THE STRANGER

Life is made up of moments. Some small, some large, some sweet, some bitter. They come, they go. But some linger on, longer than usual,  and become memories. Today I am opening my memory vault to narrate a story that has left an indelible mark on my life. My university education along with the rich and inclusive Bengali culture had given me a certain secular outlook on life which I was proud of. But this incident changed it all. It made me question myself, and altered the course of my life forever….

It was the time of assembly elections in Bengal. I was on training for my election duty. My interactive session was over by 12 o’clock and we were instructed to assemble again by 2.30 pm. As I had enough time during the lunch recess I just looked for a quiet spot on the lawn, opened a novel and started reading. Through the corners of my eyes I could see a person who was sitting a few yards apart looking at me. After a few minutes he got up and walked up to me.

The Stranger : What are you reading?

Me : (For God’s sake just leave me alone) Oh! Just a novel by Agatha Christie.

The Stranger : Is it any good?

Me : (Why don’t you mind your own business) It’s just a thriller. Good way to pass the time though.

The Stranger : Can I sit here?

Me : (Fuck off) Sure.

The Stranger : Are you here on election duty?

Me : (No, I am here to sell pakoras) Yes.

The Stranger : What do you do?

Me : (None of your business) I work for a Nationalized Bank.

The Stranger : So they give election duty to Bank employees now. Huh!

Me : Yes, just my luck. What do you do?

The Stranger : Oh I am a driver at the local BDO office. How is life in the Bank?

I could see that this fellow was not going to leave me alone. So, I finally closed the book I was reading and we started chatting. After 15-20 minutes of conversation( if you could call it that, he was mostly doing the talking, and I the listening), during which we became fast friends, he pointed out that It was time for lunch, “Aren’t you hungry yet?”. “Indeed I am”, I said. “Have you brought lunch from home?”, he asked. “No, I have not”, I replied. “Let’s find a cheap restaurant to eat then”, he said. We agreed and together we went in search for a place to eat.

 After about a 100 metres we found one which looked clean and tidy enough. I was about to enter it when I heard my new friend cry out, “Don’t go in there”. “What’s the matter?”, I asked. “This place is not right. Lets eat somewhere else”, he replied. I was confused. I followed his furtive glance and saw the name of the place, NAZEER FOODS : Indian and Mughlai. Pure and Halal Food. Now I understood. My stomach was already growling and I thought, seriously, now we are going to play Hindu-Muslim at this point of crisis. I was about to say something when he again pleaded, “Bhai, lets go someplace else.” Bloody racist, I thought. But I acquiesced. So, we went in search for a sudh Hindu restaurant.  

Looking around I saw that this was a Muslim area. I was now in an indulgent mood.

Me : This looks like a Muslim neighbourhood.

My Dear Friend : Yes, looks like it.

Me : The place is swarming with these people. Slowly they seem to take over the whole city. It will be difficult to find a Hindu restaurant here.

My Friend : Lets keep looking.

So, we kept on walking. After about 10-15 minutes of walking a signboard greeted us: Radhey Shyam Hotel. At last. Hunger was practically playing a KKR vs CSK IPL final in my stomach. So we promptly ordered two plates of fish and rice (the quintessential Bengali delicacy called Maach-Bhat). The food was good and we had our hearts fill.

After the hearty lunch as we were walking back we noticed a shop selling paan and cigarettes.

My Dear Friend : Do you smoke?

Me : No. But you carry on. I don’t mind.

My Dear Friend : No Bhai, some other time.

Me : All the walking and searching for the perfect restaurant seems to have paid off. The food was good.

My Dear Friend : It was indeed.

By the time we were in sight of our destination I was very thirsty. We bought couple of bottles of Bisleri. As I was drinking the water my friend remarked, “It was nice meeting you.”

Me : I am glad too meet you as well. By the way I forgot to ask your name.

My Dear Friend : Mohd. Ansari.

My jaw dropped open…..

How I Met Your Mother

Prologue

Hey Buddy!!! Your mother has recently accused me of not being expressive enough of my love for her. Of not saying how much I love her and expressing my love on social media like Facebook with such terms of endearment as Janu, Sona, My Love, My Life, and not posting photos of her cooking with the caption Made by my Lovely Wife. I have always been a very shy and reticent person who likes to keep his thoughts to himself. But today I am going to tell you a story. This is a story of a simple village boy and a smart city girl, how their different worlds collided and became one. This is my story…Our story….of How I met your mother. The title of the story is borrowed from a popular soap opera but the rest of the story is carved from the pieces of my heart . You are too small to understand it now but one day you will grow up and read this and convey it to your mother and then she will understand…..

Chapter 1 : The Girl on the Platform

The story starts years ago on a train. I, a third year student, was travelling to Kolkata to join a tution class. As I alighted on the platform and was looking for my buddies, I saw this girl get off the train. As she passed me with a smile on her lips, a cool breeze blew across the parched valley of my heart. It was just a moment, an instant, and then it was gone….. she was lost in the milling crowd. My mates approached me and soon I was on my way to my classes with the image of this girl with a lovely disarming smile. Little did I know then that we were destined to meet again on the same day…and then again…. and again….. that the smile will remain with me forever….. and like the sun brighten up my dull days….….like the lode-star guide me through my darkest nights…..

Chapter 2 : And Here We Meet Again

It was my first day at the coaching centre. I promptly arrived and took the only vacant seat available. As I looked around , I was surprised to see a girl seated across the room…. The Girl with the Golden Smile, watching me her captivating eyes. I was intrigued. I wanted to know her name, to befriend her. But being a shy kind of guy who hardly spoke to girls outside his circle, I retreated back to the comfort of my cocoon. But, by the end of the day I somehow managed to know the name of my mystery girl….Madhumita…

I never believed in love at first sight. I still don’t. In subsequent days I formed a more clearer picture of her. A fair skinned Brahmin girl from a well to do family from the suburbs of Kolkata, thinking herself superior to the rest, living in her ivory tower and looking down upon and judging people like me from small town. Well I disliked her then. I normally was a chivalrous young man but I decided to adopt this cavalier tone towards her. We even had a few fights. One day as I was taking some papers of my friends to the get them xeroxed, she asked me if I could take hers as well. I was piqued. How could she just sit there smugly and order me around. “Can’t you get them done yourself? Are your feet made of clay?”, I quipped. We had our fight, but I got them done xeroxed anyway. For gods sake I was not a monster to turn down pretty girls….. I was just showing her a bit of my attitude.

Judging people while not sufficiently knowing them is a crime. And as time passed I realized the depth of my fallacy. It was not she who was judgemental, I was. She was just diametrically opposite to the image I had formed of her. It was my insecurity, a dark skinned small town boy hailing from a so called lower caste Hindu family, that I had projected onto her. It was fuelled by the endless chatter of her friends who liked to bitch behind her back…. welcome to the girls world (me being too sexist eh, well if its any comfort we boys do it as well). With time we slowly started conversing a little and started to know each other….. Our prejudices started to melt away……

Chapter 3 : The Proposal

She was this colourful vibrant young woman whom everyone desired. I was this reticent, brooding young man whom people liked to despise. My shyness was often taken to be a mark of my arrogance. There could not have been two different people imaginable. But they say opposites attract…..

I used to steal glances at her while pretending to be deeply immersed in studies. One day as I looked up at her, I saw her looking back at me. Our eyes met……Those deep dark eyes looking into mine….and I knew. I tore my eyes away… but something sharp had already pierced my heart. The cupid had cast its proverbial arrow. Focus I said, focus on your studies, you could not fall into love at this point. Concentrate on your studies, exams are ahead. Failures had taught me one thing in life - to focus on your goal. So, my mind said pay attention to your studies you fool. But the love bug had bitten deep and I could feel its poison run through my veins. I had to get it out of my system…. I had to let her know of my feelings…..

We used to find excuses to talk to each other. But we were always with a room full of people. I… we…. wanted some time alone. One day at the end of the classes I found her lingering behind. Her friends had left. I took my cue and took an unusually long time to tie my shoelaces. So, my friends also moved ahead. Finally we were the only two left behind. “Our friends seem to have deserted us today. Let’s walk together to the station”, I said. “Okay”, she replied in her sweet voice. So, instead of taking a rickshaw we walked to the station together. It was awkward though. We did not know what to say to each other. It was long silence….. a bit of forced conversation…. then silence…. anyhow we somehow made it to the station together. We parted ways. Stupid fellow, I said to myself, what were you thinking, you would be lucky if she ever talks to you again. But I could not be more wrong. We went for classes twice a week and the next day the same routine followed except that this time the conversation flowed more naturally. This continued for weeks. Had the others noticed? They surely must have, but at that time I couldn’t have cared less.

Our classes were coming to an end. Then came the Bengali festival of Neel Sasthi. I would surely propose to her on this auspicious day. But the words never came out. I cursed myself…… surely the next day. I was determined this time around. I started with light conversation. She seemed in an unusually cheerful mood. As we approached the platform time seemed to run out. I gave her a Subho Nobo Borso (Happy Bengali New Year) card. She seemed to like it. Say it… We were now on platform No.1 taking the overbridge towards platform No.2.…. Say it …. I opened my mouth to utter those three magical words…. “You know, today is my Birthday”, she said suddenly…. Oh Hell…. should I say it now? What if she says no? It would spoil her birthday and I would never be able to forgive myself for making her sad on her birthday……Next day perhaps….. But someone inside me cried out…. Be a Man, its today or never…. I mustered enough courage and asked her cautiously “Have you loved anyone before?”……. awkward silence….. Man I had blown this ….. After a long silence she said encouragingly “Actually I never have.”…… This was my moment….. I said, “You know how I feel about you??? Do you feel the same.”……..more silence…. Then slowly she replied, “You know how I feel, don’t you???”…..

That day when the train came to a halt at my hometown I was not on it. I was miles away with someone special. We had found love, and we were not willing to let it go. Though I couldn’t afford any expensive gifts, she afterwards told me she got her best birthday gift on that day .…… Love.

Chapter 4 : Things That People in Love Do

Love is a wonderful emotion. It uplifts you, transforms your dreary everyday existence into the ecstasy of Eden…….. But Love can also be a hard taskmaster, especially if you don’t have a penny in your pockets……

Vignettes

Scene 1: A couple is sitting on a bench on the Platform. Trains come… trains go….people are rushing by….they are oblivious….they just look into each others eyes….

Scene 2 : A railway overbridge….. a couple are having their first fight…. They are planning to go to a restaurant. They are arguing about who will pay the bill…. the boy wants to pay…. the girl offers to pay as she knows he doesn’t have a penny on him….

Scene 3: A boy and a girl are walking…..sometimes holding hands, sometimes apart…. they don’t know for how long they have been walking……they don’t know where the path will take them…. the girl is not used to walking, you can see her feet bleeding….but she doesn’t care…..they have each other…..

Scene 4 : A hot summer afternoon…. It’s 45 degrees outside and humid…. there’s not even a dog on the road….. a boy appears, holding an old rickety bicycle in one hand, a mobile phone on the other….he is soaked in sweat…sweat is running in streams from his forehead, his eyes are blinded by it….. but he is afraid to wipe the sweat from his brows, least the call get disconnected….. wonder who he is talking to…..

Chapter 5 : Enter the Villain

Every love story needs a villain…. I too had mine…only in my case the villain was not a person…. It was much more than that….. It was one of the Seven Deadly Sins….. My Sloth….

For four long years I had been living in a dream world. We had become so lost in one another that the outside world did not exist. But this dream bubble burst with the first prick of reality….. One day a call came…..“They are fixing my marriage. Today I am supposed to pose for my profile photo”.….

All Hell broke loose….my world had turned upside down…. “Hang on”, I said, “I will always be with you…… just don’t let go”…..

Thus began the most difficult phase …….the struggle to stay together, the struggle to stay alive…. of burning the midnight oil, of frantic searches in newspapers and magazines for jobs, of giving job interviews….. “Just hang on….don’t let go”……

Finally my Bela Bose*** moment arrived…… only in my case, my Bela was there on the other end of the line…..

Chapter 6 : A New Beginning

With the sounds of Shehnai, ullur dwoni and saankh I arrive^###, clad in the traditional Bengali Punjabi and Dhuti….. She awaits in an upper room in her red Benasari Sari…… rituals are performed…. garlands are exchanged…..shoes are stolen. Tears are shed at the Bidai….. As we depart for our home, she sitting beside me, it all slowly begins to sink in… it was end of one journey and the start of another…..

(And They Fought Happily Ever After)

Epilogue

Here my son, I rest my case. You be my messenger, and convey my message to her that ours was a Love that that overcame the hurdles of penury, caste, colour, status and inverted the accepted social norms……. and may be….. just may be….. one day she will understand…..

*******

P.S. - The above piece was written as a series of Facebook posts to woo back the affection of my estranged wife.

(Notes -

***Bela Bose is a song by the famous Bengali auteur Anjan Dutta in which a boy telephones his girlfriend after getting a job. But the call came just a bit too late….

^### This Para describes the Bengali Marriage Rituals)

*******

WORLD BOOK FAIR 2019, NEW DELHI : A VISIT TO PARADISE

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.” 

― Marcus Tullius Cicero

World Book Fair being held at Pragati Maidan New Delhi is one of the oldest Book Fairs in India. The first Delhi Book Fair was inaugurated in 1972 by the then President of India V.V Giri. Back then it was a biennial event. Since 2013 the fair is being organised annually by National Book Trust in association with Indian Trade Promotion Organisation generally in the first to second week of January. It is being promoted as Asia’s biggest Book Fair and it is here that I propose to find my true soulmate- Books.

The 2019 World Book Fair is being held from 05-13 January at Pragati Maidan from 11 am to 8 pm. The theme of this year is ‘Books for Readers with Special Needs’ and ‘Sharjah’ (UAE) is the Guest of Honor’s country.  On 05 of Jan I had an early brunch and by 11 am I was on a metro towards Pragati Maidan.  I reached Pragati Maidan Metro Station around 11.30. It is barely 05-10 minutes walk from the metro station and by 11.40 I was inside the fair grounds ready to explore a limitless world.

My first destination was the Indian Language Publishers Hall. This was a microcosm of the Indian culture and exhibited the diversity of its literature. Books from many Indian languages were on display here. From Hindi to Urdu, from Bengali to Punjabi the stalls displayed the rich and diverse literary culture of India. Being a Bong guy I decided to visit the Bengali stalls first. I was disappointed that only a few stalls were displaying Bengali Books. Still the rich literary heritage of Bengal from Rabindranath Tagore & Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay to Mahasweta Devi & Sunil Gangopadhyay was in full display here, my personal favourites being Satyajit Ray’s Feluda and Sharadindu Bandyopadyay’s Byomkesh Bakshi. But I decided to settle on the Pujabarshiki edition  of the popular  Bengali Cookery

 magazine ‘Hangla Hesel’, as I had to return home at the end of the day and explain my absence for a whole day to my loving wife. Bengalis love their food and a good cook book should amicably settle chances of any domestic discord.

Next came the Hindi stalls. Hindi books on a wide range of subjects, from the heartbreaking novels of Munshi Premchand and the intoxicating poetry of Harivansh Rai Bachchan to the glitz & glamour of Bollywood, were on display here. My mastery over the Hindi language chiefly consisted of my interest in hindi comic books as a child, so I decided to stick to the same. A visit to Diamond Book Stall and I was reuinted with the world’s most clever man, Pran’s ‘Çhacha Chaudhary’, whose brain works faster than the computer, and his sidekick ‘Sabu’, an alien from  Jupiter & the most powerful person on this earth. Then came my tryst with the Indian superheroes

Nagraj, Super Commando Dhruv & Doga  from the publishers Raja Pocket Books (the Indian equivalent of Marvel & DC). These comics brought back vivid memories of my childhood days.

I have a four year old at home so I headed towards the kids section next. Einstein once said “If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent read them more fairy tales.” Hence, I decided to select a few fairy tales and bedtime stories for my little one, so that on growing up he does not take after me.

By the time I was finished selecting books for my family, my stomach was already crying “how can you ignore me like this bro???’’. So I decided to pacify him too.Though I had a wide range to choose from, from chinese noodles to desi pav bhaji and dum biryani, but the food did not look too appetizing. I decided on the Chicken Biryani. Though the food was rubbish, it provided me with the energy to conquer the final frontier - English literature.

Books from all the major English publishers were on display . My favourite stalls being Penguin Random House India and Harper Collins. From Tintin & DC comics to the classics like The Book Thief & To Kill a Mockingbird, from Indian Mythology by Devdutt Pattanaik & the spiritual Life’s Amazing Secrets by Gaur Gopal Das to Sapiens & Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari, Penguin India had a wide selection of books for everyone and from every field. Harper Collins is home to the undisputed Queen of murder mysteries, Agatha Christie and many of her titles were available here. Other notable authors include George R.R. Martin (Game of Thrones) & J.R.R.Tolkien (The Lord of the Rings & The Hobbit). It

had classics such as The Alchemist and modern thrillers such as The Woman in the Window. Other notable stalls included Hachette, Bloomsbury & Pan Macmillan India. Hachette India had some of the finest books on Horror & Mystery, from books of the master of horror Stephen King to those of authors like Anthony Horowitz & Keigo Higashino (The Devotion of Suspect X). Bloomsbury was a treat for the Harry Potter fans, while Pan Macmillan had the books of such legendary authors as Jeffrey Archer. I was spoilt for choice. Next came the stalls selling old & used books. They had a wide collection and you could buy a popular novel for as less a Rs100/-. By the time I had finished going through these it was already well past 7 pm and the stalls were closing for the day.

I left the fair grounds at 7.30 with loads of books. I can hardly wait to go through these. I will be posting my views on the books in my blog in the coming months. Overall I had a great time at the Book Fair. My New Year is off to a great start. Wishing you a prosperous year ahead. Happy New Year.

“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
― Jorge Luis Borges