After my Graduation result was out sometime in August 1977, in Nov. I left for Deolali in Maharashtra, where my brother was working, to look for a job. In the meantime, my brother's father in law almost found a Govt. teacher's job for me and I thought life would be a smooth sailing. I was also toying with the idea of settling down in a quiet place with my beloved after marriage and love will be the only binding factor between us but providence intercepted on the appoinment. With this my thought of getting married with the loved one came to an abrupt end. My brother also gave a piece of his mind on a lesson how not to start a life with someone rich and who led a richer life style. I was humbled.
As finding a job in Bengal was a herculean task, he asked me to come to his place of posting at Deolali. Having no other options open, I had to embark on this journey for an unknown future. Possibly it was in November in the year 1977 that I took a train to Kharagpur. My friend Nihar and my father came to the station. Father came to see me off and Nihar thought my father was going. When the train just started, I touched my father's feet and jumped into the compartment and said good bye to my friend. He was looking at me with awe and could not believe that I was leaving Bankura once for all.
At Kharagpur Rly. Station I had to wait for about 7 hours for the train to Mumbai via Deolali. I had no reservation but just a travel ticket. The person who was at the enquiry counter there was giving out information before the enquirer would complete his/her enquiry. I wondered how he remembered all the details of so many trains running from and through Kharagpur. Presently 215 trains run through this station. The general compartment was full to the brim. I had to push through the crowd and finally could find a place to stand. Whole night I stood and the next whole day some time I could share a seat with some one and day after evening at 5.30, the train reached Deolali cant. station My brother came to receive me. Thus ended my worst train journey in my life.
At Deolali my shorthand instructor, a Christian gentle man by faith, became very friendly to me and did not charge for the course. I would help him manage other students. During my stay there I would quite often go off to the hills and spend hours in solitude looking at the hills and distant villages. In the evenings I would go to my brother's club and play carrom with other staff members. The best player in the club once got defeated without any score and it was a great fun. Many a days I would sit quietly on moonlit nights as there would be complete silence around the place where I was living.
For the first few months, I was taking my food at the Officer's mess of my brother. But when no job was forthcoming, he advised me to cook for myself and eat whatever I could manage. Although it was a difficult job to manage getting vegetables from the market, cooking, clean utensils and my clothes, going for my shorthand lesson, prepare for tests in a new environment where I could not speak the local language Hindi. I did go for UPSC tests in Bombay three times but for results we had to wait for 3 months for shorthand tests and interview before I could get a job. I had also gone twice to Allahbad for two tests one at Narora Atomic power project and the other one at Uttar Pradesh Public Service Commission. All the written papers (except at Narora) I had appeared for resulted in my success. But time was running out. My brother told me if I could not get any job by Sept. 1978 I should go back home. I was determined not to go back. My experience at home had been very bitter as my sister-in-laws would be fighting day in and day out and I would be pulled physically to take sides.
An advertisement from the Times of India, Bombay edition gave me an opportunity to join the Vivekananda Kendra at Kanyakumari and I left my temporary home at Deolali on the night of 5th Sept. 1978 jumping into an uncharted waters. My life at Deolali came to an end.