Assamese G Spot - Part I- Bihu Talks

( Picture courtesy Assam online)      

                                                                                           
 If you have come to this post expecting  enlightenment on a community's discovery of carnal pleasures, you are not far from the truth. Only, the G-spot here is the one that evokes Gastronomical orgasms. Whoever generated that  reprimanding idiom "eat to live and not live to eat", had surely met an Assamese or lived amidst a host of them till he could no longer digest all the food talk. He must have come away from that land of lahe lahe scarred for life, smelling of mustard oil, dazed with the array of fish and still more dazed with as many ways of cooking a particular fish as the number of scales blinking at the sun from its back. And the meat. And the greens. And the vegetables. And their combinations on the breakfast, lunch and dinner thaals. Thaals that are gleaming and reflecting the diner's face in all their bell metal avatar. 

Making the ritual calls to the host of relatives basking in the lap of the homeland, especially during the Bihu festivals, is a copy paste conversation. And that is where this post rose in all its marinaded, steamed and roasting form. What follows is a transcript of a typical tele conversation made to greet during Bihu...

" Hello! Magh bihur xewa jonalu!" ( If the receiver is elderly)

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 " Hello! Magh bihur ulog jasilu"      ( contemporary receiver)

" So how did you celebrate there? Did you have the Uruka ( Bihu community feast) last night?"

" Umm..yes.. just a  few of us got together for the evening. It's a working day here you know..."

" Oh! No holidays? Don't they have something like Lori..."

" Yeah,but Lohri is a day before Uruka. So..."

" So what did you eat?"

" The usual some fish, some meat..."

" Sitol and patha?"

" No, no sitol fish, it's difficult to get that here. We had rohu and chicken instead of mutton."

" Oh..."

" And today, did you have pitha, laru, doi sira?"

" Err no..."

" Oh..."

" Is Peha around?"

" Yes, he is sitting here right next to me. We are sitting around the meji having pitha, laru I made with til and gur...Last night he brought a two kg big sitol. It was a very good fish, full of oil and very tasty. Then I made mutton dry..."

" Hmmm...can I talk to Peha?"

" Hello! Happy Bihu!"

" Happy  Bihu Peha!"

" So did you have Uruka there?"

" Yes, yes,kind of..."

" So what did you eat? We had sitol fish and mutton your Pehi made so fine..."

" Yeah, she told me"

" Did you have pitha, laru today?"...

Next call made to a maternal uncle.

" Hello! Happy Bihu!"

" Oho!  Happy Bihu to you too! So what did you do for Uruka?"

" Yeah,we kind of got together and ate..."

" What did you eat? Sitol and mutton?"

Sigh!

" No. We had rohu and chicken."

" Oh! Our neighbours made some excellent kalia with the sitol, we also had some fried pieces on the side as snacks sitting around the fire...and your mami made some excellent mutton in an iron kerahi on wood fire... "

" Nice"

" Then Pona landed up with fine pork meat which we skewered it over fire... Ah! It went off very well yesterday." 

" Good. That must have been quite a feast...What about your acidity?"

" Ah yes!What about it! I had some antacids. We are having pitha, laru in front of the meji now. Did you get any pitha, laru?"

" No. Just made some coconut laru.."

" Good good. Here talk to Pona..."

" Hello Happy Bihu! So what did you do last night..."

Gritting the teeth and pulling the hair out. Strand by strand.

And so went the next call to mother's brother, and the one to husband's  aunt, and the one to the husband's mother's aunt's daughter, continued with the neighbour who happened to be sitting there, and the aunt's sister whom I had not seen but who happened to be there.

So when the dry cleaners called up to deliver my package, he got a dose of the conversation,

" How was the sitol fish  and who made the mutton..."

"Madam? Err.. is this 9********?"

"...and the laru must have been tasty..." Suddenly I am jolted out by the sound of numbers.
 "Yes? Who is this?"

" Madam, I am calling from the dry cleaners..."

"Oh! Okay...yes...tell me?"

Be warned. If you are calling up Assamese friends during the Bihu season, you might be asked about the victuals that went  down your gullet for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Do excuse the poor soul who is probably still dazed by the deluge of gastronomical tele conversations with folks back home.

Will The Real Mother Stand Up?

Courtesy    Free Photos

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         All the brouhaha has subsided and the declarations of love for the mothers and salute to motherhood have died down for the next 364 days. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against all the beautiful sepia toned snaps as status updates or the the notes of gratitude dedicated. I am, because I too have one. And I share her with two other siblings. And no. This isn't another one dedicated to one more mother. In fact, this post is to pose a question to all the mothers. You have had your share of limelight on the 10th of May and are mighty pleased with the attention showered by the worthy offsprings. There have been accounts of how youngsters have been emotionally blackmailed and threatened by the mothers to change their 'dp', status updates with the loving mom's snap in all social media or groups worth their bytes, short of probably fixing them on bank papers. Mothers too demand their pound of flesh to flaunt on wherever they exist digitally. Hmmm... just made me wonder whether the Mother India  avatar had changed with times. But no, that incarnation also comes in handy when nothing else works. More of that later.Well, actually these niggling thoughts have been plaguing me of late and what I elaborate on, may tantamount to blasphemy.

  Shall we recall a regular scenario of the neighbourhood park where you may have strolled in with the apple of your eye awaiting compliments at how well your genes have manifested. You have enjoyed all the cooing and the warm glances thrown at the bundle in your arms by total strangers. Back home when you have recounted the delightful little details to your neighbours or the others in the family, the comparisons cropped up. " Oh! When my Chunnu was this young, the entire neighbourhood would be fighting over each other to hold him..." In all those noddings and affectionate clicking of tongues, somewhere deep down a tiny bit of resentment crept in for having tried to hijack the attention showered on your darling. As they grow up and you get older, it only gets more obsessive. This desire to have constant spotlight on your own.  

   Or shall we talk about the time when your child was not selected for a competition or a race and that just didn't go down too well with you. Instead of saying " maybe he or she was better than you", did you say " let me go and talk to your teacher and find out"? Did you just plant the seed of cut throatism instead of striving for a healthy competition? Or the time when your neighbour's daughter got into the most sought after engineering college, did you badger your own to follow her footsteps? You want your own to stand out and yet you push them into a herd.

  And then you have sighed and recalled the great difficulties surmounted when raising them. The sacrifices made. The opportunities missed. The sleepless nights. The more you repeat the more the child grows up thinking what a tyrant he or she has been. The more he or she thinks thus, the halo around your head just gets bigger and brighter. And you have got them right there. Wound around your little finger, your creation is your entitlement. Never mind that they could have a mind of their own.  

   You would say, they are your own. They ought to be aware of every hardship faced by you in bringing them up. But then every mother is saying the same to their's. Tell me something... did the child beg to be born? Now, of course I shall not get into the details of their conception. The child came into this world because you wished it to. Well! When you did wish one of your own, but naturally, the onus of raising it lay with you. There is no  best way to raise them. How you raise them shapes them as individuals. I have seen mothers jumping into the fray when children are squabbling at play.
" Why are you not playing with my Minni?"
Children will play and children will fight. They will go back to playing again forgetting the past. Adults need to keep their eyes and ears open not their mouth. Do intervene if it gets out of hand but let them sort it out first. In most cases they do a wonderful job of it when left to their own devices. These are important life skills. The ability to sort out one's own issues instead of waiting for someone else to do the dirty job. If they have made a mistake, encourage them to accept it and make amends instead of conjuring a smokescreen of excuses. Most often the general perception is that your's is the cherubic angel who can do no wrong and the 'other' is the red horned devil. And this rosy tinted vision continues well after they have tied the knot and have had children of their own. Your child can do no wrong. Just step back a little and see that they are all children. There is no harm in embracing the 'other' child with all his little imperfections.

   Why am I saying all this? Of course there has been no dearth of illustrations borne out of your children's matrimony. Yes, yes the TV serials have only added fuel to the ghar ghar ki kahanis and the family politics theories.  The daughters-in-law are these scheming beings who  need to be shown their right places while the daughters are not to be taxed with unwanted burdens. The sons-in-law ought to be paying more attention to their wives while the sons should be advised subtlely to keep the wives in check. More so, because you have toiled hard to raise them and now the wife reaps all the benefits. This is the time when the Nirupa Roy and the Mother India incarnation comes in very handy. This play of power within the family will continue as long as people marry and refuse to grow up as individuals.

   The reason why I think on these lines is because the role of the mother is much higher than these petty skirmishes. In the light of two incidents in Delhi, all the mothers need to do a reality check. A mother allegedly incited and instigated her teenaged son to thrash a rash DTC bus driver who later succumbed to his injuries. Now the teenager's future is in doldrums. The mother forgot to learn and impart an important lesson " as you sow so shall you reap". Your actions and your reactions in a given situation will catch up with you sooner or later.

  The second incident was the 'bricking' of a traffic constable by a mother in front of her children. First the mother jumps the red light and then refuses to produce the necessary documents when asked for by the traffic police. She allegedly gets abusive and the situation turns for worse. And all this, in the presence of her own school going children. What a contradiction in the lessons learnt in school and lessons perceived in the real world! If the lady had any sense she should have owned up her mistake, shown her documents and paid the fine. If she had any courage she should have told her children that the traffic cop was doing his duty and that the law exists for our protection and safety. The children would have imbibed an important lesson in honesty, civic duty and courage what hours in a classroom would not have achieved. Most importantly she would have earned their respect.

   Is it fair to ask for a better world when you have not contributed in any way to build it? You may lament about the indifferent, callous and inhuman ways of the world but remember to ask whether you sowed  the right seeds. You may go hoarse telling the child the dos and the don'ts but they will register in their impressionable minds only what they see and perceive. So be a Real Mother and help your child to take the right step forward with a sound judgement. Don't tell the child. Show the child how you do it.