A Mad Trip Into The Mad World of my Mad Family - Part II

Like in all comedy of errors, for a drive that should have ideally taken us only two and a half hours, it took us a good six hours to reach Guruji's house in a hamlet in Temathani, a little ahead of Katakhali. The route got more difficult as we neared his house. Kachha roads, made slushy and slippery in the rains, narrow enough only to precariously accommodate our car's breadth on it's extreme ends. Dad was driving with calculated confidence, uncle was holding on to his seat, as if it were his dear life, and aunty and mom letting out yelps of fear with every lurch and calling out to the Gods to protect us. I was unconcerned, confident about dad's driving skills, but worried that the Gods might punish us again for the shrill shrieks of the women were annoying, distracting and scaring dad more than the tricky road ahead of us.

We reached our destination at around noon and toppled out or the car, feeling suddenly clammy - because of the humidity after the AC and the shy, almost reverential and somewhat inquisitive gazes of the dozen or so village children who had appeared from nowhere. Afraid of annoying us in any way, they kept shouting instructions to each other keep out of our way, except aunty's, who was a regular to Guruji's abode in the hamlet. The kids had come to expect her to distribute candies to them every hour. Guruji's own and adopted family of sorts came rushing out with sunny smiles and welcomed us with a lot of warmth. It was all very endearing and nice.

Guruji has made his house himself, with some assistance from his man friday - Prahlad, the local carpenter, a semi-trained electrician and an amateur mason. (Guruji is actually an engineer by education, he turned to spirituality quite late in life). It's a clay house with two floors, and very cool despite the infamous Bengali summers. The bathroom and toilet, located on the ground floor is tiled, and has a tubewell that brings in the water from the pond located behind the house. There are no taps. It was fun using the bathroom (okay... I know I am sounding crazy now). The kitchen was huge and as guests, we weren't allowed to enter it, and we were always served our food on banana leaves on the floor in the area outside the kitchen. It was all so simple yet so lovingly done for us, and it reminded me so much of my childhood and the weddings and occasions in those days, when eating on the terrace, on banana leaves was the happy ritualistic norm.

Dad, uncle and guruji had meetings set for the day, where dad, being a businessman, was to tell the local farmers, fishermen and small traders how to conduct their businesses or transactions more efficiently and improve their standard of living, and maybe make them aware of government initiatives that could save them from being swindled by middlemen. After they were gone, aunty and mom and I sat with the ladies for a short while and then got back to resting, for no one had had sufficient sleep. Post lunch, that consisted of lots of deep fried vegetables - begun, potol, aaloo, bhendi- maachh bhaja, maachher jhol, shukto and bhaat (fried brinjal, pointed gourd, potato, lady finger, fish fry, the famous Bengali fish curry, a special Bengali preparation with all kinds of vegetables and rice),  satisfied and full, we went back to our room again and this time I slept soundly. 
[Pssst... don't judge me, but I think I wrote these lines about food the fastest and most enthusiastically. An Oriya does love food.]

The evening was balmy too, but the cool breeze wafting and bringing along with it a beautiful combination of scents of summery blossoms made it very pleasurable to sit outside in the temple's courtyard. The temple, also built by guruji in 1982 is a Radha-Krishna temple, small, but beautifully and dutifully managed. The evening aarti was done and the incense of sandal and jasmine too soothed and calmed us. I was listening to songs again, this time on speaker, while mother and aunty were talking (yes, again! some calibre they have!) I had gotten along the packet of candies for the kids and after I distributed it among them, I made friends with them as they played with my cell phone and scrolled across its menu using the tracking ball. They were thrilled and in wonderment. The eldest among them was 10 years old. They go to school and seemed aware about a lot of things when I quizzed them about their studies. But it was funniest when the tracking ball was scrolled down to the internet icon, and looking at the animation one of the younger in the lot exclaimed in excitement, "hai go! pruthibi ta ghuriya jaye re!" (Hey! The world's going round!)

The kids took me around the hamlet, showing me their playground, the guava trees they play near and their school. It was a nice walk, except for the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at like I were a celebrity. It was embarrassing initially, but once I smiled back at a few ladies outside a house, they started to talk to me, and it wasn't as embarrassing anymore. I came back to guruji's house once it was dark and there were so many mosquitoes, I was afraid that an armada of them would carry me off to some other place. Also, the power supply chose to give up on us. Apparently it was the weekly evening haat that day, and so, the voltage was very low. Amidst all the voices around me, I sat thinking about the way my life had been shaped by recent events. I had been pensive, a litttle hopeless. I was quite directionless at the moment.

We kept sitting in the courtyard till about 9:30 pm, occasionally chit-chatting with the household women, till dad, uncle and guruji came back from their meetings. They seemed tired and the day ended quite uneventfully, with simple dinner and all of us retiring to our rooms for the night. While uncle and dad slept in guruji's study (which had a couple of nice beds laid out), and aunty, mom and I shared another room on the first floor. The pooja was to be tomorrow, and I had started to feel butterflies in my stomach. I decided to listen to music, and go to sleep to calm myself . I did, only by thinking of some nice moments I had had and some comforting words I had been told. I had a feeling I was going to handle things just fine. After a long time, I smiled myself to sleep, not a happy smile; but just comforted enough.