To Marry or Not to Marry... a BONG

My tango with Bengalis starts when I'm 3. Both our next door neighbours are Bongs. The moment I smell fish, which is everyday of course, I climb over the fence, toddle straight into the neighbour's kitchen, watch the fish being cooked and come back home only after I've stuffed myself. My poor mother does not eat cakes and pastries to this day as they contain eggs. But for my sake, she learns to cook fish.

The tango culminates in my falling in love and marrying a Bong. My initiation into the Bengali community starts in the train itself, en route to my sasuraal. "If you want to impress a Bong guy," I'm taught by my wicked sisters-in-law, "just say to him - tumhi ekto boka chele." ... For a long time I think Bong guys are weird. I mean, who gives a girl a dirty look when she's paying him a compliment?

Then comes the wedding night. My younger bua saas informs me she's a doctor and I'm most welcome to consult her about family planning. My cheeks turn crimson. I come from a strict orthodox family in UP, where I'm just short of calling my dad "Sir." This openness is alien for me and leaves me aghast.

Not to be outdone, the older bua saas asks me the next morning - "Kaho, kaisi rahi? Success?" I turn a deep shade of magenta.

Wait, there's more. At breakfast, my husband's nephew gives me a red rose and proclaims I'm his first crush. Mind you, he's not a kid. He's around sixteen and a good few inches taller than me. I now look like a beetroot. I turn to my husband for help. He's busy gorging on luchi and paati saapta, unruffled by his nephew's confession. I point to the rose and gesticulate - what do I do? He says "Aww," stops eating for a minute and takes a picture of Bhatija, Biwi aur Gulab.

Time for bahu bhaat. I'm summoned to the kitchen by the elders and asked what I can cook. "I think I can boil eggs," I reply. Then add thoughtfully, "Do you need to stir the eggs or just let them boil on their own?" The elders look at each other and then at my mother-in-law with pity.  She averts her gaze and pretends not to have heard a word.

The elders tell me they'll take care of the meal, all I need to do is dress up as a nai naveli dulhan. It takes four sisters-in-law to wrap a sari around me. Now all that needs to be done, is the hair. I take out a side parting. Hubby dearest, who has no experience of these things, empties almost half the box of sindoor on my maang. So now I have a side parting covered in red, as thick and long as the red carpet at the Oscars.

Anyhow, the sari miraculously doesn't unravel and I'm served this huge thali of chappan bhog. GULP. It weighs more than all of my 35 kgs. And right in the centre of the plate is this huge fish head, with the eyes completely intact. A shiver runs down my spine as the cold dead accusing eye stares at me. Even today, whenever I try to cook or eat fish, those eyes haunt me and condemn me for murdering their brethren.

Thankfully the festivities are soon over and all of us settle down in our new roles. My father-in-law, who had been the toughest opponent to our wedding, is now my strongest supporter. There's something that puzzles me though. Every now and then he calls out - "Bauma... bauma." And every time he does that, I look around and wonder why this Bauma never answers. It takes me a good few days to figure out that he's actually calling me.

As I was saying, not only my father-in-law, but even my husband's girlfriend starts warming up to me. She stops barking every time he puts his arms around me and even lets me go into his room once in a while.

And so, life goes on, and so do the bloopers. The other day I inform my in-laws that we had shasuri for lunch. I'm supposed to say chechki. My father-in-law hoots with laughter. My mother-in-law, however, is not amused.

Issshhh... I know I've muddled my way into marrying a family that is mad, meddling, melodramatic but extremely passionate and has showered me with so much warmth, love and apnapan, that I wouldn't have it any other way.

Maike ki kabhi na yaad aai,

Sasuraal mein itna pyaar mila. 


Keep smiling friends. Keep ROFLing. Life is Beautiful :)