Took the inlaws up to the top of the Stone Mountain today. They were pretty thrilled with the whole experience but in that hot sun with temperatures in the eighties, the ubiquitous sweater and the jacket never came off.

As thrilled as my mother in law was, she saw a parallel in India with everything she saw. The dense trees in the park? Just like Chandrakona. (I have no idea where that is). The larger-than-life carvings of Confederate soldiers on the mountain face? “Just like Sivaji”!!!! Even the bareback shape of the mountain reminded her of the shape of a rhino she had once seen in India!! It was hilarious as well as instructive to see how human brains essentially learn by drawing linear relationships with known data points it has learnt before!!

Meanwhile, my father in law went to the cafe on the top and asked the lady if they had coffee. She replied in the negative. Somewhat disappointed but not totally despondent, my father in law, in one of those “Let them have cake” moment declared “Okay, I will have tea”!! The lady gave a long stare and said “Sir, we have soda”. I hurriedly stepped in before he interpreted soda as what he uses to clean utensils in India and explained – “They have coke”. “With ice?” he asked. “Sure”, I said. “Then I will wait and have lunch at home”, he declared!

Dang! I had forgotten he was wearing a jacket!!! 🙂

Getting to know the inlaws’ history. We lit a fire outside, sat in the rains and traced my mother-in-law’s history. Armed with Google Maps, Wikipedia and the Search engine on the iPad, I have tracked down her pre-K school in Humgorh (remote village in Midnapur district), middle school in Khardaha and high school in Barrackpore. She is stunned by the satellite images of her school.

Made another promise. When I go to drop them in India, I will make sure she can go back in history and actually see her schools about six decades later !!!

There are indeed more moments to be created !!!

I had barely entered our house after the run in the rain this morning, when my mother in law started berating me. She looked me up and down, sized me up and asked
“Bristi-tey na hNatlei hochhilo na?”. (** did you have to go for a walk in this rain? **).

As you can imagine, like every self-righteous runner, I took total umbrage at her lack of confidence in me.
“hNatchhilam maaney? jeev baar korey aat minute-e mile dnourolam aar seta-key aapni hNata bolchhen?” (** Who you calling went for a walk? We panted our hearts out as we put in eight minute miles – and you think that was walking? **)

She somewhat relented.
“hNato aar dour-ou. Ei jhomjhomey bristitey aar keramati na dekhalei to hoto”. (** walking or running – what was the big need to show off in the rain? **)

I took the philosophical route – (btw, all throughout my childhood, I had addressed her as Masi – word usually used to address your mom’s sister – and I still call her Masi. Conversely, I call my father in law Kaku – usually used to address your dad’s brother)
“Masi”, I said “bristi-tey prokriti-r oporup rup dekhechhen? Sobuj gaach, chhoto nodi, jhomjhomey bristi, er moto o-kritrim soundorjo hoy? Na poisa laagey, na ticket kaat-tey hoy. Chhotobela-thekey to ma-masi-ra miley konodin bristitey berutey dilen na. Ekhon boro hoyechhi. Ekhon bristi-tey bhijey, jeev baar korey bristi-r jol na khele aar kobey khabo?” (** Mam, have you ever seen the resplendent beauty of nature as the green trees get soaked in glistening raindrops and the rivulets scurry along in heavy showers? You do not need money nor do you need any privilege to enjoy the pure natural beauty of rainfall. All throughout our childhood, you all moms and aunts, never let us go out and play in the rain. Now I am a grown up. If I cannot go stand in the rain and stick might tongue out to find out what it tastes like, when will I ever do it? **)

Thoroughly unimpressed, she said “Aar shorir bhengey porley ki hobey? Tokhon to Sharmila-kei dekhtey hobey” (** And what will happen when your health breaks down? Sharmila has to look after you, right? **).

By now, I was getting an idea about where this was all leading to. It was all about her daughter. Whatever I do, I should not create any more work for her!!! Now that I knew what the game was that I was up against, I knew how to play it. Completely avoided her line of argument and picked up the philosophy bit a notch higher…
“Aa-ha maasi, bhangtei jodi na dyan to notun korey gore-bo ki korey?” (** Mam, if you do not let me break it, how will I ever get a chance to build it anew? **)

Philosophy has nothing on an irate mother in law. “Beshi fyach fyach koro-na-to” boley uni gojgoj kortey kortey nijer room-e choley gelen 🙂
(she asked me to stop blabbering and stormed away to her bedroom constantly muttering under her breath) 🙂

The inlaws have been awake for most of the night. They have been watching NDTV on iPad following the Indian election results.

This morning at 7 am, they were still crouched against the iPad. And were constantly discussing something. So, I made coffee for all of us and came and sat down with them. Following their conversations, I realized something. They had very little real interest in the grand spectacle of the world’s largest democracy’s seminal moment of change of guard!

All they cared about is “What is happening to Didi’s party”? Didi, for the West Bengal (or for that matter any Bengal)-y challenged, is the affectionate name for Mamata Banerjee – the Chief Minister of West Bengal. Who, not unlike what is happening in India today, came to power two and a half years back after uprooting a party that was in power in West Bengal for multiple decades.

So, I asked them how much they cared about Congress versus BJP versus AAP at the Center. My father in law at least tried to show some interest – “Kono party onek din thaka bhalo na” (**nobody should be in power for too long**). My mother in law, in a perfect tribute to the old adage “all politics is local”, completely brushed me off – “taatey aamar ki eshe gelo” (**what is that to me?**) 🙂

As they kept discussing “Didi’s party”, I also realized something else. A lot of Bengali singers and actors have stood for elections this year. I had no idea that Bappi Lahiri (think of him as the Bengali version of Chris Christie with far more skills in copying other people’s tunes), Babul Supriyo, Munmun Sen, Soumitro Roy, Sandya Roy and such are political figures now. No wonder there is so much drama in West Bengal politics!

Since my mother in law would not pay any attention to me, I decided to push my luck. “Mamata-di ki korechhe aaj porjonto? Opposition-e chellano aar desh chalano alaada bepar”. Now, before I translate this, let me tell you – I have nary an idea about what is going on in West Bengal. I certainly cannot name you one more politician in West Bengal other than Didi. Armed with that near total ignorance, I took a potshot “What has she done till today? Shouting at the top of your voice while in Opposition is very different from running a country”.

My father in law knew me all too well. He just smiled and refused to take the bait. My mother in law? Not so much!! Like the normally docile garden snake that our lawn mower guy spotted and cornered on our street a couple of days back hissed and fought back in defense, my mother in law immediately raised her hood errr…. head and hit back. “Tomra sobjanta to”. (basically calling me know-all).

Then for the next twenty minutes I got a lecture on all the misdeeds of the previous government that held absolute power for multiple decades and how they had completely corrupted the system. And how it took somebody like Didi to fight back and “throw them into the Bay of Bengal”. “Ki sahos dekh onar” (**what courage she has**)

Which is interesting. For all the courage of Mamata-di she was projecting, my mother in law – who, in a rich irony, has the same name Mamata – has been cooped up inside our house for two days straight because of reports of a garden snake that our lawn mower guy spotted on our street 🙂

Second cup of coffee, anyone? 🙂

Today, Sharmila took my inlaws to the ultimate Mecca for all Indians who come to this country – that sanctum sanctorum that has to be paid its due visit if you are worth any Indian gene you might have. And no, I am not talking about Niagara Falls – that place is so overrun with Indians that I am sure they have declared it some kind of Union Territory of India or something. I am talking about our good old neighborhood COSTCO!!!

One round of walk up and down a couple of Costco aisles and my mother in law promptly canceled her evening walk for the day!!!! 🙂 She was devastated by the fact that you cannot buy one or two items – you have to buy twenty packets at a time (or so it seems to me).

But she was certainly pleased to be not the only person wearing a saree among a crowd!!!

I knew something was afoul when Sharmila said she smelt a rat. I had spotted a garden rat recently in the garage – which is a rarity for us since there is virtually nothing on the garage floor for them to hide behind. (All the stuff is inside the cabinets that are clear two feet above). The one that I had seen was actually moving around furtively around the ladder!!

Next day, I put in a few rat poisons near the entrance of the garage and evidently succeeded in two days flat. The problem is there was no telling where the dead rat was. Finally, I had to resort to those immigration and customs dog-like sniffing to figure out that the stink was wafting from behind the refrigerator.

Okay, I thought, no issues. Pushed the refrigerator out a few feet and found to my dismay that there was nothing – other than unseemly dust. It took me some time to realize that the stink was coming from inside the contraptions behind the fridge.

The next one and a half hours was a sight. The rat had certainly extracted its revenge on human beings. There was my wife in the front of the fridge pivoting it to the ground, my father in law pushing from behind to tip it forward and me on the ground trying to wedge the fridge with the stink coming straight at me.

Finally opened up the back panel and that dratted rat had firmly wedged itself behind the fan before dying! There was no way of reaching it. So, two sets of gloves, multiple screwdrivers, hammer, wrenches and miscellaneous other tools later, the rat was pulled out in the open! Somehow my wife and my FIL had a lot of work to run to precisely at the moment I pulled out the dead half rotten rat.

The joy of a job well done was completely marred by the intricacies of putting everything back together. Somehow, things come out pretty quick. They are just too stubborn to go back in. Took me fifteen minutes to position the fan and the initial two screws together.

Finally, when I had triumphantly put everything back together, I noticed that together with my tools, I had a couple of screws to spare!!! I was NOT going to open it up again. Just powered it up and it seemed to work. So, I left it there.

Richer by a dead rat and two screws, I could not but chuckle at the irony of three human beings having to put their intellectual might just to outwit a dead rat!!!!

Reminded me of an old Ogden Nash poem about how hunters make duck noise to attract ducks…

The Hunter
—————–
The hunter crouches in his blind
‘Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys
This grown-up man, with pluck and luck
is hoping to outwit a duck

Nikita singing the national anthem with her chorus group at the Turner Stadium before the Braves-Cubs game!!

The inlaws at Atlanta Braves baseball game. He has already asked me “Where is the boundary”? 🙂

*cricket guys will get this*