Last night was disturbing. I was scared that Ma would call up Chotomama and my little trickery would be out. I was literally biting my nails. Why the hell I had to do such blunders? Once, I even made up my mind to tell her the truth. But then I didn’t. Suddenly it occurred to me that if she asked why I lied in the first place I may end up using another lie.

Usually I don’t have secrets; always share with Ma the little details of my life. Ma has already heard ShowmikDa’s name. Normally, I would have told her that I met him at Esplanade and he had treated me at Anadi. Ma wouldn’t have smelled anything. But now if I go and tell her the truth she surely will. So stupid Sanjana had no other option but to face the consequences of her stupid little lie.

Showmik Da– how easily I could mention him to you diary. But that day I could not address him even once. Of course there was no necessity. In a conversation between first and second person, use of nouns is redundant. Pronouns rather than nouns do the job of addressing. But how should I address him when I see him next? or will I see him again? Next year Amrita and I may land up in a different world. In that case, she won’t even invite me to her birthdays. But something, some weird feeling in me says that I will meet him again and then the need of addressing him would arise then . But what makes me so sure? Todays’s meeting is just a coincidence. Co-incidences don’t get repeated.

Today I didn’t but I have to tell Amrita tomorrow. I must not repeat the same mistake I have done with Ma. If she learns from ShowmikDa—she will paint the picture to her convenience. How I hate calling him ShowmikDa. I never addressed my own brother Dada and he is a good six year older than me. I just call him Shan.

Addressing an elder brother by name is not a small offence. When little, he used to beat me for this but to no avail. I never changed my mode of addressing him. Granny lovingly called Dada “ Dadubhai” One day after he had given me a heavy dose of his displeasure I had started calling him Dadubhai. After another dose, I reverted back to the original address.

Though there was always a pinch of guilt associated with it, I kept on calling him Shan.That feeling of guilt had also dissipated once I had grown up. There was so many casual acquaintances, whom I to address as Dada the word lost its significance. Now it seems more suitable for the musclemen who control the area and eve-teasers on the rock; Shovan a , BabluDa, Javed Da – I have Dada’s of every shade and hues. Some of them even had sent me love-letters! So, it is only fair that there should be a difference in the mode of address between them and my own brother. The relationship between a brother and sister is special. He should not be addressed casually on par with mere acquaintances.

But few of my friends think like me. Once while sitting at the steps of TT room – I had told this to Rita; and see what answer I got! She said “ Sanju! You are talking exactly like Purabi. Did you have a session with her lately?”
I was shell-shocked. Purabi had bagged the 6th rank in Madhyamik . But cutting across the divide of HEP and Pati , everyone call Aatel—an intellectual sissy. And Rita thought I was one!

.” Come on. I didn’t say that you are an Aatel.It is just that you think of things that we don’t bother to even notice once.” She had apologized too.

I was hurt. But is there a grain of truth in her statement? Am I really weird?

 

 

http://bijaya-ghosh.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/08/pages-from-a-teenager-s-diary-6.htm