THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

There really is a place called Naxalbari.  It’s a small town with its own tiny railway station and state highway, straddling the route that links northern Bihar to northern Bengal, through forest, farmland and tea gardens.  But the Naxalbari of revolutionary grammar is really a cluster of villages and hamlets with quirky names from nature and history: Hatighisa, after elephants; Phansidoea, literally, hanged; Bagdogra, derived from bagh or tiger.

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We’re quiet as we go through Naxalbari town.  It’s run-down, dusty, a blur: sweetmeat shops with fly-blown offerings, some temples, ubiquitous chai shops.  A couple of tin-roofed movie theatres with curtained entrances advertise with posters of buxom women; their enticement has drawn large knots of youngsters.

Chakravarti/Naxalite