Chapter 1

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Guys! It's me, Haruka and it's another new story! I don't know when I'm gonna finish every stories! XD

Anyway, I've added ¹, ², ³ on the songs which I'll be putting in the songs list and * for glossary to let people know what are the meaning, or why the phrases are used (as it's a bengali story so it will have bengali and hindi metaphors and dialogues even some Indian movie reference)

*Shehnai's sound comes from the overly decorated pandal.

"Areeh waah! Decorations ta khub sundor hoyeche Ghatak da. (The decorations are perfect, Mr Ghatak.)"

"Haha!" Giving a proud smile Mr Ghatak says, "Dhanyabad dada! Sobi upor walar icha." (Thank you! Everything is the wish of God.)

Following by another set of pleasantries that the bengali families tend to throw at each other.

"We're glad you liked it. After all, we're going to be a family," the bride's father, Mr. Ghatak, a tall and sweet-tongued man says *pouring oil-expensive one-in his words as aunt Anu and Sulekha giggle as well as their husbands, and Mr. and Mrs. Banerjee following suit: my parents.

Whole Banerjees, Mukherjees and Chatterjees of our family enter through the gate which is decorated with plastic orchids and other kinds of non-existence plastic plants that nobody seems to paying any attention. Not that they are well aware of botany, but they are busy. Busy with gossips and spicy tales of their neighborhood.

"You know, the Das Bari(House)! Their youngest daughter ran away last night." A few gasps come as the aunty continues. "Apparently, it was a boy with whom she ran!" Another round of gasps continues the story.

The lights decorate most of the gate's big structure and there are various flower vases stand near their entrance. It is broad daylight of 11 a.m. in January. Still a cold day but in a wedding, nobody cares to wear warm clothes. Especially, the females who has left their sweaters and cardigans in the cars as it will be hard to show off their ornaments and expensive sarees-on which they probably have spent hours to annoy the poor shop keepers-in them. The men, however, have worn simple jackets, simple trousers and have kept their mint-condition-over twenty years old-tailored coats for tonight. Guess, men doesn't have anything to show off other than their leather jackets. So, we all come out from our cars and in our normal yet simple warm clothes which happens to be jackets.

"Aditya, let's go to a side," Dev whispers behind my ears as I stretch out my body. Well, after a long three and half hours ride Kolkata to Maithan, Jharkhand, my shoulders and joints have become stiff. Besides, we need our refreshments that is cigarettes.

"Let's go!" I nod as I trail behind him following our total bachelor group, however, Barun is not bachelor as he's already-sadly-married with Kanchana.

When entering the house, Kanchana glares at Barun and the sahnai song changes into 'Kuye me kud ke maar jaana, yaar tu shadi maat karna'¹. (Die by drowning in a well but friend, never get married)

Barun turns around, hides the cigarette in his closed fists and storms away to the nearest tree like a police officer has seen him in a non smocking zone.

I chuckle, "What? Afraid of your wife?"

"Yaar, I'm doomed after getting married. Don't ever do that man," he says and all of us burst out in laughter, "Angshu is so gonna regret it. I'm saying you."

"Oye, don't worry about Angshu, for now, we'll inhale cigarettes for you. At least, we can do this much for you, man," Amit says and we all laugh again as Barun groans.

Well, Angshu is my cousin and four years younger than me and today is his wedding. We haven't thought he's going to get married at least not before us but he's well settled and guess, he has always wanted it. Dev is his elder brother and we are like *chuddy-buddies and he's also happily unmarried.

Marriage is a no-no thing for me because, I don't get it how people manages to live with just one person through their entire life. It's like eating daal-chawal(rice) till you die. Not even tangri-kabab or Chicken nuggets, and forget about burger and pizza. No, I'm not reciting the quotes from Yeh Jawani, Hai Diwani* but it's a fact.

After acquiring a degree, I took over my dad's business and now, I'm well settled and enjoying my bachelor life. However, Angshu's marriage invitation just shook me like a thunderstorm hit my head and I was like 'What the (beep)' and guess what? It's an arrange marriage...and my next reaction was 'What the actual (beep)'.

Since I'm a gentleman, and gentleman doesn't swear in the open, I'll filter the words.

"Is it true you guys arranged his marriage?" I ask Dev. He inhales from his cigarette butt and nods, "Yeah, mom and dad found her."

"Well, she's cute," Amit says earning a glare from both me and Dev.

"Hey, relax, I'm not making any other points." He places his hands on the air as if surrendering, "I know, she's our sister in law."

Amit is the most flirtatious and clingy guy especially toward girls. And nobody could ever trust him as he manages to piss off anyone. Especially the boyfriends and husbands. I've known him like for nineteen years and somehow we're friends.

And there's Abhishek, Sandip and Kingshuk who are Angshu's childhood friends. They have all came from Kolkata to join their friend's doom.

"Uff! So cold!" Jatin says throwing his cigarette.

"I want to have tea," Kaushik says as he rubs his hands. Both Kaushik and Jatin are our childhood friends. No matter how older we are than Abhishek, Sandip and Kingshuk we all manage to get along pretty well. Especially when we are drinking or already drunk.

"Hey, guys, they're calling all of you. At least introduce yourselves to our would be sister in law," My sister, Trayi calls out from the gate.

We nod and head toward the house. It is a cottage with a big garden surrounding the area. Maithan is an amazing place with fresh air and everywhere you'll see only green, nothing else. Unlike Kolkata and Mumbai, here you could feel the cool breeze as it relaxes all the tiredness.

In their yard, they set chairs in a big circle where already our parents are present. We all gather there and sit.

"When is the time of *Haldi? Has the time went by?" My mom asks the bride's mom.

"No, no. It'll be in just a few hours. However, the *pandit has already started the rituals."

"Ah! Glad we made it in time."

"Of course!" She exclaims and a few young ladies come from behind her with trays full of sweets. "Here have some mithai," she says and gives us each a plate full of *Rosogolla, sandesh and jolvora. I don't like sweets but I like Rosogolla. After I moved out with my parents in Mumbai, we could barely eat Rosogolla. I still remember I loved it and our grandma used to make it for us.

My gaze fell on my brothers and sisters as they devour themselves in the sweets. We are all hungry as we woke up at 4 a.m. for the ritual *Dahi-chira and we didn't even have time to drink water as we needed to come to the bride's home with the turmeric paste(Haldi) of groom's. Angshu could not sleep as we all woke him up with the sound of *Sankha and Dhak. Nobody could sleep a wink in this exciting environment. Our house was full with only members of our big family and friends. Angshu's mom, Aunt Laxmi came with curd and chira and poured everything on his mouth as the ritual began.

I chuckle at the photos from this morning at his priceless expressions. His mouth was full with Dahi-chira and he could not even gulp nor he could chew.

While we are eating, the bride comes. Black curly hair with a cute face. She's tall and is wearing a yellow saree covering with a clothe on her shoulder. Perfect match for Angshu. Almost everyone in our family are tall. She comes and smiles as she struggles with her saree. She looks very young and I almost feel sad for her upcoming doom: marriage.

"Here comes our boudi(sister-in-law)," Amit says with a mouth full of sweets and Dev gives him a side glance.

"Don't say anything stupid," he whisper-warned Amit which he disregards with a smile.

"Please, sit with us and have some sweets."

This time my cousin sends daggers at him. Dev is super protective toward his brother's wife, Bratati as she is not only younger but most probably, will be the youngest of all of the siblings in our family. And Dev had been always protective toward our sisters. He could not stand bullies, molestors, rapists, abusers and murderers. That's why he became a criminal lawyer to fight against fraud and unjust. And he is very famous not to mention powerful.

"No! I can't eat while the ritual is going on," she says as her cheeks growing red.

"Have you done your breakfast?" Her mother asks from behind her. The younger parties shake their heads as now it is time for an actual event (to fill our bellies, of course).

"Oh! Don't need to get all riled up with that. We have." The old parties says as the music system blares the song 'Yeh jivan hai. Is jivan ka yehi hai, yehi hai rang rup'². (This is life. This is the true colour of it)

At this moment, I wonder who has selected the old song list which painfully fits our dire situation.

Now that the offer is turned down, it is the time when all of us, the younger generations, give them knowing glares as our stomachs have started to howl and eat itself. I don't know, who created this curtsy in bengalis to say no to food when someone offers. Saying, it shows your modesty. And Bengali people have it in every cells and fibers of them.

However, as we are bengalis and all bengalis know no matter how hungry we are we will never admit it to their faces to save our modesty, they have already brought the breakfast plates.

We all sigh as relief floods in us.

The plates consist with four pieces of luchi, cholar daal and bonde*. It is enough for us to fill our empty and growling stomachs.

If anyone asks what is the definition of concentration they should see us devouring the breakfast. As our first course ends, they come again with our second serving. I take another four pieces of luchi and hope if they mistakenly adds two more. Bengalis could eat a lot.

I remember when I was in a meeting with our Japanese investors, it was a terrible memory. In our lunch break, I decided to sit with them - again for modesty. And how I regretted it afterwards. My bowl of curd was two times bigger than their main course while it was only my dessert. At that time, I decided, I would never sit with foreign investors. Maybe I could share my lunch brakes with bengalis or Panjabi but never with Japanese.

All of my friends and I stuff down the food like we haven't eaten for a year and then our third course comes. Now it is a crucial decision to make, should we save our modesty or hunger?

A few glares from our parents say it all. Modesty wins over hunger and we all say, "No thanks! It's enough." For one hour at least. That we dare to say in front of our parents.

Now there follow a few audible burps which earns glares from our mothers.

While my sister gets along with the bride, Bratati, a horn hunks from outside. All of our gazes fell on a bike. It was black and it was Kawasaki ninja 650. I have always liked the bike and wanted to buy however, my business trips need a car. I tilt my head to see its owner and my eyes fall from their sockets as the bike enters the yard.

In a black pairs of jeans with a black leather jacket and a helmet on which monster is written in red paint, its owner stoped the bike as all of our jaws smash on the ground, together.

"Didi!" Bratati exclaims and runs toward the bike's owner. (Elder Sister!)

__________

- Now the glossary part -

Shehnai: A musical instrument originated from Indian subcontinent.

Pouring oil: It's a bengali phrase for someone who tries to impress other by their sweet talks. Almost everyone, every single person in bengal does that. XD

Chuddy-buddies: diapers-buddies

Yeh Jayani Hai Diwani: A bollywood movie, very funny one

Pandit: hindu priest

Rosogolla, sandesh, jolvora: Very famous sweets of bengal. You might wanna try one ;)

Sankha: Is a conch shell of rituals and religion importance of Hinduism and is a shell of large predatory see snail.

Dhak: Is a membranophone instrument from India. The shapes differ from cylindrical to a barrel. You should hear it. ;)

Luchi, chholar daal, bonde: Very famous dishes of bangal. Search the google

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Side note: In bengali rituals, there is a strict rule the bride or groom cannot eat until the puja and rituals are over however, now people doesn't care about the fasting part so they eat.

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-Rituals-


Dai-Chira: This ritual begins in the morning before sun rise as the bride and the groom cannot eat until Haldi. The elders mix curd(Dahi/Doi) with Chira(flattened rice) and with their own hands they feed the groom or the bride

Haldi: (Turmeric paste) first, everyone coats the groom then takes a small amount of it (the used turmeric paste) to send it to the bride's house as it will be used to coat the bride also. It's like indirect skin touch ;)

Note: All the rituals have scientific and touche meanings behind them

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Songs

1- Kuye me kudke maar jaana (1965)- Kishore kumar (Singer) & composed by Salil Chawdhury

2- Yeh Jivaan hai, is jivaan ka(1972)- Kishore kumar (singer) & composed by Laxmikant pyarelal

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19th September, 2020

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