What the 6km run in 90%+ humidity and 90 degrees Fahrenheit giveth,
The Luchi-aloor-dum-begun-bhaja-aloo-bhaja-makhamaara-sondesh breakfast promptly taketh away.

If it is not deeply fried or dripping in sugar, we don’t serve it for breakfast at our house 🙂

The real irony? My dad thinks I should save my knees and stop running. This, from somebody who has had a heart attack and suffers from sugar and kidney issues!!!

So, when I ask my parents to pose for a picture, they put up their stiff grim faces on. Today I taught my niece (their grand daughter, my sister’s daughter) how to operate the camera in my phone and asked her to go take some pictures of my parents.

She had them eating out of her hands. Look at the picture. My dad has not a clue what he is doing but he is trying his best to copy the V sign his granddaughter taught him to flash when she took a picture of them!!! 🙂

And if I had tried that? “Dekh-ge ja”, he would have said. 🙂

The best part is undoubtedly sitting with dad early in the morning in the patio watching the dawn unfold with the birds waking up … Absolutely with no spoken words between us except pouring tea for each other.

The second best is sitting in the evening with my siblings and brother in law with some cocktails made by yours truly. The photographer here is my niece and she had strict instructions on what our poses needed to be 🙂

Made a couple of cocktails at my sister’s home today. Before long, the sum total of singing talent (or lack thereof) of my brother-in-law, brother and myself were brought to the fore by an engaging three hour Antakshari (it is a duel of songs where you have to start a song with the same letter as the last letter of the previous singer’s song’s first stanza).

We would have continued with the rampage had it not been time for me to jump onto office calls with US…

Nothing can shrink my inlaws further in their airplane seats than the prospect of having to talk to the stewards and stewardesses regarding what would they want for their meal. My father in law, at least, puts up a spirited fight. Often, therefore, landing with stuff he had no idea that he had ordered. But he is a good sport – and he will try out a little of everything. My mother in law, on the other hand, pointedly refuses to deal with any of these stewards or stewardesses with anything but head shakes. Which, for any foreigner can be very confusing. Indians are famous for their head shakes. And my mother in law is famous for not getting to eat much in flights. Once in a while, she will recognize something that she knows – e.g. Tea and would order it with great anticipation. And then spit it out after the first sip – because she was expecting tea done exactly the Bengali way. “Era cha-tao bhalo banatey jaanena” (“these folks don’t know how to make a simple cup of tea!”)

A stewardess came and asked them after the meal – “Some digestives?”. Not exactly the way I would have put it, but the packets in her tray clearly showed the picture of aniseed. The next two minutes was a sight. Both of them, totally flabbergasted, looked at the lady, at each other and then across the aisle, towards me. Not in a hurry to finish the fun, I just kept smiling back. Eventually, my father in law said “one” indicating he would try some. And as the lady moved on, I mentioned “Mouri chhilo” (“That was aniseed”) (a very common after meal mouth freshener cum digestive in India). Let me put it this way, my mother in law made me call the lady back so that she could grab a few packets!!!

This being the state of affairs, you can only imagine their reaction when they found out that the last course of meal in their last meal in the last segment of flight (Dubai to Kolkata) was “rosomalai” (a delectable Bengali dessert). The entire inner Bengaliness of their last four month existence outside Bengal was channeled – vigorously, I might add – on that one course!! In the picture, you can see them devouring those hapless plates of rosomalai as if “dhorey praan elo”. Those rosomalais vanished in front of my eyes faster than I could say “Aar ektu mouri neben?” (“Want some more aniseed?”). 🙂

This is the MBA student’s fourth quadrant version of Dancing with the Stars 🙂

My siblings are such great fans of dogs (and kids, btw) that they will buy street dogs biscuits (cookies) every time we have tea at the roadside stalls. Here you can see my sister playing with a street dog near the temple that we took our dad to.

The dog seems to be getting its groove on and enjoying the dance with my sister as another dog waits for its turn 🙂

Waiting at DC airport, I called up mom to let her know we have reached US safely. I was expecting her to talk about all the fun we had while I was there – all the trips – or maybe give an update about my dad or might be even ask about my flights.

But no!

The first thing she said in a remorseful voice moment I said “Hello”, was “Issshhh! chholar daal khaona holo na ebar”. (She forgot to cook a particular dish for me!!!)

Not sure of all moms – certainly all Bengali moms think that way!!

There is a snippet from an old Bengali poem which is very appropriate..

“….. hey mugdho jononi
Rekhecho Bangali korey; manush koroni” !!!!

But I am sure I speak for all Bengalis when I say we will not have it any other way!!!

I had gone inside mom’s kitchen for something, I cannot even recollect for what. But under a pile of stuff, I thought I recognized something. I saw the broken footrest (that narrow wooden piece between two adjacent legs of a stool that you put your foot on. Is there a proper word for it?). That looked familiar but something was different.

So I put all the pile of stuff down and immediately recognized the stool. It obviously had been repainted but I distinctly remembered that broken footrest… and therefore the stool. Pulled the stool out in sunlight, cleaned it and took a few pictures.

This is the stool that, in its prime, had seen great many speeches given by some great orators (okay, mostly me) to a rapt and attentive audience (okay, mostly my brother and sister, but we are quibbling over details now). This stool was one of our favorite props for many a game we used to play – over 40 years back. This was what we used to climb up some trees and on the roof of the cowshed. And this is what I used to give my speeches to my siblings. This was also used as the “winner’s stand”.

I particularly remember that last part because there was this one day when – and the details of the exact game that we were playing escapes me now – we decided that all three of us had won the first prize. So, all three of us were going to get on the stool. Which was not a big deal for a stool made of “segun kaath” (see next para), but I do not think it was built for all three of us to step on the same footrest together in an attempt to climb to the top of the stool simultaneously. One snap and three bitten tongues later, we got a sound talking to by my dad which rapidly and unceremoniously got us down from the winner’s elation 😉

This time I asked my mom about how old the stool was. Found out that when my dad and mom got married, my mom’s dad had gotten a carpenter to make a few pieces of furniture from “segun kaath” (I am not sure what the English word for this tree is but it is a very hardy and durable wood) and gifted my dad. That stool was one of them. So, apparently it was born in 1965. Seems to be still in very good shape nearly fifty years later. Except for that one broken limb 🙂 What a great witness to our family’s history of 50 years!!!