"
Ma, o Ma", a pretty young girl, with beautiful doe eyes, and shiny black hair stands in front of the bathroom vanity mirror with a worried look on her face. She is intently studying the labels on two identical jars, each containing some gooey black and green stuff that looks like face cream.
.
"Ma," the girl repeats again anxiously. "What do you think is better for my face? Dead sea mud and volcanic ash or
Ashwagandha* and
Ghritakumari?"
.
In absence of any reply, the girl hesitantly assures herself, "
Ghritakumari* sounds so beautiful. I think this will be better for my complexion. After all, it is made in India. There is no other way to go with this product than fair and more fair."
.
She then carefully applies the greenish gooey, substance on her face, making sure that every inch of her face and neck is coated with the product.
.
"Ma, can we meet
Ghritakumari, when we go to India this time? I think am her fan. I want to follow her. Is she on Insta? Does she do Tik-Tok?," Lokkhi makes a pouty face and takes a selfie.
The mother, bent double over her phone, her eyebrows furrowed, her ten hands flying across ten different apps, does not even look up.
.
"Didi, grow up. Think beyond your piggy bank and face mask. There is a whole Universe out there to explore before global warming destroys our Kailash," a fair and bespectacled young girl, marches in with a tall glass of emerald green juice, the color of the juice only a shade lighter that the green mask on
Lokkhi's face.
She does not drink the juice however, holding it aloft like a statue instead, and keeps checking her phone every few seconds.
.
"Why do you keep checking your phone? Is your boyfriend going to call you?" Lokkhi suppresses a giggle beneath her masked face.
.
"Not BF idiot, IF" the fair girl murmurs, letting go off a very audible sigh.
.
"IF?" Lokkhi squeaks.
The Mother keeps tapping, her bifocals hanging off the tip of her nose, beads of perspiration shining like drops of pearls right atop her upper lips.
.
"
Intermittent Fasting re baba. Instead of only taking selfies, you should start reading your FB and WhatsApp forwards, Didi. IF is the range in US and India. Everyone is doing the 16:8".
"16:8 ?" Lokkhi squeaks again, just when the phone in Saro's hand starts beeping urgently.
"It's time, it's time. I did it, I fasted for 16 hours, " Saro jumps up, gulps her juice hungrily and quickly snaps into a squat position.
.
"Dhurr no weight loss with IF. What everyone needs to do is
Keto instead. Good food. Lots of fat. Eat as much
mutton kosha you want. And still have a figure like me," Kartik walks in with a smirk, pushes Lokkhi aside and flexes his muscles in front of the mirror.
Well, he deserves to be narcissistic.He does indeed look good -- tight muscles, gelled hair, trim mustache. Looks like that Keto or whatever he keeps doing works. Now, only if he tried a little and stopped looking at the mirror so much, he could have a job, even get some role in Bollywood.
While the two of them argue about IF and Keto and Lokkhi keeps taking selfies of her green face, their pleasantly obese, fat bellied brother strolls in with a Krispy Kreme donut-laddoo in hand. He doesn't look into the mirror and focusing on his donut says, "If I do Keto, can I eat as much mutton kosha as I like? With
Luchi or
Mishti Pulao?"
Kartik shakes his head in disbelief and looks disdainfully at Ganesh's protruding belly. Ganesh ignores him and takes a bigger bite of his cream filled donut laddoo.
Tension brews in #12 Kailash Drive. It's always tense and chaotic around here. You couldn't expect anything else with four adult kids living at home.
**************
"Gonshaaa," the Mother's shrill voice pierces through all the arguments, "
Eta ki sottiy? Is this true?" For a Goddess, she has a real shrill voice -- years of shouting at he worthless husband, her four kids and that Mahishasur has permanently raised her voice to a high pitch.
"What is true Ma?"
"That now back in my home, that "
Bhuter Raaja dilo Bor" is a reality? Only instead of clap, you have to tap your phone and food arrives like magic?"
"Ahh, are you talking of
Swiggy Ma? Or
Uber eats?" Gonsha smiles benevolently at his Mother.
He loved them. Not mothers. The apps. They were the only reason he could survive all those la-re-lappa songs and intense arguments over Ganapati Visarjan for those 10 days in September.
Biryani for dinner,
Idli with gun powder for breakfast,
Vada Pav or Khao Suey for lunch, and even his favorite
Krispy Kreme donut-laddoo for midnight snack...it was pure magic.
"
Sottiy tahole? Mandap e delivery korbe?**" Mother's face lights up with a 1000 watt smile. Finally there was something to look forward to after all that standing around in that weird pose for five whole days. She wasn't getting any younger and all that standing with a bent knee was taking its toll.
"No more of that Khichuri, labra everyday! Uff such a blessing." Dugga murmurs to herself.
Now she could have her favorite
chilli chicken from Tyangra while posing at that ludicrously expensive pandal in Sreebhumi. She could order
Beguni and Muri from Baagbazaar, waiting at Maddox square pujo pandal where no one seems to have heard of North Calcutta. The possibilities seemed endless. She should not forget the pack of Gelusil and Joan er Arok though, her digestion is not as good as it was ten years back
"And Gonsha, what is this? All these food bloggers are taking our recipes and posting them on Facebook, why re? Our Oshur doesn't even cook that well, why are they going crazy?" Dugga peers closer into the phone screen.
"Ei, don't complain about my cooking, f
ree te ranna tar abar oto kotha," Oshur groans from the dining room.
"Plagiarism? Ke koreche? Let me get a internet lawyer. did they use our photos?" Saro jumps in and snatches the phone from her Mom.
"Thakurbari'r mangsho , Thakurbari'r Chholar' Dal, Thakurbari'r aloor chop, Thakurbari'r maggi..." she murmurs scrolling down the list.
"
Thakurbari'r Maggi? That is my recipe. Mine. Totally mine" Lokkhi shrieks. "OMG, I am famous. They are copying my recipe".
"Uff Ma, you are too much. This is not us, not Durga Thakur. This is Robi Thakur, Rabindranath Tagore", Saro shakes her head in disbelief. How did she land up in this family of idiots? How?
"Ohh Robi? He rote such good songs, aha. He cooked too? I always knew he was multi talented," Dugga smiles fondly thinking of her favorite bard.
"Achcha Gonsha
make me a list of what food to order in the Mandap. There are so many reviews of where to eat for Pujo that I am getting confused now. We have only five days and I am getting older, can't eat that much anymore," Dugga hands over the phone to Ganesh and finally sits back, relaxed and smiling..
"Dada, I kintu want
phuchka with
jhaal-mishti-tok water," says Lokkhi sliding up to Ganesh.
"I want
momos Dada, and
Hakka Noodles, but ask them to deliver before 5:30. I have IF", Saro picks up her books and stands behind Ganesh's shoulder.
Kartik shuffles his feet and meekly says, " Dada oi
Shiraz er Biriyani ar Rezala, 2 plates, we can share. Biryani is allowed in my Keto."
"Ami vegan. For me,
Dosa with coconut chutney only," groans Mahishashur from the kitchen.
Shib finally stirs up from the recliner and says, "Duto
shingara, bonde ar ek cup cha".
*
Ghritakumari -- Aloe Vera
*
Ashwagandha -- Indian ginseng
**
Sottiy tahole?
Mandap e delivery korbe? -- So it's true! They'll deliver at the Puja pandal.
If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox
