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LADIES CORNER - MEMOIRS.
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FROM A GIRL TO A LADY
Here is a poignant tale from a Mohun Bagani wife and mother, as told to her daughter Indrani, a member of the Mohun Bagan fan club:
It was late July in 1969 when my father announced that somebody is coming to our house to see me. I was a student of 2nd year BA then. It was not good news for me, though at that time it was a normal incident for a college going girl. But to me, it was as if someone was coming to see me just like the medieval people chose a slave in the slave market. There were heated words between my mother and me. But I had no courage to stand up to my father and tell him that I do not like this kind of arranged marriages. I was rather tense that day when the parents and the candidate (don't laugh, this was the term used by my cousin) were coming.
From the morning, everybody was in a festive mood. We had a big joint family. My sisters-in-law and elder sisters were giving me instructions, what to do, and what not to do. I was hearing nothing. You may be thinking, how is this incident related to Mohun Bagan. Wait, let me tell you the whole story.
In the evening, the so called 'Patropokhyo' had arrived. Someone told me that the 'Patro' is a black fatty guy, perspiring constantly. That made me more tense. Then came my mother, she said that I have to wait, because the 'Chhele' had not come with his parents, he would arrive later. It was raining like anything. I was alone in our big bedroom. Minutes passed like hours. Then came my mother again. She asked me to come with her. I was trembling. Though my family was open-minded, and I was a college going girl and had some male friends, this was all something very different. Something that could change my life forever. Ma told me that since the 'Chhele' had not come yet, the parents would see me. I don't know why, but I was disappointed a lot!
I entered the room; there was a man with a huge moustache and a spectacle, wearing dhuti-panjabi and carrying a walking stick in his left hand. Opposite to him was my father, also dressed in the same fashion. And I saw a lady, very soft looking, just like my mother. She came and took me in her arms, and asked me not to be afraid. Then she took me with her to the couch. She told me that her son had not arrived yet. He had some very urgent official work, but he will arrive soon.
While my father and my would-be father were talking about some government policies, the two mothers were discussing the rituals of the two families. I was sitting there like a doll. When will all this end? Then came a typical Bengali 'Hoichoi' from the outside. Somebody shouted "Esheche go - eshe gyache". It was the 'Patro'. He had arrived. Someone was coming in very fast, I could hear the footsteps. Then he came in - soaked in water, with black mud on his feet and trousers. Immediately after entering the room, he paused for a while, searching for someone. As soon as he located his father, he shouted "Teen goal merechhi, Baba, ki khela, bhabteo parbe na." His mother was feeling uncomfortable and so were my parents. But his father stood up and shouted "Ei khobortar jonyoi kokhon theke boshe achhi, boli o Bihari Babu (my father), ki subhodin dekechen? Ma Lokkhi ke dekhte esei Bijoy Lokkhi ghore dhukechhen, ami paka kota die gelum apnake. Ma Lokkhi amar ghorei jaben." Most surprisingly, my father approached the 'Patro' and asked "Ke ke goal dilo? Eeeesshh, amar deka holo na."
Now you can imagine what happened afterwards. The ‘Patro’ had no urgent official work. It was some final match involving Mohun Bagan, and that fellow was coming straight from the ground. After that I had no further role to play. The people even forgot about my existence in that room! My father shouted "Shob thanda hoye gelo, tatka gorom bheje ano shob." Then there was only one word roaming in that big room - MOHUN BAGAN. Sometime later, my mother asked her counterpart "Cholun bhai bhetore, bujhte perechhi apnar o barite sei ek-e obostha." I suddenly realised that my tension, my nervousness were all gone. I was in a light mood. Everything was feeling good. Even that guy, soaked with water and mud, hair like a porcupine's quills, my would-be husband. He was literally shouting about the game with my two elder brothers.
That day, one victory of this club changed my life. My whole life. That young man is a 60 year old veteran now. I have become a grandmother. But till today, every season, every occasion, every festival that come to us, has a special flavour, and that flavour is Mohun Bagan.
Narrated by Srabanti Chakraborty
written by Indrani Chakraborty
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