Mommy matters classified

I don’t call her Mommy, but Maa and she’s often cranky. While sometimes her actions and comments make me roll over laughing. She doesn’t particularly display a very good sense of humour, but when she exhibits one it keeps me delighted for years. I would like to narrate some incidents here:
When I was about ten years, one night while dining, she was accusing me of something I haven’t done or may be something which I had done that had offended her. She was folding the dry clothes and bed sheets standing on the doorway to the bedroom facing the dining table and shouting at me. Obviously I was sitting with a face painted with guilt, trying to be as invisible as much as possible and was wondering when she would shut up. Then a miracle happened, suddenly her accusations turned into fearful screams. It was a flying cockroach that had decided to land on her shoulder and save my night of humiliation! She dropped the accusations and the bed sheet and was rotating and scratching herself, while the screaming continued. My dreaded face suddenly turned into a victorious one, I could sense it, and I was laughing madly. My trauma was over, and it was now her turn to face some amount of embarrassment!
One day, several years ago, mom and I had a controversy over something, (we always have controversial thoughts, our choices never match) and she was so angry that she started to hit me with a very old wooden stick, kept at one corner of the door for reasons unknown to me. She hit me once on the leg and successfully I prevented the blow from harming me, the pressure was shared between my hands and the poor victimized leg of mine. But with the second blow, the stick broke into two pieces! One was in her hand while the other flew out and rested on the floor a couple of meters away. Her expression was priceless. She looked angry, puzzled, bewildered and she paused for a while to think what could be done next. Whenever I think of that face I just can’t resist myself from grinning with pride. Pride over what, I don’t know, because I cannot claim that I am so strong that the wooden stick gave way. But it was due to age, the withering age of the poor stick, little did it know that one day when it was old it would be used as a weapon against the mighty Lahari!
Recently, one day we had decided to sell off the old newspapers and plastic bottles at a store nearby which buy these stuff and send them to factories for recycling. Maa had some knee problems for which she couldn’t walk very fast, or carry heavy things. I had taken out the bags one by one and kept them at the staircase landing. We had to walk down the steps to the road and take a rickshaw. Then I went upstairs to lock the door, when I came back, what I saw :

Maa pulled up one heavy bag from its place and placed it on the first step, she turned to tell me something, and I saw the fat bag glide slowly down, before I could shout out a warning down it went “Dhap… Dhap… Dhap… Dhap…. Dhaasshhh” rhythmically, the bag rolled down and all the papers fell out of it. I didn’t know whether the situation was serious or funny. The falling was definitely funny but Maa’s knee ache was serious and that she had increased the workload by herself was even more serious. Anyways I burst out giggling, and the staircase echoed my giggles and someone downstairs opened the door to find out the cause of the sudden outburst of laughter. Then looking at the fallen bag for a moment she started laughing too. Guess what, it seemed I was waiting for a permission to laugh out even louder, and so I did.
Maa does not like pizzas much, she only tasted pizzas every time I forced her to. Just a few days ago there was some pizza advertisement in the television which said you could get the nicest Pizza there for ‘only’ Rs 50, now of course we know, there were extra added taxes… And Maa muttered while chopping vegetables on the table, “er cheye bhalo ponchas taka chibiye khawa!” (It’s better to chew on a 50 rupee note!)

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A Colourful Holi

My Holi started yesterday, when I went to the market with mom for regular shopping and watched with awe how colourful and happy the streets looked. The first thing mom stopped for was cucumbers, the man selling cucumbers had a lot of vegetables laid about him, and one of them was a majestic looking pumpkin. There were other people around, and a man asked the price of pumpkin, he said it was ten rupees per kilograms, the buyer happily asked him to proceed with cutting a wedge of 500 grams. As soon as he started to cut out pieces the buyer screams, “Not that.. I wanted that one over there, the beautiful one…” he pointed out to the majestic pumpkin. The vendor’s replied “that’s fourteen rupees per kilo”
“Keno (Why)” came in the swift and confused question, cause he had just said ten rupees per kilo was the price.
“Karon eta pumpkin ar ota kumro (Because this is Pumpkin and that is kumro{Bengali word for pumpkin})”, came the intelligent replied from the humorous vendor. The so called Pumpkin was bright orange and huge and I guess a few kittens could easily fit into the center once that was cleared, while the Kumro was a bit pale and not so huge. That’s all the difference between the Pumpkin and the Kumro!
Later on while peeping into some of the shops selling colours my eyes caught a very vibrant punk head! I don’t know whether that’s a proper word or not, but this guy had a multicoloured wig placed firmly on his head. The wig had every colour of hair in it. Okay, not real hair but it seemed very soft! And the false hair was well combed and done so that it stood out only throughout the middle on the head. The hair was too long and when he moved his head it almost brushed against my face! There were many such shocking display of colourful hair all over the market; what colour would you want – they had yellow, golden, green, red, purple, blue and everything!
Today my day started very late, but it started with a bang. My student called to inform how her English exam had been. Then gradually recovering from the sleepiness I realized it was 10:30am and children downstairs have already started splattering and smearing colours everywhere. ‘Oh God! I am so late.” I hurriedly had my breakfast and prepared for different coloured Abir that I had, to smear my fellow players’ face with. I got painted with red, yellow, orange and fluorescent green! No wonder I was laughing madly, just like Rani did in the film Queen on her own silly jokes. The colours were followed by tasty colourful Lemon rice of course cooked by me, but without any supplements.

Feel like a Queen and live like one too…

“Myself Rani”, says the shy and simple Delhi girl, to introduce herself to anyone. When she’s asked what it means she says “Queen”. She had been injected with all the good qualities injected within her, and had been taught to obey and respect everyone. But how many respects her? Rani’s (Kangana) wedding gets called off just in the morning before her big day by her fiancé. She decides to go to Paris on her honeymoon which was pre decided all by herself.
In this journey she rediscovers herself and the hidden qualities she had in her. She experiences drunkenness, fights off a thief in a hilarious way, dances in a bar but consciously stuffs her sweater back in her purse after swinging it wildly. She travels Paris with a friend she makes at the Hotel, shops with her and enjoys her life.
Then opens the chapter of Amsterdam for her, she has to share a room with 3 boys in a hostel! Though it sounds tough, she does it and the boys turn out to be quite good too. Friends happen to her automatically and she gets all that she never got from her boyfriend – Respect, praise, a job and even a lip-to-lip kiss! Rani’s character gradually builds confidence. Vijay, her boyfriend was the one who called her queen but gradually she becomes the queen to all her friends. And definitely she looks like a happy queen when she runs to the rock show in her beautiful white laces gown and high heels and open hair fluttering in the air.
No wonder this has been the best rated Bollywood film ever (as it’s flying about in the internet)
The film gives a lot of lessons, as far as I could decipher
1. You should never co-operate and remain suppressed in life
2. Respect your lover
3. Adventure teaches a lot
4. Make friends not by judging their appearance but by their heart
5. And that Kangana Ranaut is a fabulous actress
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She should get bagful of awards for her acting. Her character here was that of a middle class girl who fails to recognize a sex-toy shop, one who cannot speak proper English and mispronounces Alexander and names the man Sikandar. Direction of Vikas Bahl and the story stands out uniquely. The character analysis has been awesome, and so was the clever way of using foreign languages to make the audience feel equally helpless like the protagonist, to feel her situation. The film will make you laugh and wonder every minute; some of the scenes are really hilarious. I had personally loved the scenes when Kangana, orders food at a French restaurant and the waiter serves her disaster, once she ends up in embarrassing an Italian restaurant owner with her Indian sense of food, and the way she turns her face off from the Japanese boy named Taka when he tries to be friendly with her for the first time. One of the funniest sequences was when she gets drunk and endlessly recites the story of her life. The music is wonderful, in all Queen is a must watch for everyone.
Direction- 4.5/5, Acting-5/5, Plot- 3.5/5, Music- 4/5, Cinematography- 4/5