In American culture, I am told by my American friends that “relaxing ” and “inlaws” are rarely found in the same sentence 🙂
Relaxing on a Sunday afternoon by the pool with some old “Anurodher Asar” Bengali songs with my inlaws…
So far we are 3 for 11 in terms of recognizing the old singers. My mother in law is blaming the sound speakers for that 🙂
By the time we showed up for this art exhibition where Sharmila is an invited artist, one of her paintings was already sold. I was taking a few pictures on my iPhone of that painting with the Sold tag, when a lady came up and said “Please do not take a photo. I already bought it” (I guess she was afraid that I might make copies of it or something).
So, I told her “It’s okay. I have a lot of photos of this painting. My wife is the artist” 🙂
“Oh! Then it is okay”, she said, relieved.
Anyways, I got hold of Sharmila and introduced her to her patron and customer 🙂
This morning, I had one of those dreaded very early morning flights. I had put my alarm for 4:15 am. Turns out I did not need to bother. Due to my ongoing jetlag, I was up by 3:30 am already.
Got ready, came down and hailed a cab by 4:45. And told the cab driver to take me to the nearest Starbucks first. In about ten minutes, we were there. The Starbucks had barely opened. Bought him a coffee and got myself one. And then started chatting with Naftali, my cab driver on the long drive to the airport. I am glad I did. He was very funny and extremely knowledgeable.
I asked him about Uber. As you know many cities are trying to ban Uber (I guess this is cutting off the revenues that cities get from selling those taxi decals). I wanted to see what he thought about this new emerging competitor. I was stunned by his in depth financial analysis of why Über is good both for the customer as well as people like him. I learnt from him that Maryland is in the process of giving license to Uber to operate. He will become a Uber driver then!
I was so impressed by his analysis that I asked him about his background. Turns out, he is from Kenya. Given the strong connections that India has with Kenya, we quickly found some common grounds to talk about. Cricket, of course, was a common interest topic. I understood from him that Kenya’s soccer is in a bad shape because it is a very politicized institution. But they are big rugby players.
I noted that of all the former British colonies that adopted cricket, Indian subcontinent is the only part of the world, that never adopted rugby too. He had a prompt analysis for that –
“You know why? Because you guys are too skinny”.
I laughed out loud.
“No no, you guys have great genes. Your girls are so beautiful”.
“Really?”, I asked.
“Absolutely. But you know what I do not like about the skinny beautiful Indian girls in Kenya”?
“No. But do tell me”
“Man, they never look at us. Indian girls will only marry Indian boys. They never marry us”
I laughed out so loud this time that I almost spilled my coffee on my lap!
Found out that he is one of eighteen siblings. Eighteen!! His dad has two wives. Simultaneously. I was almost going to ask him if the punishment for multiple marriages in Kenya was multiple sets of inlaws but I bit my tongue. Here is another interesting fact I learnt. Kenya is 86% Christian and they are now legalizing polygamy. There is a law that is getting worked on for this. I was pretty surprised. I was wondering whether the gender ratio was messed up so bad that they had to make a law for this. Found out that by prevailing customs, the eldest wife got the lion’s share of inheritance. To bring equity and fend off future problems, this law is being passed to make sure all wives get equal parts of the inheritance.
From there we moved on to my favorite subject – geopolitical issues. After understanding how much effect the challenges in Ethiopia, Eritrea and Somalia are having on Kenya, I asked him about corruption. Of course, it is high. But I learnt another thing from Naftali this morning.
“We copied one thing from India on this front”
“And what is that”? I asked.
“We have set up shame sites”.
“Shame sites?” I was bewildered.
Evidently, in Kenya they have websites where you can post clandestinely taken recordings of people taking bribes and post names and stories of bribe taking incidents to shame them in front of everybody including their families. I did not have the faintest idea that this is a common practice in India!!
By this time we had already reached the airport. It was very early and I could not find anybody nearby to take a picture of us. So, I took a selfie of us!!! And promised to give him business next time I am in town.
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 🙂
And that concludes our 21st wedding anniversary.
Sharmila thought it was our 22nd.
My mother in law berated us for our drinking.
My father in law had a few sips of gin and tonic when my mother in law was not looking.
Sharmila and I went to relax with our “family outside our family” – friends at Milton’s.
… in other words, nothing has changed in 21 years.
I still awaiting my third ring of marriages (after engagement ring and wedding ring)… suffering 🙂
“Ekushe Aayeen”
The Rule of 21
In Shiva’s homeland, the rules are quite strange, as I can truly attest,
If someone slips, and falls by err, police come by to arrest.
Your ordeal continues inside of a court room,
Where judges are ready to fine you a fortune –
21 rupees is the price you must pay,
but wait till you hear what they charge in the day –
for sneezing before six, a ticket is needed,
without this in hand, you will be ill-treated –
they beat you like drums, and snuff up your nose,
you sneeze not just once, but 21 blows!
The fine for teeth-chattering is 4 rupees flat,
for growing a mustache a bit more than that –
a hundred nickles, paid out in cash,
plus 21 prayers with both hands clasped.
While walking the streets, your steps cannot wander,
a step left or right and the king is called yonder.
He summons his guards who come in with a run,
to force you to sit while you sweat in the sun.
There is some relief, as they offer some water,
unfortunately so much that its not worth the bother.
But this isn’t the worst of it, by any means really,
for those who write poems, their punishment is silly,
they’re placed in a cage under strict lock and key,
with no chance of exile, or option to flee.
A hundred Orrisans are placed, so it’s fabled,
proclaiming exhaustively the multiplications table.
And then there’s more math as you tend to a store,
account for the sales – it’s a menial chore.
One last offense, that’s punishable by law,
Is snoring at all – it’s seen as a flaw.
The glue from a bilva tree, the dung from a cow,
It’s all used quite viciously, here’s how:
they rub it in coarsely, the hair of an offender,
who’s tied to a tree and spun like a blender.
For 21 spins he goes round and round,
and 21 hours till his feet touch the ground.
Translation by Sujoy and Chandana Chatterjee
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!!!
In the annals of my intersection points, this would go down as one of the most unique ones. For a simple reason. For the first time, I actually met Kanta!! We have known each other for the last nearly 30 years, written letters to each other but never actually physically met.
Till today!!
Let me see if I can piece this together. I have attempted at a graph too…
Line 1: I had a friend during my school days called Shukla. She had a room mate in college called Kanta Lahiri. I had become pen-pals with her thru an introduction from Shukla
Line 2: My best friend from school days was Avijit. He was also a common friend with Shukla. He later worked in Apollo hospital in Kolkata. He moved on later to Perth, Australia.
Line 3: My dad had his knee surgery done a couple of years back at Apollo hospital by a surgeon named Dr. Chatterjee
Line 4: Last year, I traced Kanta down in Facebook. Avijit Bose noticed my new friend.
Line 5. And he put all this together to create the mega coincidence. Kanta is married to Dr. Chatterjee!!! Because, Kanta also had worked in Apollo for some time!!!
The simple equation is: my pen pal is married to my dad’s surgeon. But I needed a few more people in the equation to get the tenuous chain together!!
It was a perfect meeting!! I wish I had some more time to talk to her. Our discussions covered every point in our chain (some more than others 🙂 ), our professional lives (she is a very accomplished executive), health deterioration of our parents/in laws (we had similar experiences with depression in family members) and then my inevitable question – “What life lessons have you learnt that I can benefit from?”
I had promised this old friend from college days – Hena – that I would visit her when I am in India. I missed my promise last couple of times. Not this time! Met her after 1988. (It was at her home. Her mom had made omelettes for Debotosh and me). Also had the good fortune of meeting her husband Kallol!
Caught up with her parents, siblings, common friends and such. The best part of our discussion was exchanging data on a null hypothesis I have: students who did well in studies in our old Indian education style (the one I grew up with) and students who later met with success in professional life are by and large negatively correlated!
