kachher manush..

“Tui bhishon banglay bhabish aar banglay likhish. Tor engreji lekha gulo shob banglay bhaba. Kirom bhyeto bangali tui!” Ekjon eta khub bole amay. (Blog na, oke lekha love letter poreo eta bolto!) Amar je tatey etotuku lojja nei, borong bhishon gorbo seta bojhe bolei bole hoyto. ‘Bheto bangali ekta!’ Gaalir modhhyei je koto ta ador lukie achhe shey bojhe? Bodhyoy. (Ma-er ‘phajil ekta’ bolar moto, tai na?)

Bangla font download hochhe na. Nanan hyapa. Tai engreji font ei likhchi. Banglay.

Ek soptah hoye gelo Bombay esechi. Bhulei gechi berate esechilam. Paanch din tana  hospital, ICU, osudh, nanan nol, dactar, raat jaga…..

Dujon khub kachher manusher ekjon hospital e. Amar mesho-sosur aar mashi sasurir sathe Bombay asha..oder meyer kachhe. Amar ek colleague bolechilo “tor meshososur ager jonme tor baba chhilen ba boyfriend. Ja possessive.” Shunei shanti hoechilo..ki jani keno.

Nursing home e shuye achen. Gyaan hotei bolchen, “Parama, ghhum hochhena tomar raate, tai na?”

Kachher manush…

*****************************************

Mashimoni. Somporke mashisasuri. Kichu manush ache jader ami jwarer jwal-potti boli. Mathay chhoyalei araam. Mashimoni. Serom.

Eta bolei ekta purono kotha mone pore gelo…prothom alaaper onek pore, tokhon amar bieo hoe geche, Mashimoni ekjon ke bolchilo. “Bier agey, Parama jedin prothom amader bari ashe, sedin o nije nije fridge khule swandesh ber kore kheyechilo. Tokhoni bujhechilam o bhalo meye.” Bou hishebe bhalor maap-kathi etotai soja mashimonir kachhe.

Taare zameen paar. “Tujhe saab hein paata, hain na ma?” gaanta hochhe tokhon. Ondhokor cinema hall. Paash theke keu ekjon duto seat topke rumal egie dilo. Ami ghure dekhini ke sheta. Jaantam.

“Toder bachha hole thakur ke daakbi, sudhu gayer rong ta jeno tor moto hoy, aar shwab features tor borer moto. Tikolo naak, lomba, sharp features.”

Ami: “E abar ki? Amar ki rong chhara kichui bhalo nei? Tumi perfect baaje sasurir example”.

“Achha, mon tao tor moto chash tahole”.

Ami: “tumi amay ektuo bhalobashona.”

“Bashi bolei chai tor bachha sundor hok”

Aar tarpor eke oporer gaaye dhole pora hashi….

‘22shey Srabon’ dekhte dhukchi. Barbar oke bolchi, “Doya kor. Prochur gali ache cinema tay. Tor barir loker pashe amay boshashna.” O sune bollo, “achha tahole Mashimonir pashe bosh.”

Tokhon interval.

Mashimoni: “Ei tui eto aroshtho hoye boshe keno cinema dekhchish? Ei sob kotha ebong taar mane ami jani. Amader barir ulto dike ekjon oshhobhyo lok thakto, roj raate mod kheye bou ke petato, gali dito…tar mukhe ami ei shob kotha sunechi!”

Jaaak. Ebar seat er opor pa tule babu hoye boshe baki ta dekhi tahole…

Jokhon Bombay aschi plane-e, ki anonde chilo Mashimoni. Na thik meyer bari jawar anondo bolchi na. Meghh dekhar anondo!... “Megh gulo dekh Parama, eta volcanor moto, ota vanilla icecream, eta gas bondho korte bhule gechi…dudhh uthle porche, eta toshoker tulo pitie rakha…eta dudh saabu…”. Ami heshe lutoputi. Jeno ami 5 bochhor er bachha! Je bolchhe shey nijeo. Tarpor bole, “tor megher opor haantte ichhe kore Parama? Amar kore. Haantle mone hoy paa er byatha sob shere jabe amar”…Ahare. Bechari. Koto byatha kore paaye.

Ekhono korche hoyto. Ekta single patient-party r khhate amar sathe shuye achhe.

Aar ekta jinish dekhe bhishon ador ashe amar. Meyer jonno Kolkata theke jinish ana. Notunnotto nei kichhu. Baire meye thakle sob ma rai bodhyoy egulo nie jay..tobuo. Bhishon bhalo lage amar. Bori, Jhorna Ghee-er boro botol, mathhay makhar narkol tel, ilish, taaler bora, Dulal er taalmichri, Jowaner Arog....Egulo toh Bombay te pawa jayna! Tai.

ICU waiting area. Tension, chhutochhuti te amra dujonei bidhhosto. Doctor eshe dekhe gelo. (Doctor er dosh: Uni young!)

“Doctor er barite dekhechilam onar 4 te gari”.

Ami: Hya. Tar modhye ekta abar Audi. :(

“Nishchoi gari korei hospital e visit korte esechen.”

Ami: Tai hobe. Keno?

“Na. Tahole Gym-er bag ta garite rekhe aste parten. Ota kadhe kore ICU te anaar mane ki?”

Ami: Ema. Tai to!! Amio notice korechi.

“Hya, toke notice koranor jonnoi to koreche. Impress korte….dekho ami gym jai”.

Ami: Chhiiiii. Tomar bor ICU te, aar tumi earki korcho?

“Tor sathe je bhabe kotha bolchilo, bhoy hochhe dactar ta toke niye palale, tor bor ke abar na ICU te bhorti korte hoy!”

 

Nursing home-er room. “Dekh to Parama, TV tey Star Jalsha ashe kina!”

Mesho sosur ke jedin General Bed e shift kora holo sedin. Onake Mashimonir expert advice: “Parama onek koreche amader jonno. Tar mane ei noy je bubai er bou ele tumi take kom bhalobashbe. Khobordar! Partiality korbe na. Takeo eromi bhalobesho.” (Bubai = amar dewor)

Eta shune ami aro dosh goon beshi bhalobashlam Mashimoni ke. Notun kore.

Sosurbarir keu ‘o amar meyer moto’ bolle je kono bou er gorber sesh thhake na. Amar to generally life niye gorber awnto nei. Tai notun kore bolchi na seta.

Mashimoni konodin eta boleni. Bhabtam keno boleni?

Oromi kicchu ekta boleche etodine. Etto dine! “Parama amar chheler moto.”

Nursing home e boshe achi. Amar college er ek bondhu tar bhishon priyo kichhu line BBM kore poralo. As Good As It Gets. Purotai likhchi:

“I might be the only person on the face of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth. I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do…..and in every single thought that you have, and how you say what you mean, and how you almost always mean something that's all about being straight and good. I think most people miss that about you, and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you bring their food, and clear their tables and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive. And the fact that I get it makes me feel good, about me.”

Mashimoni, nao, ei line gulo tomar …

The 'Just Married, Please Excuse' Contest

This is an old post (not a very old one) which I want to pass as an entry for this contest. I had named this post “Speechlessness” and reproduce it here with a few edits.

The contest requires one funny incident from the just-married phase, while my post is a series of conversations, if not events. My rationale behind that is, (i) inspite of being married for almost six solid years, I can still pass “married” with a “Just” prefix and (ii) funny conversations with the other half are events enough in my life. (Do I sound desperate for an autographed book! Yes. Who cares?)

Here we go!

The characters in the conversations are married to each other (No prizes for guessing). P, the better-half (and obviously, the woman) and J, the other half (the man).

P: Do I look slim in this dress?

J: Can I be honest?

P: No.

J: You look like an hour-glass.

P: Ok. Honesty is the best policy.

J: Plump.

P:

******************************************

P returns from some work.

P: Wassup?

J: Now that you are here, you know what is up. (winks)

P:

******************************************

P: Hey you remember that first time we met?

J: Of course. How can I forget that? (sarcasm to be ignored)

P: Tell me what was I wearing?

J: Nailpolish.

P: What was I WEARING?

J: Earrings.

P: I am not Kate Winslet.

J: Oh that reminds me. I had better things to check about you. Sorry didn’t notice what you were wearing.

P:

**********************************************

P (singing loudly): “subhah hone na de ..shaam hone na de…ek dusre ko hum sone na de”…what do you think of the song? I love it.

J: It reminds me of our suhag-raat.

P:

P:

J: Lights off. Sounds off. Camera off. Action! (evil grin follows)

P:

*****************************************************

P (after watching Kahaani): I wish I was Vidya Balan.

J: You don’t need to. I find you better.

P:

P:

P: You sure? Or you drunk?

J: Sure. I mean she is way more beautiful and all. But it’s like, Beer works better for me on a June-afternoon, than a Blue Label. Like that.

P: Whatever that means.

J: It means facts. Don’t mistake it as a compliment.

P:

P:

*****************************************************

P trying a dark eye make-up, a.k.a smoky look.

P: How do I look?

J: You look like Johny Depp.

P: Whaaaat??

J: Johny Depp. In “Pirates of the Caribbean”. (concentrates on the newspaper).

P:

********************************************************

P seen here, wearing a dress which has all the colours of a rainbow and teased by random horny men on the street.

Men: Holi kaab hein? Kaab hein holi? (followed by wicked smirks)

P: J, they are eve-teasing and Eve is your wife. Stop them.

J (matter-of-factly): Tell them na, Holi is in March if they are asking you so many times. (and looks away)

P:

***********************************************

P: It’s so late. I don’t think we’ll get a Taxi.

J: Wait. I’ll hide somewhere. You stand alone on the street. Remember “akeli ladki khuli hui tijori ki tarah hote hein”. Taxis are bound to stop. Then I’ll jump in.

P: This is how you use your wife???

J:  Yes. Now do what I tell you.

P:

P:

***************************************************

P complaining.

P: Someone told me my nose resembles that of a PUG!.

J: Pug? Vodafone kutta, you mean?

P: Don’t make it worse. Just Pug.

J:  Who said? Tell him or her, I like honesty.

P:

P:

J: By the way, that’s your cutest feature. And the comparison makes it cuter.

P: :)

************************************************

Similar conversation.

P: Your Mama (uncle) says my eyes are like a cow’s. Meanness is hereditary.

J: But it’s a compliment. Cows have beautiful eyes.

P: Never thought about it. Oh yes.

J: Told you. Better, do something about your double-chin before people start comparing it with that of a cow. (Gabbar Singh laugh follows).

P:

P:

**************************************************

P: Am I your Personal Secretary? Have you kept me ONLY to do all your work?

J: Yes. What else?

P:

J: You can also sleep with me. Like Personal Secretaries. (winks away to glory)

P:

********************************************

They flip through their wedding album.

J: With so many of your relatives surrounding me, reminds me of something.

P: What?

J: Gulliver’s Travels.

P: 

******************************************

In the midst of a serious discussion. P fuming.

J: You remember what was Oliver Twist’s best friend’s name?

P: How is that relevant? Anyways, whaat??

J: Master Bates.

P:

*********************************************

P: If you ever had to have an extramarital affair, whom would you want it with?

J: Ladies first.

P: Irfaan Khan, may be?

J: Wah wah.

P: You?

J: You.

P: :)  

**********************************

Happiness…

When I was a little girl, I read in a joke book, that happiness is like shitting. The relief in dispensing your bowel effortlessly is one of the greatest happy moments (especially when you are constipated). I could not agree more.  

As I grew up, I realised happiness is more about the simplest and run-of-the-mill things. The happiness in a bird’s twitter after a heavy downpour; the voice of Birendra Krishno Bhadra on a Mahalaya dawn, getting up at 5o’clock ONLY ONCE in an entire year (and every year) just to hear that voice; the ‘slurp’ sound while eating boiled Maggi and licking the plate when no one’s looking; Dairy Milk advertisements; the feeling of getting into a bus, standing infront of a particular seat and finding that the passenger would get down at the very next stop….these moments of happiness are what I call moments of a thousand butterflies…

**********************************

A friend comes home, a packet in her hands. The typical Bong gesture of ”haate mishtir packet”. I snarl, “Why did you have to get these? Why formality?” to which the friend replies, “Not sweets. Ice-cream.”

Me: AAAAhhhh. What’s the flavour?

Friend: Orange Sticks.

**************************************

One day my bladders were bursting. No public toilet in the vicinity. When told, my man offers me incessant “Ssssssssssss” sounds to make it worse. I thought I would die of busted bladders; my mind almost stops working. And, then…. I see a shopping mall at a distance!

**********************************

Years back, when I was mostly in school dresses, I had started dating this guy who asks me out one day.

Me: I haven’t waxed my legs. I don’t think I can meet you.

The guy: I am anyways not interested in footsie today.

Me: No generally, I don’t want to turn you off so quickly.

The guy: When we get married to each other, I will have to tolerate unwaxed legs for years. Let’s practise.

This was perhaps the first time he spoke of marriage. And then hardly spoke about it later. The man falling onto his knees, taking out a solitaire with a “will-you-marry-me” statement never happened in my case.

But “let’s practise” happened.

**********************************

I was getting late for office. I knew I had to avoid Park Street and take a shorter route. A dumb driver and an unmindful me made the same mistake like EVERY DAY. We took the car into Park Street inadvertently and saw. There was almost no traffic jam!!

I reached on time.

*************************

I usually know what I have ordered on Flipkart. No surprise business. So, when the box gets delivered, I should be just happy.

But the bubble wraps! ‘Just happy’ turns an understatement.

**********************************

My obsession with the music of Hemlock Society is at times disturbing (for me). “Amar motey tor moto keu nei” plays on re-re-re-play modes. One day I felt a little weird and guilty. I haven’t played the radio since ages! Radio has always been my first love. I quickly change the car audio from CD to FM. Radio Mirchi plays …”koto bar tor ayna bhenge chure…..”

*********************************

A bird had carelessly dropped a few seeds of karela (bitter gourd) in our garden. It was unnoticed, uncared for unless the plant started showing up and wrapped its tendrils round the grills of our window. Time passed and fresh green karela would hang from the plant. Bitter Gourd never looked better and so sweet.

I wondered why I was so happy? Was it because it was effortless and just happened by chance?

Yes.

********************************

Reading old Gtalk chat histories. Period.

*******************************

I love songs when sung abruptly, and NOT from the first line. The man and I would endlessly sing Hindi movie songs from the second/third paragraph and the other one would have to guess and sing it from the Mukhra. We have done it so many times on long tours.

My tastes are very orthodox about the way Rabindrasangeet is sung. I am not fond of too many experiments; I have strict reservations for particular singers. However, the fondness mentioned in the paragraph above, applies to Rabindrasangeet as well (yes, I am very surprised too). Ornob’s version of “Majhe majhe tobo dekha pai” is one such song. But that’s not my point.

“Shankhabela”. Uttam Kumar. Madhobi. Cloudburst and ”Jani ney, jani ney…kichute keno je mono lagena”. Yes. That’s how the song starts and flows into “Aji jhoro jhoro mukhoro bador dine” (which is the first line)… One of my favourite rain-songs. Not for the music. Not for the lyrics. Not because God created it. But because it starts abruptly, and NOT from the first line.

*******************************************

 My sister-in-law returns from College Street with bags full of books for her four year old. Aesop’s Fables, Thakumar Jhhuli, Haada Bhhoda, Nonte Phonte, Batul –the Great and the likes.

She keeps a Haada Bhoda, Nonte Phonte, and Batul –the Great each, separately.  Looks at me and says, “These are not for the daughter. These are for you”.

****************************************************     

Me to Doctor: This whole baby thing bothers me. When will I have a baby?

Doctor to me: The best things always take time. And arrive the last.

******************************************

We two had an agenda. When we hadn’t married. We would date at all the places where our respective parents had dated. Putiram, Paramount, Dilkhusha, Coffee House, Sangu Valley and the list goes on.

Scene 2:

We were married by then. And revisited Sanghu Valley (Bhawanipore). Sanghu Valley has two kinds of sitting arrangements: cabins with curtains and normal ones. (During our courtship days, it is needless to mention which arrangement we preferred).

None of the cabins were vacant. The waiter insisted that we take normal seats. What surprised me was, the two of us said in UNISON: “Na, amader cabin i chai” (we want cabins)!!

The waiter gave us a “I-see-secretaryr-sathe-office-kete-noshtami” look.

His expression? Priceless!

*************************************************

My brother-in-law had once told me, “As college kids, just standing infront of Dakhhini made our days”.

(Dakshini is a music-and-dance school in South Calcutta)

Me: Suddenly? Why Dakhshini?

He: “Chyatang Chyatang kore Enreji bole je swob meyera tara taanter sari pore naachte, Rabindrasangeet gaite dhukche…dekhei heat khetam!” (In short, girls from English Medium schools. Speaking fluent English. Clad in sarees. And Rabindrasangeet!).  Bliss, it is!

*******************************

My senior colleague in office howls at me all the time. Other than work, he thinks I am good for nothing. The most untidy, clumsy, the most politically inaccurate, the worst cook in the world, emotionally screwed up…in short I am a shame for mankind.

Scene 2:

I was waiting for my Rabindrasangeet classes to begin. Met my senior’s wife and started chatting. Suddenly the senior appears. I was expecting him to howl at me again (Trust me, he scolds me for no reasons at all).

He handed over a handful of Champa flowers to his wife.

It was so romantic, that I choked.

He handed over another handful of Champa flowers. To me.

Me faints. Almost.

******************************

A friend had bought a car. Every month the EMI would get deducted.

A few years later. In a particular month, no EMI gets deducted. Not anymore.

The car is all his.

**********************************

I was back from a wedding which my mother-in-law did not attend.

The most predictable questions expected were:

“Was the bride beautiful?”, “What was the colour of the Benarasi she was wearing?”, “How was the food? Mutton or Chicken?”

But NO. What she asked was : “Did you get an extra paaan for me?”

*********************************************

Baba gives me an old book where I found this.

Happiness. Yes, that's what I call it!