When Mona mashi came down to Bangalore...

“IC-802 from Kolkata is arriving shortly…,” announced a mellifluous voice.
I walked up to the Arrival lobby. Already a small crowd had gathered over there. I pushed my way right up to the front row, and murmured a few insincere apologies.

It was not at all hard to figure out Mona mashi even in a crowd of three hundred people, for she has always been above-average than any other Bengali women, both in terms of her weight and personality.
Mona mashi is my mother’s elder sister. She had come down to Bangalore to spend a few days with me in the city. Since childhood I have been very afraid of her, maybe because of her daunting voice and the amazing personality that she possessed. And what I gathered from my friends is that I was not the only one who was afraid of her, there were many others…especially her students. She has been serving as the principal of a school in Kolkata for more than a decade now and her students often refer to her as ‘Lady Hitler’ for reasons that I need not explain!

“Mona mashi! Mona mashi!,” I shouted and waved at her to draw her attention.
She quickly noticed me and waved back.
She was wearing an off-white Tantuja tashor saree with a wide red border. The huge red bindi on her forehead and the golden frame spectacle gave her the typical middle-aged Bengali women look. She was carrying the latest issues of the Desh and Sananda patrika, which she must have picked up at the Kolkata airport lounge.
‘She hasn’t changed a bit over the years,’ I wondered.

It took almost two hours to reach my Indiranagar house from the airport. The frequent traffic jams have crippled the city of late. Mona mashi seemed to be a bit disappointed by this poor management of traffic and she commented, “Ekhaneo ekyi abostha?! (here also it’s all the same!)” I guess she had not imagined that this menacing problem of Kolkata will follow her up to this so-called “Hi-Tech” city.

In the evening, I decided to take her to a mall, named Forum.
“Don’t these people have taxis in this city?” she enquired as I tried to signal at the snobbish autowallahs who never seem to be too eager to get passengers.
“No, taxis are very expensive here. Minimum fare will be around Rs150,” I replied.
“What?!...150!!”
She kept staring at me in disbelief and probably she concluded that I was joking. I realized that I had a tough time ahead of me if I tried to enlighten her about the normal prices of things in B’lore. Her socialist mindset might not be able to grasp these figures!
We reached Forum at around 6:00 pm. The dazzling lights and the fountains impressed Mona mashi. She overwhelmingly said that it was like an experience of coming to a foreign country. I smiled, for I knew that her praises for this mall won’t last for long!

Mona mashi was a bit reluctant to use the escalator. I had to convince her that these too were as safe as the escalators that she rode at the Robindro Sadan Metro Station of Kolkata.
We went around visiting the shops.
“Bolish ki re?!” exclaimed Mona mashi raising her eyebrows with wonder when she heard that Cookies are sold at Rs20 per piece over here. Once she almost fainted on hearing that the cold coffee we had at Coffee Day was for 60 bucks.
But she got the shock of her life when she went to bargain over the prices of sweets at an outlet.
“Seven rupees for a Langcha (Bengali version of Jamun)!! That’s atrocious!” she shouted out, turning towards me for support. I realized that it’s time to hurry her out of the place. I gave an inane smile at the baffled shop-owner and rushed her out before she created more trouble.
“Arre, why do you tolerate all these?! They are cheating people everywhere! This is such a wretched place!” she shouted as I tried desperately to get an auto.
“You need a Communist Government here!” she announced and continued, “How will a common man survive here?”
I had no answers to her questions. I just said, “Mashi eta kolkata noi, eta Bangalore, the prices are like this only over here.”
“Kolkata is not this bad! Even a poor man gets to have a meal a day over there!!”
I didn’t dare to reason with her much.

On the way back home she kept on talking about how important socialism is and how our great leaders have always worked for the grass-root workers. It was almost 10:00 pm when we reached home; I gave a 100 rupee note to the autowallah and whisked him away.
“Shaitan! Bodmash!” Mona mashi cursed the autowallah when she realized that he had taken one and half times the fare since it was already 9:30pm. I tried to cool her down, but she was still to recover from all the shocks and was smoldering inside.

After all this, I need not say that she didn’t like the city at all. She kept on complaining about the prices and whined about the lack of traditions. On one occasion she had seen a girl smoking in public and concluded that this lifestyle was against the Indian culture. “All our girls wear sarees, they look so good in them” she had commented. I tried my best to recreate a homely ambience for her, and played Robindro songeet all day, took her to Bengali restaurants and got her some Bengali books to read from my friends. But I knew that she wasn’t happy with Bangalore, especially the lifestyle of the people. I guess it is difficult Bengalis to adapt to this life because of their inherent socialist ideologies! She kept counting the days of her stay, eagerly waiting to go back. She was like a fish out of water over here and I knew it quite well, and so I never asked her to extend her stay.


A few days later a letter came to me from my Mother. It read:
“…your Mona mashi had called me up yesterday. She said that she enjoyed her stay in Bangalore. It was nice to hear that you have taken so much care of her, spent time with her and she even said that you have grown up into a responsible young man. I am so happy to hear it. She said that Bangalore was a very nice city and she had liked staying at your house…..”

As I folded the letter and kept it back into its envelope, I wondered why Mona mashi didn’t tell her the truth!!