Dugga Dugga

I had planned to post this short story on Mahalaya, but never got the time. So finally here it is. Shubho Bijoya.

"Ma, Ma, Maaaa", there was frantic rapping on the door, a heavy, ornate, teak affair , showing signs of age. The paint was peeling off around the middle but you knew that this was a door which had seen good times and kids.

"Uff, this girl, she won't me let me do even one thing in peace," Dugga muttered, frantically clicking on the mouse, while scanning the screen in front of her with utmost concentration.
"And that nonsense of a guy I married. Shiva. No idea of family planning, no stable job, no investments, nothing. Just went ahead and had four kids. Did he even once stop to think that five flight tickets to Kolkata every year would cost more than his five year's worth of pot?"

Her grumbling was interrupted by the phone which set off ringing in a jarring conch shell tone.

"Oshur, Mohisashur. Can you pick the phone ? This Oshur is an absolute lazy bummer. I must have been out of my mind to hire him as secretary. Should have killed him right there at the Pandal." Dugga grumbled.

Seeing no signs of Oshur, she extended her fourth hand on the right to pick up the phone. It is not as simple as it sounds though. Weaving through her three other hands and flowing tresses to get the phone to the ear was a task in itself.

"Hello? Ke bolchen?", Dugga said, her voice calm and polite like the lady at the T-Mobile Call Center.

A far off voice, anxious and tense, came over the airwaves -- "Ma, Ma. I am Mrs.Sen from Baguihati. You are our savior Ma. Only you can help me from my suffering.My son is in Singapore Ma and he says, I have to send a sari for his Malaysian girlfriend. What to buy Ma ? Too many choices these days. Chiffon, georgette, dhakai, silk is all I know. But now they say Satya Paul, Mora, Sabyasachi. How do I choose Ma? What if my son does not like what I send ?"

"Aa molo jaa, jotto shob. Baba Mortyobasi earthling, I have enough troubles of my own to sort first.I haven't been able to book my tickets yet and it is already Mahalaya. MakeMyTrip.com is giving me the cheapest fare via Sierra Leone. Do you know what that means ? What if my Karthik gets ebola and doesn't make it. Well, he will not be missed exactly. But what will happen if Oshur is infected ? Do you understand that kids will not even come to the pandal without him and Tanishq will not sponsor a single gold necklace? But no, you will not think of my troubles. All you are interested is in your son, family and saree. Haven't I told you umpteen times that all of this is just Maya."

"Maya? Ma, Maya Saree? Now that you have given me wisdom, that is the one I will buy Ma. Joi Ma Durga", said Mrs.Sen, from Baguihati

Dugga banged down the phone in frustration and looked back at the screen.

"Maaaa, open the door," the whiny voice outside the door got louder."Have to ask you something?"

"What is it now Lokkhi ? Can you not be on your own for even a minute? Told you I am working."

Lokkhi managed to open the door somehow and entered the study in spite of her Mother's ire. A pair of low cut jeans hugged her bottom and molded her shapely legs.

"Maa, do you think I look fat ?" she asked. Her hands at her waist, one leg in front of the other, her face tilted slightly upwards, she tried to pose like Alia Bhatt.

"Nope", said Mother without taking her eye off the screen.

Lokkhi pouted and swiveled this way and that.

A melodious, tinkling laughter came from behind the huge couch. There was Saraswati, snuggled in a corner,the latest best seller "Fault in our Stars" in hand.

"You know that you cannot pack that for our trip, right?" Saro said.

"Maaa, I can't take my new pair of jeans??? Really ??? Aren't we going to stop over at the France?" Lokkhi looked visible worried.

"No France baby. Too expensive. Looks like Air India is our only option. Go pack some nice sari" said Dugga.

"But Kol people wear jeans Ma. And even dresses. Minis too. Why can't I? I look fat in sari, " wailed Lokkhi

"Whatever," Saraswati said, "Kol people might like your jeans Di but not the Kol Police".

"Haah, easy for you to say. You are so fair. Those folks will not even see what you are wearing just because you are so white," Lokkhi grumbled.

"You are so clueless Di.Have you even heard of the Dark is Beautiful campaign? No one wants to be fair anymore Soon they will market a cream called Dark n Lovely. "

"That is just what the antel people are doing. When I go to Liluah and Baanshdroni, they put up the Fair & Lovely ad right in front of my face. And then they say my complexion is wheatish."

"Uff come on Lokkhi. You are supposed to be Goddess of wealth.Have some confi, mortyovasis will always like you. They love money even more than the tube of Fair & Lovely."

"Wealth? You make me laugh Saraswati. I don't even have a job. What wealth do I have?"

"Arre you don't have to like really "have" it. Just post a pic on Facebook with the latest BMW na and they will all like it and think you are rich. It is all in the mind, you see. And besides that, it is high time you got a job."

"Girls, can you just stop your jabbering. Did you see the news ? At Sreebhumi pandal they will make me wear diamonds and we will each get our own bodyguard. And in Ekdalia, it is all that gold again by Tanishq", Dugga exclaimed.

"Really Ma ? Really? Can I wear some too? Hope I get Salman Khan for my bodyguard", Lokkhi squealed. Her sorrow over sari forgotten.

Saro rolled her eyes and went back to her book. Kartik strolled in, hoping to make his case, amidst his sister's conversation.

"But hey Mom, what about me? Why do I have to be still bare chested and all? You know all that waxing really hurts.And then they make fun of me, compares my tummy with SRK's six packs.I am going to wear my T-shirt this time. And remember none of those naru, sondesh for me. I am on a diet. I will make do with egg Roll and biriyani."

'Baba Kartik, do whatever you want. Honestly no one cares. I would have left you with your Dad and saved on a ticket but the organizers want some kind of symmetry on both my sides so have to take you."

"Hrmmmph, you always always ignore me.You never loved me in the first place. Always you and Dad are partial to Ganesh", Kartik stomped his feet and looked like he would burst into tears.

"And you love Lokkhi more than me too. I am the one who has to do all the studying and play the veena and practice my singing, while all Lokkhi does is paints nails and watches MTV. Not fair Ma", Saraswati joined in.

"Seriously can we have some peace here ? I have just come back from nine days of brain numbing Yo Yo Honey Singh and I have to go back there again. Do you even understand what I am going through ?" wise Ganesha strolled in, his belly fatter than what it was two months back.

"Yes, yes, we all know, nine days of modaks and laddoos are showing their signs Dada. You better sign up for the gym fast."

"Hey Kartik, don't act smart with me ok ? I don't complain because I know that Ma has to run this family and the moolah comes from our annual tours. But seriously these earthlings are getting on my nerves. They invite us and then expect us to kow tow to all their wishes. We cannot just continue to do things we don't like because the society says so"

"Baba Ganesh, what exactly do you want to say? Your mouse is giving me enough trouble and at this age all this online booking is driving me crazy. Given a choice I would have gone to Mars on vacation than the Earth."

"Well Ma, I mean if Lokkhi wants to wear her jeans, let her, it is okay. #hokkolorob. And Karthik doesn't always need to be bare chested, it is high time you realize that he is no match to Sallu. Even Tollywood has Parombroto these days. Saro, if you don't want to play the veena and do rap, go ahead but think wisely before you give up on it. And finally Ma, I think it is high time you decide what you want to do with Baba. A irresponsible , crazy guy like that doesn't deserve you. I think you should just move out."

"And also Ma, can you just stop hankering for diamonds and gold.Have you forgotten the fragrance of  garlands made of the orange stalked shiuli?"

Dugga, Lokkhi, Kartik and Saro stared, their mouth agape and their eyes wide.

Finally Dugga said, "Baba Ganesh, no doubt they call you Siddhidata.Tell those organizers at Ekdalia, I am boycotting pandals with diamond and gold. Karthik, go find where they have made garlands of shiuli  picked before the first sun's ray touches them. I will stand there where the kaash phool sways in the autumn breeze under the azure blue Sharat akash. If I am going to Earth on my vacation, it better be in my terms.And when we are back next week, get me a lawyer Ganesh will ya?"

"I think I will keep playing the Veena," murmured Saraswati.

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D is for Dim Kosha and Dhokar Dalna

The A-Z series that I had started is still very much in its fledgling state. With each letter I am even more confused with the wide array of dishes that deserve a place. Thinking of D, I made Dim er Devil, Doi Maachh, thought of making Dhokar Dalna but skipped as it was too much work and then finally decided to give Dim Kosha the place that it so rightly deserves. Well, at least I think so. I love eggs, simply love, love them and when it is the letter "D", Dim or Eggs are in the forefront in my dictionary.

This time the Dim Kosha was made with "Haansher Dim" or Duck eggs. The husband-man has this uncanny fondness for Duck Eggs. It might be something about the town he is from, for anyone who is from there reserves a certain reverence for "Haansher Dim". Now my family was not keen on Duck eggs and it is Murgi ke ande in round wire baskets sold by Maulbi ji  which were staple in our home, so this longing for Duck eggs took me long to understand.

The first time I had Duck Eggs was when I visited my in-law's house in this laid back town which is few hours away from Kolkata and has an abundance of lush greenery.I could sense that the whole family was very excited about Haansher Dim and the kosha that would follow. The husband-man was brimming at the possibility of finally treating me to this delicacy.The way they went on about it, you would think it was some expensive caviar from France, but then really who likes French caviar? There was some uncertainty about the "dimwala" running out of duck eggs and finally when the guy rang his cycle bell around 11 in the morning, everyone ran to the gate expecting a miracle.

When I saw the eggs, they seemed pretty ordinary to me albeit larger. There was nothing ordinary about the Kosha that followed though. It was out of this world and the yolks of those eggs were more creamier than I could imagine.

Back to School and School Lunches

School started last Thursday after a long summer break. Yeah really long. I think I have talked about "long summer breaks" enough in my last 3 posts which spanned over 2 months, to ascertain that they are indeed long. You have probably also realized that of the 2 adults and 2 kids in my house, the one who was most depressed about "back to school" was me. But I couldn't complain much because after all I am the Mother and it is my joi de vivre towards new school year that is going to influence innocent young minds. So I took a couple of Prozac, three deep breaths and told them how exciting the year is going to be.

Not that the Prozac convinced me to really think that way. After all you need something much stronger to think, that a dreary stretch of 180 days where the morning alarm goes off at 5:30, is indeed exciting. Maybe Faith, resilience and a "positive attitude" will work. I have heard those are wonderful miracle workers and I need to find them ASAP.

So far, we have survived 56 7 school days. Bus for the new middle school-er comes at 7:15 in the morning. I have managed to not hit the snooze button more than 3 times and wake up latest by 5:45. Okay today actually it was 6:15 but everything still worked fine and no one missed the bus. I even carried my cup of tea to the bus stop which is right across our house and sipped my cha, enjoying the crisp morning air. This is actually the right moment when I should start worrying about  the bitter cold mornings of January, but I won't because the Prozac is probably working. Or maybe the deep breath.

And then bus for the new first grader comes right after 8. At this point I should have let out a loud wail as I shall never have both the sisters attending the same school and going by the same bus at the same time. NEVER.You understand how heartbreaking that is. But I will not wail as the deep breath is weaving magic.

Thankfully because of  all the early morning cacophony LS is all ready and raring to go by 8. The first day of her first grade I worried a lot. This would be the first full day school for her. Kindergarten was only half a day and though she did got to a full-day day care , it was only a couple of days a week. I was sure she would fall asleep in the bus or in class. For some inexplicable reason I also worried that she would not be able to find the restroom. Well, this does have roots in my own childhood but that story later. And then like all Bengali Mothers I worried that she would not eat lunch and go hungry.

The Goofy First Grader

Nothing like that happened. I am a chronic worrier. Not "warrior". But "worrier". I worry a lot and I am really amazed that the girls did not inherit this tiny code in my DNA. They do worry about things like whether the garage door has been shut and the front door locked at night, stuff I forget to worry about, but on other aspects they are much more fearless.No wonder they jump on all those amusement park rides that go high up in the air while I close my eyes tightly, clench my heart and recite "Hanuman Chalisa"

Mostly it was LittleSis's calmness that amazed me. Probably being the second born, my expectations from her are more flexible. She was a tad anxious the day before school started but I told her a funny story where everyone from the Principal to the lunch lady is anxious about school and that relaxed her.The next day she dressed and got ready all by herself and walked to the bus with a big smile. Her being able to navigate first grade with perfect ease and without a single melt down surprised me. Keeping my fingers crossed.**No Jinx**.

BigSis too seemed to take to middle school with elan except of course for the lockers.

"How was your homeroom teacher BigSis? Do you have homework?"

"She was great. But I got the top locker and I am not tall enough so I swapped for a bottom locker".

"Okay, how was the science lab?"

"Good but the lower locker got jammed and has a different combination.I need to have more practice with lockers. Don't you have one at home which I could open? Do you think I can skip lunch tomorrow and practice opening my locker instead?"

"Did you make any new friend?"

"You know there is this one girl who got a tiny chandelier and a pink furry rug for her locker"!!! And this is real. The girl even got a pink wallpaper for her locker

You would think middle school is all about lockers and lockers alone. After a few days of  locker swapping, jamming and what not it seems she is a pro on lockers.

The first few exciting days will slowly give way to more homework, tests and a routine. Things will start falling into place, five more minutes of sleep will be squeezed in and I will pack sloppier lunches.

Lunch Menu

The first week I tried to be very organized with a menu printed on the board. There were slight deviations from there but more or less we followed the norm. After school snacks included Mini Wontons from Costco, Milk, Maggi and eggs.

Day 1 -- Snack for LS -- Goldfish and mini oreo. Lunch -- Pasta with basil pesto + Honest kids Juice + Belvita cookies for BS

Day 2 -- Snack for LS -- Goldfish and mini oreo. Lunch -- Grilled Cheese sandwich + Honest kids Juice + slice of Date cake

Day 3 -- Snack for LS -- Grapes. Lunch -- Indian Style noodles with vegetables for both + slice of Date cake

Day 4 -- Snack for LS -- Pocky Sticks. Lunch -- Bagel with butter and Bagel with jalapeno cream cheese + plum + chicken nuggets

Day 5 -- Snack for LS -- Goldfish and mini oreo. Lunch -- Macaroni  + chocolate milk for LS and Date cake for BS


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