Victim of the Big B

They are strange things that happen in the brain – I wish I could get in there one day with a vacuum cleaner and suck out the unnecessary. Till such time let me share with you some crazy things it does.

Laziness takes the image of illogical imagery – So it was 2.30 a.m. I somehow woke up with parched lips and a dehydrated system. Everything in my body demanded a cool drink of water (actually gallons of it). But my brain advised against it. Its arguments were as follows:

1. 1.       It’s nice and cozy here. Stay on till sleep takes over again.
2. 2.       Look how cute hubby looks in his sleep – go snuggle
3. 3.       Your fetching water may wake the baby up you stupid selfish idot
4. 4.       The biggest conviction – a picture of a rather helpless but crazily scary man, perched on a branch of a tree, looking inside my kitchen through the window!!!!!!!!! And then just reaching out to me for help of some sort. I would ideally feel bad I think – but I just wanted to screaaaaaaaaaaammm.

So of course the body stayed dehydrated, the lips just moistened enough by a dry tongue and the night a rather restless one! Why oh why!!!

Sometimes after a big argument, when the anger has really subsided, it’s time to make up, close the matter and call it a day, the big B says:

1. 1.       Remember how you felt when he/she said that to you?
2. 2.       How come he/she is not here to make up with you?
3. 3.       Common stop being such a loser and play hard to get
4. 4.       Yo are very very very upset – show it…

A calming hand comes over my shoulder and a voice says 'sorry', I want to turn around and hug –what do I do – push the hand away and leave the house without a destination in mind. Why oh why???

When my ex-employer asked me to do something and put forth an ultimatum – I worked diligently towards the latter (the ultimatum). The task at hand was probably the easier to achieve. Big B said how dare she give you an ultimatum?? Why oh why!!! In retrospect, however, this is the only time I am glad Big B had done its thing.

Oh another one - being educated in a convent we were always told to behave like "ladies". Well most of us knew what that means. In that rule book there is a certain way to sit, eat, smile, sip, walk ..... Somewhere along the lines of practicing this way of living Big B made me act uppity with the boys I was dying to go out with. Whenever my eyes met the boy's in question, Big B would invariably dictate I look away (better still if I could bring up a sneer on my face)!!!!! The result of course is obvious. Never gottem.   Why oh why???? 

After reading this post, please do not confine me to the part in your brain where all the retards live. There is more to me I promise but Big B gets the better of me sometimes …..

Dad's Diary 7 - Artiste of the Hyemal Kind

Biltu was a coward, a reticent, and an introvert so long as the sun rays poured on him. Thin and lanky, his eyes glistened at dusk, and there emerged a totally different personality in enveloping darkness. He had a rare gift of combining frivolity with recklessness in his nocturnal activities.

The long winter holidays in the school afforded Biltu the opportunity to undertake perilous undertakings. It was outrightly dangerous to be with him in his projects, and a shortcoming to miss them. He boasted of being a 'performing artiste of the hyemal kind.'

Of the numerous pranks, the most striking one even faced an intensive though unsuccessful police inquiry. The police came to the neighborhood and questioned all the boys. Biltu was luckily interrogated during his 'solar affliction.' True to his nature, he winced, trembled and stammered his way out. He was not daring enough to pull such a job, the police presumably concluded.

Wintry Darjeeling, nestled in the Himalayan foothills, forced people, particularly at night, to wrap up heavy woolens from head to foot, making movement up the road awkward and slow. The oldies even added thick mufflers on top of balaclava caps that virtually kept only the eyes bare.

Equipped with a black balaclava cap Biltu used to spread out all ten fingers, palms facing backwards, elbows partly folded, crouch-walk silently in a peculiar gait, stand erect right behind his unsuspecting victim, and shrilly shout, 'aau aau' several times before running away the way he came.

He used to pull back his Adam's apple, and force the vocal chord to let out the gibberish sound coupled with a nasal tone in an unearthly fury. The impact was tremendously traumatic. Many a victim, usually a solitary figure in a deserted street, actually cried out in panic.

One such night we spotted a man sauntering his way laboriously up the hilly terrain. Biltu took a couple of deep breath, and silently went on his crouch-walk. We waited with bated breath. The 'aau aau-s' broke the silence, but something was amiss. Instead of at least four times it was uttered only twice.

Two movements occurred simultaneously. The victim clutched his stomach and sat down on the road, and Biltu took a different escape route. We waited in vain for him to reappear. There was no trace of him for the next four days.

Our patience exhausted, we hazarded a visit to his residence. His father came out to announce that Biltu had been grounded for the rest of the winter holidays. “And don't you boys mix up with that bad boy, or he will get you all in trouble.”

After much persuasion, we were granted ten minutes with Biltu inside his bedroom. The 'performing artiste of the hyemal kind' was in a bleak mood.

“I nearly busted his hernia,” Biltu whispered rapidly, “that man was my father. Unlike others he had looked back, we looked into each other's eyes just for a moment, and that was enough for recognition.” His 'solar affliction' was cured after the incident, he informed us, instead he was now afraid of the darkness. Perhaps it was now a case of 'lunar morbidity,' he speculated, as we took his leave.


BY TAPAS MUKHERJEE