With Badsha Mama
I have never had an intimacy with Badsha Mama. But we lived in the same house. Badsha Mama in one of the two beds in the southernmost room of the second floor, me and Nabumama in the other. Badsha Mama has not been seen all day. I never knew when he would return at night. Gone before waking up. When I woke up in some way, I saw what he was reading humming. On the day when he was in a good mood, he would say happily, Ranju, listen, let me see how it is. I do not know what to do. Mama stood up, waved his hand and started saying-
Let's go to this lesson,
There is no harm
But you are three days
Where to go?
His throat was full, and all the houses trembled. He would stop in the middle and say, wait, the dress is not worn later, it is not good without the dress. Get up, wake up Nabu. When Nabumama woke up, she would cry for the first time. Badsha mama used to get annoyed and say, - Donkey! Don't look at what I'm doing. Then both of them looked at Badsha Mama with a yes. He opened the cupboard, took out the crown, and put on the garland. Then he continues to act alone. We are looking at the two children with fascinated eyes.
Badsha Mama is a distant person to us from the very beginning. The one who showed us the performance at midnight after the lace dress, he can’t be the closest person. He is also party-free to the people of the house. Nanajan once kicked him out of the house when he was very young. The boy who runs away from school and goes on a pilgrimage cannot be kept at home by people like Nanajan. Hearing the news, the little Nanijan stopped eating and drinking. Die! Nanajan sent people and brought back Badsha Mama. Since then, he did not hurt the king! Badsha mama is also in your mind.
Badsha Mama strongly attracted my childish mind. The artist always attracts children. Maybe the children get the news of talent first, but Badsha Mama was very unhappy. He could not easily mix with the people of the pilgrimage because of the social status he had. But the whole world of his thoughts surrounds the pilgrimage. Occasionally I saw him, sitting quietly on the porch to get a chair. If I go and say,
What does Mama do?
Nothing.
From morning to evening, Mama is still sitting. If anyone goes and says,
King, what happened to you, Ray?
Nothing.
Sometimes he would be like this. Nanajan used to get angry then. He used to call his little grandma and say, has he broken? It's okay to beat with a strong fist, understand? Nanijan mumbled and tried to explain. Then he was seen standing at the back of the house, weeping profusely.
We were all afraid of Nanajan. If he came down from the second floor to the first floor, the first floor would be silent. Very young children, who have not yet been judged, would also have turned pale when they saw Nanajan. Fear is also highly contagious.
Nanajan woke up in the morning to the sound of Quran recitation. Thick throat, a little nasal melody for a long time. At that time he was wearing a phase hat with a red jhuti. Bare body, wearing white lungi of Sindh. He used to sit in a chair with a handle and read for a long time. When he finished reading, he would sit quietly for a while. Little Nanijan used to make a big bowl of tea in a jam-bowl at this time and take it away. Nanajan used to drink tea for a long time. Then he would open the duck's den with his own hands. Next to the chicken coop, he would not even touch it. He would run towards the pond without the ducks. He also went after her. Everything is a routine obstacle, there is no need to go back and forth.
Some people make their own destiny, while some people get their destiny by themselves. Nanajan does not fall into either of these two. The wealth and honor built up by the ancestors has been nurtured. But did not become incontinent. Arrogance was very, he could express arrogance humbly. Maybe a relative came to visit; Nanajan has become busy. He says again and again, you have come to the house of the poor, with what do you serve, I have fallen into great sorrow, great sorrow is yours; Bring him some tobacco, and catch the Khasi and see a good one. Whoever came, he would be ashamed to see the excess of organization.
Thirty-five years ago. Writing from memory. He can trust the memory. Nanajan had no interest in us boys. Lived alone. All the time. Big Nanijan was somewhat unrealistic. He used to come down from the second floor. Kale-bhadre. I have never seen even a small Nanijan talking to Nanajan in a light tone. The aunts also lived far away like us. Powerful people always lead such lonely lives.
I don't know why, I wish I could think with my grandparents. I thought for a long time before going to sleep, as if Nanajan was coming and telling me, let's go for a walk. I walked holding his hand. How long have I thought I would wake up today and go and stand in front of Nanajan's house.
But he is no more. I am in a hurry to wake up, to do ablution, to do ablution. Mr. Maulvi is sitting in the outer room. We are all appearing one by one with ampara hands. The girls are on the right, the boys are on the left. A voice is rising in the assembled voice, Alif is two pesh un, Bay is two pesh bun. Breakfast is ready, just read Arabic. Then read English, Bengali and Maths. Ram Master used to come to teach. Heavy good master. He used to walk limping. Made without Nabumama -
Ram Master is old
One leg is his lameness
He used to teach till he went to school. Only boys read to him. The girls did not need to read anything other than Arabic. They used to do housework, make herb flowers with lace, write designs on the pillow fence, don't get me wrong. It would have been school time for Ram Master to leave. After school, the lesson of the game. The sun is setting and dark
Amazing