original Artist of the Year 2000.” he went on to record over eighteen original songs that still resonates today. All his songs were aired on the Local Talent show by Host Bhawanie Singh and the Farouk Juman Radio Program by Host Farouk Juman, on WPAT 930 AM Stereo NY/NJ/CT. These were done before the social media craze except My Space. In 2001 George had to give up playing with the Supertones Band because of commitment to travel overseas.

            In 2000 George recorded debut with ten original songs on his album “Heartbeat,” plus two remixes and a jingle from the Local Talent Show with Bhawanie Singh. The Fans voted him “Artist of the Year” over leading Singers from the NY/NJ/CT area. George continued working on his second album which was scheduled to be out 2001 but cancelled when his budget ran out. His last recording was in 2004 but updated his trademark song “Girl from GT” in 2013.

  Song: You're the One
  Singer: George Nandan
  Music: Avi-Supertones
  Video: Meli Singh
  Theme: Based on his True Love Story
  Models: George Nandan, Kaminie Nandan (2016).

            







Looking back GTI George started to write poems and it was a classmate who inspired the song and capped off by the loving response by his wife in the second stanza. These two ladies are forever engrained in his heart as the catalyst who first believed in his artistic abilities. Many followed suit. George does not believe in redoing other songwriters’ works and refused to redo Bollywood songs like the other Chutney vocalists/singers. He believes that the hard work of songwriters must be respected.  George is a member of BMI and Artistic Academia. Has copyrighted numerous songs with the Library of Congress and has a blog on Google at georgenadan.blogspot.com featuring numerous Boyhood artistic stories. A few of his poems were featured on Poetry.com with one on the current list. More will be posted on this site as George gets the time.

Lake Sumter State College, the Junior

college of University of Central

Florida where George Nandan

currently attends.

           George Nandan considers himself as an Advocate against Domestic Violence. He is perhaps one of the very few if not none of the current Chutney Artists that discusses this issue. Many Chutney Artists writes lyrics that inspire other tendencies instead of honoring women. George took another approach of using redemptive Love Story to inspire men to be better husbands, boyfriends, fathers etc. You may not hear his music being played by most West Indian Djs and he does not mind because he is not into personal artistic glory.

George Nandan advocating against

Domestic Violence in 2016.

            George’s future is to cont. in college in pursuit for his Nursing Degree- RN-BSN, writing poems, songs, screenplays and do Gospel Chutney. One of his goal is to make it on the New York Times best Sellers List.







Asked for something inspirational, George gave this picture.

I believe that says it all.

End.

Story # 8 “Singing the Thieves Away”
Rivision #1 11/08/13

"Acknowledging  and putting to good use the challenges our parents endured for their children's sake...priceless"   George Nandan 

To present this short story with some sort of clarity, allow me to bring you up to date on my First Hero, my Dad. Dad was born in No. 79 Village, Corentyne Berbice. At the tender age of 9 years old his parents brought him and his elder brother to live in Meten-Meer-Zorg, West Coast Demerara. Grandfather died very young and left him under the care of his elder brother and my Grandma. As you will see Dad is the original Trailblazer in the family. I am very grateful to inherit such amazing hereditary traits and tendencies from both my parents. In my previous short stories I mentioned that Mom is one of the “Original Chutney Aunties-Drummer” of the Sixties and Seventies of the bygone era of Canal No. 2.

As a young boy, Dad never had the opportunity to go to school. But that is no excuse for his relentless pursuit of happiness. One thing for sure, back in the days Dad loved pretty girls, and when he was introduced to Mom, he could not resist this premium fair skinned and simplistic Bachelor’s Adventure, East Coast Demerara beauty.

Dad upon learning Mom’s tragic loss of her parents married her and brought her to live in a place called “Jagoo Backdam.” There my first four siblings were born. Because of her lack of education also, Mom somehow bore the brunt of male denomination and convinced Dad to migrate to a place called Canal No. 2 where a legendary Headmaster by the name of “Teacher Budhoo” was in charge of educating Canal’s students.  Kawall Primary School has a long memorable history and its reputation was known throughout the country at the time. 

                                                                 

                                     2013: Dad with his Bachelors Adventure Chick...

                         Mom. Together 62 years and counting...

Despite his elder, relatives  and friends' objections in relocating to Canal No. 2, Dad made the choice to stand by Mom and put educating his children a priority. By now you may know that he is a Pioneer and enjoys any challenge life throws at him. When they came to Canal No. 2 in 1964. They had to start from nothing, literally. Knowing nothing about my Dad’s boyhood skills, the village laughed at him when he started to circumvent our long of mostly swampland into ‘Fertile Soil” suitable for planting. Back then his “drainage” system and burying “Jamoon Tree Wood” to create Canal No. 2's first successful “Trailer Track” in swampland became the stuff that only dreams are made off. He continued to defy the odds by producing “Sugar Cane” along with ground provisions, legumes, fruits, etc, year after year.

Anyway, now that you have the backdrop to this story, let’s get to it, shall we? This particular time of year prior to sugar cane harvesting. Dad would also have specific crops growing at specific intervals between his sugar cane crop and would even alternate between them also. This time it would be beans, bell yams and eddoes. Black eyes peas, bora (bodi) to be specific. Now we had a towering spice mango tree among others in our backyard. After school it is my favorite tree to climb and pick mangoes. I could see over all the houses and far into the Backdam. As a kid it’s very dangerous with the breeze up there but I inherited the adventurous spirit, didn’t I?

On one particular afternoon, I did my usual after school preparation of mango snack. I have to take my two bulls to take to the Backdam to graze. Now my chores were like the Never Ending Story. It was chores, chores and if you call within the next 30 minutes, more chores!  My elder brother Lull was in charge of supplying “Fireside Wood” but he would abscond his duties and it was up to me to stock up. Boy, I tell you if you ask him now he would certainly deny it and claim he does not remember. In my teenage years my bro-in-law Chico would help me out with the Firewood chores. Did I mention that I had to water my Dad’s vegetable garden before school and when the sun goes down?My two sisters Indie and Seerie who were younger than me would often help me.

So back to my story, I untied my two bulls as you may recall Tarzan and Whitestar, called on Rover my dog, and proceeded on the trailer track to graze at the Backdam. I grabbed one of my watering plastic buckets so that on my way home I would bring back some cow dung for my sister eldest Chan’s flower garden. She never seem to stop bugging me to steal Dad’s manure and lime for her flower garden always. By now you know I not only sing but can play drum on anything that makes a sound so hence the plastic bucket.

Dad felt disrespected when people started stealing his crops. If anyone knows my Dad he is a very generous soul. He would not mind people putting their pride aside and ask him for his produce. After all how much bell yam, black-eyes peas and eddoes can we eat? Even Mom could not keep up selling them at her stand at Vreed-en-Hoop. So on we went the bulls and I. I got started doing my usual, singing a lineup of Bollywood songs while playing a nice rhythm on my bucket.

Rover as usual would proceed ahead of us and I was too caught up with my act that I did not notice he stopped and was wagging his tail. Apparently he sniffed out something that did not made him bark but excited. I and the bulls were merrily strolling down our trailer track when all of a sudden; Dad came out from out of our sugar cane field with the look of betrayal on his face,

“Waa yuh du Bai,” he blurted out angrily. (What are you doing son?}

“Yuh sing de thief man dem away” he snarled at me. (The thieves will hear you singing and make their get-away.)

 I was so startled and embarrassed (busted) because many times he warned me to be quiet when I graze the bulls so that I could catch the thieves in the act. I had no idea that he came home early from Wales estate and was hiding to see who was stealing his crops.

Honestly, that was my plan, to let the thieves hear me and make their get-away. I will be too embarrassed to face whoever is doing it anyway and my Dad could sense this. After calming down he said he would have confronted them and take whatever they were stealing himself and give it to them in at their home and anytime they want, they can ask him first. Dad to this day is a man of Principle and still my Hero.  

Never the less, he relieved me of my bucket so I was left to carry on singing without my instrument. I was happy when he took off for home and selected some nice sugar cane with my cutlass. After all my two pieces of sticks I used as drumsticks were waiting for me on my tall favorite Jamoon tree in the swamp anyway so it was just a bump in the road for me.

There are many instances where I was embarrassed for singing by individuals or for trying to sing. I would never succumb to the notion that people can dictate my life.

Dad is a pioneer and in honoring both him and my Mom, I too chose not to take the ‘Path of Least Resistance” by redoing Bollywood Melodies but rather make my own, good, bad or ugly, it’s mine. After all I am my Father’s Image…….

   

Me (GED) pursuing my BSN (Bachelors in Nursing)

    Truth be told. Parents only want their Kids and their descendants to be independent and happy. To achieve this we need to be lifelong learners and never give up in improving our socioeconomic status. Until next time I shall see ya...................On the interim usual please excuse my grammatical mistakes...

Story # 7:
Strange but True! The Origins of “Chutney” from Canal No 2!

      What? You may say, what has Canal No 2 has to do with Chutney music? OK! Let me re-introduce myself to you. I am George Nandan. My birth name is “Nankissure Raghunandan” AKA “Sunny.” The youngest of the ‘Raghunandan” boys. I was born at Lot 23 South Section, Canal No 2 Polder. Currently Christ Ambassador Church under my brother Pastor Harry Raghunandan (Paulo) from Holloywood, Florida is the Senior Pastor. (This church does not represent the interests my family but is on its own).  A Dutch designed village in the county of Demerara. Located in the small English speaking country of Guyana, North of Brazil and East of Venezuela. The Canal itself was dug by African Slaves.

"Creativity is the essence of life"

George Nandan

       One of our young ones asked me for a true story, from my boyhood days to write for her school assignment. It got me thinking! What can I tell her so that it sounds bizarre but true? The origins of “Chutney” from Canal No 2! Oh yes, Canal No 2 has it’s played a vital role in “Origins of Chutney” too. You are not going to “Read all about it or hear/watch all about it” from the media. What in the world! How can this be? What are you saying George? Yes and yes and a more resounding yes. So now that I got your attention, let me go back in time to prove my point.

           

Me in 1983 when I left Canal No. 2


 

Me in 1990 when I visited Canal.

      This true story is and was before the days of “Christ Ambassadors Church,” before Morocco’s Variety Store,” most weddings and probably still now, were that of the traditional Hindu faith. As I recall invited or not, the whole village was in a joyous mood. The neighbors were simple and very resourceful sharing everything they possibly can. When the suitors doing the “Agya-wok” boy and girl decided that they “liked each other” is settled. This sets off certain chain of events, that only a Hindu wedding can feature in a typical Guyanese village atmosphere. Next came the influence of the “Pandit” that according to the Hindu calendar will guide the parents to an appropriate wedding date. As the wedding date approaches, arrangements are made to start gathering all the necessary ingredients and/or materials. Such festive occasion calls for everyone around to be assigned different duties to perform.




       As a little Canal Dude, I remember going on many such adventures with the elder Dudes to locate and find “Bamboo that is used exclusively for making the “Maro,” especially for the ceremonial big and tall one is raised as a token of the marriage union for all to witness.  These also included the “Puri” leaf. I probably still got the marks on my skin from the scratches from my puri-leaf adventures. Bear in mind that I have not visited Canal No 2 since 1990 and do not know if such traditional practices have endured to this day or some version of it. 

       The best part/s of such an auspicious occasion depends on the individual. I was asked for mine so I will tell you my favorite part. But if you paid any attention to my amateur style of poetry, songs and writing, you would know that I will have to pre-condition you and explain before I transition you. You may say ah! What’s the point in all this? But read on! My friend read on! It’s the “Maticor” singing session.



Me...Artist of the Year for "Original Works" in 2000

 
      Certain rites must be performed by the “Dullaha-to-be,” (Bridegroom-to-be), and “Dullahin-to-be”, (Bride-to-be). If I am lucky to be on the “Dullahin-to-be” side, then that’s where this story mostly takes place. In one of my other stories I briefly wrote about this. This event had my attention and peaked my curiosity, “Curious George.”  Hence my reputation to be later named “George” by my eldest sister Sharon Naraine formerly “Gowrie Chandra Raghunandan.”

    My father was one of the top “Ramayan Dolak” players at the time in Canal No 2. My mother took no back seat and developed into one of the best “Maticor Dolak,” players also. Dad taught mom “Hindi,” which brings me to the point, when they would disagree and argue, they would do it in Hindi to this day. I was the only one that knows some Hindi so they would stop and wait for me to leave before they resume. Of course I would hide close by and listen in. I was curious Mon! Here in America they call it 'being nosey."

Receiving Original Artist of the Year Award
from the Big Man himself back in the day!

        In my ancient Boyhood days Canal No 2 used to be graced by the likes of Sohani Combo with my cousin Indira from Wales, De-Originals from Georgetown along with The Merrytones among numerous others. I have had reports of the Naya Fasana Band that formed and performed after I left Canal.. But in my boyhood days there were certain talents such as the In addition to my cousin singing with Sohani Combo, my parents in music at the time, my elder brother (Paulo) playing Drupattie, Sundar Popo and Ramdeo Chaitoo songs on our Cassette Player not to mention Ishri Singh, Sunny Mohammed and Pradeep Kumar who in my opinion laid the foundation for our modern DJs to express their artistic interests.The Sookoo brothers (Bobs, Pranko and Son), Maticor nights, singing all the Patriotic songs at Kawall Primary School, vocalizing Bollywood songs at GTI, etc, that influenced my poetry and songs and ultimately fueled my ambitions in the arts. Did I mention singing on my favortie Jamoon tree while the cows graze? So, now that we got through those out of the way lets ease our way into the story.                                                                                                                                                                                  

Me in 2004. The year I retired from
singing.

       How many of you remember “Auntie Gangadai”? Heads and David’s mother? Some of you that were around would if not find out who she was. She is part of our “Canal No 2 Artistic History.” If Canal No 2 had an Artistic Hall of Fame, she would be the first inductee. Now Auntie Gangadai was the unofficial “Real Maticor Chutney Queen” of Canal No 2. Not Queen Yasmin. The Canal Gyal song was sung by many Aunties since the fifties and sixties outside of Canal No 2 whenever a Dullahin got married and taken outside of Canal. It was a song intended in the begining to mock and tease the Canal Dullahin that she does not know anything else but "Chunkay Plaintain". At the time Canal was known as a farming community with "Paggase) fertile soil.                                                                               

         How do I know? Well ask the senior folks from in and out of Canal. I was curious wasn't I?  Remember I was a “Sybala” and pretty good looking one at that, so the elder girls and senior ladies don’t mind having me around accompanying my mom as the dolak carrier. I even accompanied my dad and learned to play both styles of dolak, Maticor and Ramayan to this day. See my other stories on those. Getting back to Auntie Gangadai and my mom. My mom was her Dolak player of choice.Auntie Gangadai was my favorite singer. She was unstoppable at the time. When it comes to singing my mom was no slacker. She would help the other senior ladies back up Auntie Gangadai, while playing the dolak and singing too.

Me and Avi-Supertones Band 1999

        Before we proceed any further, let me ask you a question. How did this “Chutney” thing ever got started anyway? Test your knowledge? If you have not learned the true origins of “Chutney?” It’s OK Mon! I was there, so I can tell you from experience. In the early seventies, Maticor nights in Guyana and probably Suriname and Trinidad, took on a whole new meaning. In Canal No 2, the senior ladies of the village were well respected and cherished for their experiences in life. Auntie Gangadai was like a ‘Mai,” Mother, “Nannie” Maternal Grandmother and “Aji”, Paternal Grandmother. She will captivate her audience. 

        Now these groups of senior ladies was the early unsung and unnoticed “Pioneers of Chutney.” Now OK! George or Sunny or whatever you choose to call me, you may say, that’s your opinion? Of course I have one too but read on! What were they singing? That is the question? Isn’t it?

Avi and me 2013. After recording 'Girl from GT" song.

       Well! Did you figure out how I was able to observe and benefit from this special event on Maticor night yet? One, I knew most Hindi, so I understand the lyrics. Two, I was my mom’s privileged dolak carrier, so I have exclusive backstage pass. Three, the senior ladies had the guts to defy the religious establishment.                                             

       I admired those Seniors Aunties and how they defied the odds. They came up with ‘Romantic and Erotic lyrics in Hindi” and made unofficial songs about the anticipated sexual experiences between the  (Dullahin (Bride) and her Dullaha (new Husband).” Case on point, can anyone remember the singers “Drupattie” and “Ramdeo Chaitoo?” They were among the first recorded artists among others of early chutney, along religious aspects. How about “Sundar Popo?” Well they are credited for starting modern day chutney. 

Yep! Me in 2014

        Well! I would beg to differ! It was these brave and unconventional Senior Aunties such as Auntie Gangadai from Canal No 2 and her counter parts all over Guyana, Suriname and Trinidad that really defied the odds and did anger the religious status-quo. Yes once again, I was there so I know. At the time of this writing my  mom is still alive and can confirm my silly claims.

       Which brings me to this point? Do you think Chutney Singers these days are as creative and bold as those precious Aunties of that bygone era were? What would you write? If you have to do a school paper? How would the Senior Aunties feel that the unintended “Music Genre” they solely created, is being watered down ? Out of respect for their efforts and a tribute to their memory, I chose to remain an original, true to the romantic and erotic nature of the lyrics they intended.

       I recorded over 18 original songs and counting with Avinash Singh Leader of the former Band I was a member back in the day. My latest song "Girl from GT" remains unmatched for melody and lyrics and has earned the respect to be made into a movie. Yes filming will also be done in Canal No.2 as well.

       Any song can be arranged in any music form. Now that you know the true origins of “Chutney.” You can do your part of spreading the word so that no one can, especially from India can mock us that we do not use our brains to create our own music. These Aunties paved the way by standing up to their “Domineering husbands” and the “Religious Status-Quo” of their day. I did my part that also went unnoticed just like their efforts. Remember “All that glitters is not gold.” This is just a Dude’s opinion that remains true. An Original Talent 

     Many thanks for your kind words and support. Please take the time to learn our Heritage and pass it on to our Young Ones. If not they will seek other avenues to fill that void...My personal observations of course.......I am around them a lot these days in college so I get a first hand view of their missing cultural identity!

Story # 6. A Snake, Three Mangoes and my Favorite Jamoon tree.
By George Nandan (2012)

Just to give you a backdrop to this true story. I will tell you a little about my first Hero, my Dad. Dad is a book all by himself. President Obama wrote a book “Dreams from my Father.” I believe every father could be a subject including mine. Many people have disagreed with my thinking that Dads are crucial to a child’s upbringing.

"Imagine a world without Love. Now Imagine a family without love! Not good for the human soul."

George Nandan

As a boy growing up, I observed a lot of things from the grown up males around me. They simply were not taught how to express their love and appreciation for the ones closest to them. From a young Boy, I took the time to go against the grain of the times; and chose not to join with my friends to smoke and consume alcohol. Just to prove that I am a man or what we call in Canal (Force Ripe…lol..)

Coming back to my Dad, he was in many ways unconventional. Our land in Canal # 2 for the most part is swamp. Dad used a system of drainage that revolutionized the intervals of swamps and made them into crop producing land still used to this day. Folks may even recall him making a raft from Etay Palm trees to transport his “Ton Wood” in the Conservancy; with our two bulls.  But that’s another story for another day. He used the same to make a bridge for “Back Line” also. Still another story for another day.

Jamoon trees were the norm all over our land in those days. Dad took his axe and went to work on all of them. He literally dug them out of from the stump to make room for his Sugar Cane crops. Now what I remember from my Boyhood days is when I reached the age of eight years, my life became as busy as you can get.

 Take a look at the figure below, these were my main tasks. You will see that each time I got the opportunity to develop my talents; it was like I won the Lottery especially listening to the following bands from my boyhood days...

		Sohani Combo
		Merrytones
		De Originals
		Dil Bahar
		Melody Makers among others...

I have decided to write this because like any Father, I am struggling to maintain my connection to my college age son. Mostly because he is under the assumption that I would never understand the challenges facing Teens and Young People in general.

Well, permit me to make a statement here. In my line of work, I have spoken to quite a few young people who attempted to take their own life. They had one common denominator. They do not feel “CONNECTED and/or LOVED” by their families. I know I am supposed to keep this about my artistic journey. As you can see I am artistic and do have many hidden talents.

Anyway this is a Cat: 2, Item c) related story. After school (Kawall Primary), my immediate chore is to take our two bulls; Tarzan and Whitestar to graze in the swamps in the “Backdam”…lol. Now since dinner is not ready at that time 3:00 pm in the afternoon. I had to snack on fruits to keep me up until about 6:00 pm when I bring the bulls home. Cattle have to eat nonstop for about 3-4 hours before they are full. Then they would relax and chew their cud for another 3-4 hours.

At the time in Canal, some sort of fruit is always available to eat, from cashews, oranges, mangoes, sugar cane, pineapple, etc. This time around mangoes are in season. Mangoes are one of nature’s best kept secrets. Rich in anti-oxidants and electrolytes for the heart.

I put together my plastic, just in case of rain. I untied our two bulls, yoked them together on the “Juwat”,..lol.. and connected the slide; and started to proceed to the spot to let them do their thing. The ‘Bull and Slide” was a normal thing back then. On our way I stopped to picked three mangoes from our Spice mango three to snack on in our backyard. I chose the best three and continued my journey.

One of our bulls, I named Tarzan. He is very special. He was born and grew up with us, so I was very fond of him. More adventures with Tarzan in the future. By the way he hated my youngest sister Serena (Seerie) for good reason. She used to tease him and he would actually walk in the first floor looking for her to 'buut' her....lol. We finally reached their grazing spot at the end of our sugar cane field in the swamp. I untied the bulls and let them proceed to start their dinner while I did my usual. 

I left  my snack of mangoes at the bottom of my Favorite Jamoon tree; and climbed up with my plastic to my favorite limb. Now I would already have selected in my mind, the songs I would sing. I had about three hours to kill anyway, no Cell Phone, Texting, MySpace, IPod, Facebook, YouTube and Internet Mon…lol… So off I go…O Mere Mehebooba, mehebooba…mehebooba…(Oh My Love!) in English! Tuje jana hai.…etc..and then more etc…. In between I would reach out and select whatever juicy Jamoon I could get and snack on them. Being alone in the Backdam with every kinds of sound from the bushes, some pleasant and some was not my favorite. Too many jumbie stories Mon!

I was not hungry so I sang in intervals for about two and a half hours. A few rain sessions (Passing Clouds”…lol…But I was ready with my plastic to cover. I had about half an hour left to prepare my bulls to come home. I called on them to head back as I have trained them to obey my commands. They started their way grazing in my direction. I came down the tree and I sat on my slide; and started to snack on the first of my mangoes. A strange thing happened. As I was eating my second mango, I noticed the grass (Jewgrass) moving in a particular pattern. I sat facing on the Eastside of our land,  the trailer path where the slide is, was located on the West side of our property. It could only mean one thing…SNAKE! I was frightened but kept my cool because I thought he would just go by their merry way. Anyway I had my 22" cutlass ready for action. 

The chap had other plans, he was so barefaced that he kept coming closer. So I decided to get call it a day and meet up with my bulls. I proceeded to walk around the opposite direction where my Dad dug one of his drains. It is his main drain of his drainage system. This  drain ran in the middle of the land so as to not enrage the neighbors. Dad is a Master when he it comes to drainage and irrigation systems. As I started running at the edge of our middle drain to get past, I glanced down and saw him crawling on the ground. At the same time he lifted his head.That scared me to the point of leaping higher in the air. I screamed because of his size and he plunged into the drain and he came in the same direction as me and at the same time as I was cursing his mother, father and every cuss word I know. I ran as fast as I could. After some distance he was not around and probably decided I was not worth the trouble. Remember I was just ten years old at the time.

This got my bulls attention, and sensing I was in some sort of danger, they hurried to meet up with me. As I reached them, Tarzan gave me a funny look, took one swipe at my hand and knocked down my remaining third mango. He proceeded to eat it himself while still looking at me. It finally sunk in, Tarzan meant to tell me, "why are you so stupid? All the snake wanted was your mangoes; that’s why he was following you". I guess animals know how an animal would think. How am I to know?

For a split second I saw how  beautiful the colors of the snake was. It was a “Kamakari.” It had the typical orange, red, and black colors. This thing was beautiful and scary at the same time.  I would not have cared how beautiful it was, if it would have attacked me I would have chopped his head off. What I do know, this Dude has the reputation of being too brave especially the males.

Tarzan had compassion for me and bent his head to the ground and stooped his front shoulders forward. I actually witness him coming into this world. Yes, right at the Backdam. I trained Tarzan in the aspect of riding. I would ride him into the swamp land so I can avoid being scraped by the scrubs.  That is his signal for me to climb on his back and he would bring me to the slide and we can come home.

There is a tropical fly called “Cowfly” that is so annoying to cattle and the darker it gets the more they come out. They can pester the bulls ruthlessly. So Tarzan and Whitestar were ready to get hitched and start their sprint home. Yes they would sprint to shake off the cowflies. With me on the slide.

As we approached the slide, I on Tarzan’s back he did something I would never forget. He started snorting loudly and stomping his feet on the ground. Later I realized that was his way of communicating that I am not by myself and if any animal want a piece of my mango or me for that matter; they would have to come through him. I also noticed Whitestar pacing ahead attentive and looking at every movement. These are my two Boyhood pals plus Rover my dog who refused to come with me that day. Animals are precious and care for you if you care for them.

End.

Thank you for taking the time to read another one of my stories.