Obama & Nobel : Follow Up

My wife heard this in her school last Thursday; a conversation between two Indian kids of the VIth Standard.

Student 1 : Hey, did you see Obama getting the Nobel ? My daddy said it's a joke.

Student 2 : Shut Up !! Don't say anything rotten about MY President.

Student 2 is a proper Tam-Bram Indian (who we both have sighted on more than one occasion having dinner @ Banana Leaf with his family, with Sambar dripping way down past his wrists), whose only connection with US of A happens to be the fact that his father was posted in Seattle for 1 year, well before his (student's) birth.

What has the world come to ? What have we done to our kids ?

Me - The Nobel Laureate To Be

Realization has dawned today upon me.

If he can win the Nobel peace prize, then so can I.

Next year I would win the prize for my exemplary contribution to the world of "Carbonic Wastes and Fusion Technology" - for constant emission of gaseous matter with the smell of Hydrogen Sulphide, disproportionate to my levels of consumption.

I have absolutely nothing against our man and the efforts that he is putting in, the 'novel' (read nobel) ideas that he is bringing onto the board, but I mean, come on, this is THE Nobel Prize that we are talking about here.

What has the world come to ?

No more is there honour, not even among thieves.

Sad, but true.

A Dream

I had a dream.

I had a dream last night.

I dreamt that I had fallen inside a deep well full of murky water and all my near and dear ones were standing near the well. Peeping down. And commenting ....

• Ronjha Moyee – Oke ekta bra ene daaow … or bra r dorkaar. Shiggirii ..
• Sujata – Hyan re Ronjha, O pore gelo ?
• Kuurchi – Gampaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ... !!
• Baba – Hmmmm … pore gelo dekchi …
• Ma – Thik i toh !
• Pop In Law – Oke ekta O2 diye daaow. Oi neeche nongra jol khaabe, pet kharaap hobe
• Mom In Law - Jiboner nana otha-pora jeno gaaaye na laage. Shurobhito Antiseptic Creame Bororlin !
• PG – Ronjha, make sure when he speaks to the rescuers, he does so in Queen’s English. Nice boy !
• Jethi - "Jaaaah, kaawsh ki ryaaa ?" (Suitably accompanied with a' ppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee paaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrr pip' sound)

PS :

• PG was my English tutor during the Don Bosco Kolkata days to whom goes the credit for my love for English languague and literature.
• My mom has a habit. Each and every sentence of hers start with "Thik i toh". Suppose someone tells her “jaano kakima, ami na aaj bus stand e daariye daariye naak khute, naaru paakiyechi” …. Amar Ma sheta shune bolbe … “Thiki toh .. maaaaane ???? Emamaaaaaaa !!!”
• Amaar shoshur moshaai works for Cadilla, and as with all other people working for a pharma company, he has an uncanny ability to suggest 5 different medicines for so simple a thing as a headache. And O2 is his favourite drug for all water borne diseases.
• My dad is one of the most reticent humans I have ever seen in my life. The most extreme of his reactions to ANYTHING is a pause of 5 seconds and then “Hmmm … “
• My jethi is a compulsive farter (is there any such word ?). A dozen farts a second, we have actually grown up with the bhuurrrrrps, pyaaaaaa, pooooooo, piiiiiip, piii-puuuuuu ... And all along she tends to believe that noone can make them out. What she singularly refuses to appreciate, till date, is the fact that on account of the geographical distribution of flesh @ posterior being not in the manner best warranted, the sound does comes out and horribly so.
• And lastly, I have not the foggiest idea as to why Ronjha said what she said !! :-)

An Old Photograph & Some Thoughts

Baba,

Ektu aage I was flipping through the old snaps. Of you and Ma.

Choto belaar kotha mone pore gelo.

Aaaj khub brishti porche. Khub. Jhom jhomiye, akaash kaalo kore. Khub baaj o pore ekhaane.

Baaj porle. Megh daakle, amaar khub mojaa laage. Chotto belaar sriti hoi-hoi kore pheere ashe. Choto belay amra jokhon groom er chuuti teh Daadu r okhaane jetaam, tokhon khub brishti petaam majhe majhe. Mamabari ta shotti kintu ekta veritable chiriya-khana chilo. Humans as well as non-humans. Daadu r ekta posha kochhop chilo mone ache ? Naam abaar chilo Biirpuruush. Tini uthon-moy daapie beraten. Ami kheltaam onar shaathe. R Ma checha-toh .. “Babai !! Oke ghetto na !! Uuuff .. r kotodin bolbo .. r bhalo laage na. Baba ashuk porshu, ami jodi na bolechi, dekho” … Mone ache, tumi ashaar shathe-shathei shuru hoto complain … Jaaihok, ami toh kotha shuntaami na … Kochhop take khochataam … ekta loma paat-kathi diye .. Tarpore Dadu ekdin amake bollo je kochhop jodi ekbaar pa kaamre dhore, taale naaki chaare na .. Jotokkhon na megh dakche. Tarpor theke ami r oitaar tri-shimanaay jetaam na joddin na brishti hoto.

Ekhon megh daakle, baaj porle, amaar choto bela abaar phiire ashe. Keno jano ? Kuurchi ta boddo bhiituu … Baaj porlei amaar kole jhaapiye ashe .. Bhoy e. Ami prothome bhabtaam nekamo. Taar pore dekhlaam shotti shotti bhoy paaay. Ekdom kuukre thaake. chokh buuje. Amio kortaam eirom. Tomar koler modhhe much guuje pore thaktaam, mone ache ?

Boyosh je hochhe bujhte paari aajkaal. Bhalo laage ek ek shomoy. Feel mellow(er). Chaar-khana daari shada hoyeche. Bhaloi laage.

Ebaar ekta chotto Shameek / Kuurchi laage. It would be swell to watch the kid grow up. Jano, aajkaal bhalo laage bhabte. Ekta labradaor thakbe. Naam hobe Chomchom. Laffiye jhaapiye beraabe. With equal gusto our kid would also gambol along with the dog. Ektuuow bhoy paabe na, borong Chomchom ke ottyachaar kore maarbe. Ami chupchap sofa teh boshe boi porbo. Ekta chokh odeike thakbe, jate kamre na dey kukur ta (oboshho, amaar chele hole, oi beta kukur take kamrabe) … Kuurchi komore achol pechiye ranna-ghor e ranna korbe. Haathe, mane nokh e holud – tel lege thakbe; chicken ta marrinet korte diyeche just, taai. Ghor moy luuchi r gondho berobe, shaathe alu-r torkaari – breakfast (chicken ta lunch e hobe, Sunday toh). R majhe majhe eshe boka diye jaabe …. Amakei naturally

Ei je, “rambling” chaalu hoye geche. Ami bodhoy r paltalaam na.

Amra ekhaane bhalo achi. Khub. Tomar mone ache Baba, biyer din shokaale jokhon “biddi” korchile tumi, tokhon ami paashe boshechilaam. Amake tuumi hotaath bolle “Babai, you have been a good man. Now try and be a good husband. Priorities need to change.”

Ami jaani na whether I have been able to be a good husband. It’s too early a time to comment. But the best part is that I am not having to “try”. It’s coming naturally. The whole day I count the hours till the time I can go back and spend a quiet evening with Kuurchi. That itself is so fulfilling. And I must commend her compatibility. Ei bhaabe nijer baba ma r kach theke uprooted hoye, settling down in a city which is totally unknown to her without any known human being – calls for a lot of courage.

Amader bedroom e complex er adho-aalo ashe. Janala diye. Kuurchi ghumoy amar buuke matha diye. O khub taratari shue pore. Ami toh nocturnal. Amar ghum ashte deri hoy. Light nibiye diye, aadh showa hoye, baalish e helaan diye, amar buuke rakha Kuurchi r mathaay hath bolaate bolaate, oi aadho-alo r ondhokaar e choto-belaar kotha bhabi.

Ekta odbhuut bhalo laagaaay buuk ta bhore othe. Kaauke bojhate pari na. Tokhoni koshto ta hoy. Ami beshi kichu chaai na jibon theke. Just a little peace, which has been alluding me for long. Ekhon peyechi “peace”.

Muthooy kore rekhechi dhore.

Anguul er phaak diye golte debo na.

Kichhhuutei na.

Pronaam Nio,

Babai

PS : @ KG - I tried. And now I realise I should not even have tried. Nowhere near your piece.