Sitting on the threshold of a new Bengali year I feel reminiscent of this year’s New Year’s Eve i.e. POILA BOISHAKH. So first of all Shubho Nobo Borsho to you all.
Myself a 22 year old confused would be engineer decided to spend the occasion with my parents & relatives at my hometown; definitely with a hidden motive.
So it’s the Poila boishakh jamboree where I decide to donate my evening selflessly.
The entrance sends me into collywobbles & the very next moment I’m lost in a sea of so called own people: - BENGALIS (some 15 to 20 thousand)
But soon after my ears are greeted with some enthralling Rabindra Sangeet & Adhunik Gaan filling the entire atmosphere. Amidst this vivacious mood I could feel the specters of literary & cultural biggies reveling in great joy & ebullience just like the gathered masses.
Now the scene is somewhat known to me. Men in crispy crunchy silk Dhuti Panjabi (typical babu moshai) & women not girls in a somewhat Devi Chaudharani attire. The guys mostly in sherwani & then comes the eye opener, the GIRLS mostly in hip hop spaghetti or tank tops & of course jeans.
Gone are those days when my so called childhood girlfriends used to dress in similar traditional raiment as their ma & thakuma.
The men engaged in exchanging hugs & the boumas holding each other’s hands, involved in some sort of collusive feminine gossip & flaunting their jewellery with classical Bengali music filling the air. That’s what I call celebration at its zenith.
While I’m standing at a corner tapping at the beats of the music, Ma calls me up & there starts the once in a blue moon face to face with SARKAR KAKU,SENGUPTA MASI, BOSE AUTNY,CHAKROBORTY UNCLE & many more with whom I’m forced to forge a relationship through unseen relatives, their acquaintances & neighbors whom I’ve never met in my lifetime. Meanwhile I’d to endlessly engage in the much taught & necessary ceremony of touching their feet hoping that their soccer practice of passing the ball to the next one would soon end.
Having done with my traditional chores I decide to use my sense organs for multitasking.
Lips for my gossip, nose for the viand
Ears for the band & eyes for my bride.
Thus unfolds my enigmatic motive & I felt that the occasion was just too perfect to hit the bull’s eye. But after 2 hours of tired staring the same old feeling encompasses me that the Bengali goddess of matrimony is again engaged somewhere else.
Just then the stage goes dark & smoky & the silhouette of a traditional Bengali dancer appears on it & just when it is lights, camera & action, a chill runs down my spine. The damsel of my dreams, the queen of my heart is right in front of me performing on the stage. Finally I’d hit the bull’s eye.
Unconsciously I lose track of time & for the next few minutes I’m awestruck & mesmerized by her charm, beauty & performance. I came to know from the dais that it is Shubhomita performing on “Ei Banglar Maati” & while she is engaged in the catharsis on the stage I’m busy directing “Rigved weds Shubhomita”, the first scene being she covering her face with betle leaves & our eyes meeting for the first time. Oh! The romantic mommets of a Bengali wedding.
Her performance comes to an end but I’m dumbstruck, still in her hangover. I stared at the sky & can’t find the moon, but I knew it was somewhere very close to me.
“Dada, Dada” calls my sis, but I don't want to disturb my shooting by even turning towards her. She pulls me & I reluctantly turn back &………
“Dada this is my very good friend Shubhomita, a mind-blowing dancer, you must’ve seen her right now. She stays at Jamshedpur only.”
My dream girl is my sister’s friend & staying in Jamshedpur, now this is an overdose.
“I think I should leave you two alone for sometime while I’ll go & get something to eat.”
So friends it’s easy going when you’ve a smart & caring sis.
“Hi! Congrats for your job. So you’ll be staying at Jamshedpur only, that’s nice.”
Learning from my past experiences I decide not to spoil this once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Ya thanks. So you're done with your performances?”
“Yup.”
“Then how about a drive to the nearest ice-cream parlor?” as if coaxing for a yes & it clicked.
“With this entire make up & dress!!!” a confident “Ok. Fine.”
“You look better than the best in this, so let’s go.”
I wink at my sis & my cell beeps. It’s a sms from my sis,” Long drive with BOUDI, All the best.”
With emotions & confidence soaring high & with romance in the air, we both slip out of the place. In the car it took a minute or two to break the ice & after a brief diplomatic but exciting & a cornetto chat we come back, exchange our cell numbers & decide to meet at Jamshedpur.
So hoping to make my directorial debut in 4-5 years, it seems this time I might have got an appointment with the goddess.
Next stop Jamshedpur.
Bye……
