A delicious Moha Shoshthi spent at home watching TV, reading, chatting on the phone, suffering headaches and power cuts.
I have watched many, many, many episodes of Grey's Anatomy. What is that you ask? My dear intellectual friend, kindly bring a paper and pencil. Good. Now draw four, or five or may be six dots. Name the central dot - 'meredith' , name the most shapely, adorable dot 'Shepherd', others don't even bother. Now draw lines. Lines connecting the dots. Lines hovering around the dots. One line passing through three dots, making triangles etc. Now over the lines write "sleeps with", "dies", "marries", and "has a baby" ... you now have a blueprint of the plot. But it's still very watchable. Don't you dare judge me.
As usual I have digressed, what I really wanted to say was, that I feel like a surgeon and I shall analyze the syndrome of thakur dyakha. No one actually sees the Goddesss, which in some places is a 15 inch thingy worshipped by a puroot (I spell it this way, since it rhymes with churoot, and I always imagine the former with smoke coming out of their orifices) . So the Goddess that symbolizes this Divine power, exists as a schizophrenic entity- the gigantic one to enthrall us, and the tiny one, worshipped by the puroot. Then we go about messing with our Pujor chuti and do more hectic stuff than we do on non-chuti days. Pujo-madness, pujo-frenzy, pujor-jama, pujor-egg-roll ... all to lull us into the comfort of believing that we are very sane people who don't shop all the year round, people who don't touch junk food at all etc. Baudrillard baby would have had a field day with us. We would be like field rats in his lab.
Anyway.
There are species like me, who are very enthusiastic as long as they are well-fed, not feeling pee/poop/puke-ish and not experiencing any leg ache trauma. Then there are species like my father, who are self-proclaimed nastiks (atheists), yet will visit a pandal in the North Pole if they can. Just for fun.
Of course he visits the pandals on his own. Now that I am an adult (an obese one by the grace of God), I can't be dragged into these adventures. So he comes home in the afternoon and all I have to do is ask , and he rattles off half a dozen names- Shuruchi Sangha, Badam Tola, Cheshotti Polli, Mudiali.... I beg him to stop. He proceeds with the description of each pandal and each idol, and the opinions. Camera? That's for less articulate losers. My father told a man with an umbrella that he was doing a great job by carrying an umbrella, that saved not only him but others behind him in the queue from the heat. The man apparently was very happy because others had been complaining about poking and stuff... losers of course they were. huh.
Once we went to visit the Mohd, Ali Park Pandal , where the theme was peace. The Durga idol had pigeons instead of weapons. The symbolism was lost on my father, and he asked the already-exhausted organisers- "ki korechen dada? payra, payra, payra ...eta Durga?" ... we pretended we did not know him.
Then once I was dragged into a 'bojra', a 'launch' which sailed on the Hooghly between the two bridges and it was supposed to be beautiful. However it was not because the loos were dirty. Then Tanusree Shankar's troupe was supposed to dance on another 'bojra' and we the lesser mortals were to view this divine dance from our own 'bojra' after that there was hindi songs and ... Biriyani.
The grand ride home was in the car of a friend's crazy relative who took revenge on a driver who did not know the directions by not giving him the directions. Crazy relative kept mum as the driver took wrong turns and kept asking 'dada kon dike jabo?' Friend, who sat beside me , sms'd "I am sorry" throughout the ride as I glared at her. My bladder would have burst. It did not. I live to tell this tale.
There was a time when my entire maternal family went for a whole night trip. One aunt of mine, eats a lot, her children too eat a lot but she always thinks they are starved, UN-calendar, rib-cage-exposed-type babies. Anyway so she ate a lot and just before the car reached College Square- nature called. Very loudly. She was led towards the pay-and-use toilet. A concerned relative offered a bottle of water you know just in case. This relative's son immediately screamed ... "Ma ota jol na...Sprite."
I don't know if one has ever seen the Goddess on these trips. I haven't. (Had I been a guy I would have been pleased with other kinds of Goddesses but even that is impossible. ) The point is, I have seen enough to stay at home and watch Grey's Anatomy on Shoshthi. Shantih.
PS: Latest Updates-
a.Bitchy woman doing her research in yankee-doodle nation is back town.
b.Father mistook one person's wife for another's and wondered why the father-in-law of the wife1 was spending so much time with wife2. Mother revealed that Father-in-Law of wife 1 is the father-in-law of wife 1. Mystery solved with a hearty laugh and zero embarrassment. Welcome to my family.
c.If someone asks my youngest niece her name, she says "Ami Ghosh", her mother's name is "Maa Ghosh" and father's...of course "Baba Ghosh".
Okay Bye.
I have watched many, many, many episodes of Grey's Anatomy. What is that you ask? My dear intellectual friend, kindly bring a paper and pencil. Good. Now draw four, or five or may be six dots. Name the central dot - 'meredith' , name the most shapely, adorable dot 'Shepherd', others don't even bother. Now draw lines. Lines connecting the dots. Lines hovering around the dots. One line passing through three dots, making triangles etc. Now over the lines write "sleeps with", "dies", "marries", and "has a baby" ... you now have a blueprint of the plot. But it's still very watchable. Don't you dare judge me.
As usual I have digressed, what I really wanted to say was, that I feel like a surgeon and I shall analyze the syndrome of thakur dyakha. No one actually sees the Goddesss, which in some places is a 15 inch thingy worshipped by a puroot (I spell it this way, since it rhymes with churoot, and I always imagine the former with smoke coming out of their orifices) . So the Goddess that symbolizes this Divine power, exists as a schizophrenic entity- the gigantic one to enthrall us, and the tiny one, worshipped by the puroot. Then we go about messing with our Pujor chuti and do more hectic stuff than we do on non-chuti days. Pujo-madness, pujo-frenzy, pujor-jama, pujor-egg-roll ... all to lull us into the comfort of believing that we are very sane people who don't shop all the year round, people who don't touch junk food at all etc. Baudrillard baby would have had a field day with us. We would be like field rats in his lab.
Anyway.
There are species like me, who are very enthusiastic as long as they are well-fed, not feeling pee/poop/puke-ish and not experiencing any leg ache trauma. Then there are species like my father, who are self-proclaimed nastiks (atheists), yet will visit a pandal in the North Pole if they can. Just for fun.
Of course he visits the pandals on his own. Now that I am an adult (an obese one by the grace of God), I can't be dragged into these adventures. So he comes home in the afternoon and all I have to do is ask , and he rattles off half a dozen names- Shuruchi Sangha, Badam Tola, Cheshotti Polli, Mudiali.... I beg him to stop. He proceeds with the description of each pandal and each idol, and the opinions. Camera? That's for less articulate losers. My father told a man with an umbrella that he was doing a great job by carrying an umbrella, that saved not only him but others behind him in the queue from the heat. The man apparently was very happy because others had been complaining about poking and stuff... losers of course they were. huh.
Once we went to visit the Mohd, Ali Park Pandal , where the theme was peace. The Durga idol had pigeons instead of weapons. The symbolism was lost on my father, and he asked the already-exhausted organisers- "ki korechen dada? payra, payra, payra ...eta Durga?" ... we pretended we did not know him.
Then once I was dragged into a 'bojra', a 'launch' which sailed on the Hooghly between the two bridges and it was supposed to be beautiful. However it was not because the loos were dirty. Then Tanusree Shankar's troupe was supposed to dance on another 'bojra' and we the lesser mortals were to view this divine dance from our own 'bojra' after that there was hindi songs and ... Biriyani.
The grand ride home was in the car of a friend's crazy relative who took revenge on a driver who did not know the directions by not giving him the directions. Crazy relative kept mum as the driver took wrong turns and kept asking 'dada kon dike jabo?' Friend, who sat beside me , sms'd "I am sorry" throughout the ride as I glared at her. My bladder would have burst. It did not. I live to tell this tale.
There was a time when my entire maternal family went for a whole night trip. One aunt of mine, eats a lot, her children too eat a lot but she always thinks they are starved, UN-calendar, rib-cage-exposed-type babies. Anyway so she ate a lot and just before the car reached College Square- nature called. Very loudly. She was led towards the pay-and-use toilet. A concerned relative offered a bottle of water you know just in case. This relative's son immediately screamed ... "Ma ota jol na...Sprite."
I don't know if one has ever seen the Goddess on these trips. I haven't. (Had I been a guy I would have been pleased with other kinds of Goddesses but even that is impossible. ) The point is, I have seen enough to stay at home and watch Grey's Anatomy on Shoshthi. Shantih.
PS: Latest Updates-
a.Bitchy woman doing her research in yankee-doodle nation is back town.
b.Father mistook one person's wife for another's and wondered why the father-in-law of the wife1 was spending so much time with wife2. Mother revealed that Father-in-Law of wife 1 is the father-in-law of wife 1. Mystery solved with a hearty laugh and zero embarrassment. Welcome to my family.
c.If someone asks my youngest niece her name, she says "Ami Ghosh", her mother's name is "Maa Ghosh" and father's...of course "Baba Ghosh".
Okay Bye.
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