Perpetually perplexed Kokulu thought, Again this Dodo and Bajana was back inside the black rectangular book like box! How come this happened time and again? At first they are with me. Then they disappear. And then they reappear in the rectangle box. How did Bajana and Dodolina fit inside this box. Did they squeeze squash and then squirm inside the box. Was it some magic pill they took to become diminutive downsized dwarfs? Kokulu thought and thought. As he gazed wistfully, perplexed beyond the bush of Australia. Kokulu, was just settling down to having a bawling screaming tantrum when...out of the blue of the peacocks throat, Dodo began her usual antics inside the box. She danced, flapped her arms like a penguin, darted her head this way and that like a geleri/squirrel that ran amok in the Ban ga loo loo house all day. Gestured and narrated bizarre riveting stories of the minew, the kala kuttah, the bakri, the muggi, the bhaath/ butterfly, the dra gon fly, the chitis and Mr and Mrs Mose/mouse. Making me mesmerised. And then as usual Dodo sang the songs: doh dhrops sanine/ doe a deer, ye kaali kaali ankhen, o Sariya and her favourite, Pagla hawa, pakheder oi patshalate, rolling her eyes like a Kathak Kali dancer and moving her eyebrows like a verme/worm. Dodo was like the notun gurer shondesh/new jaggery sweet meat . One never forgot the taste once you had tasted it. The gur just clung to your taste buds smoky, sweet, smooth treacle like dhrops/ drops. And in all this sometimes Dodo eyes gleamed luminously as she invited her Ma and Baba in her imagination fascination to join her. Kokulu knew about this fascination Dodolina had for her parents. Many times when he was a tiny Doey/joey Dodo would whisper and ask me, who are you? Are you Ma, Baba, Balloon Mashi, Didima? Dodos parents, her Mammas sister Utpala Sen, her Dodolina, Hironbala Ghosh. Ufff! This Dodo was great fun to have around, dancing like a crazy Dimma Koala gone a loony tunes. Her only downer was the cleaning of me, changing, bathing, combing, washing my face, poking my ears with ear buds, cutting my nails. And feeding me. If I was perky while eating she would say loudly in soft tones, I dont like naughty children! While I opened my lungs out in a full gusto bellow knowing either Bajana or Mamma would save me. But none dared to come in as ufff!!! This Dodo li na could sulk and fume. Till I could literarily see invisible smoke billowing out of her oblong shaped Bengali Koala ears. This Dodo and Bajana who I called, Babyjan many times were incredible pantomime actors. And great fun to be around with. Bajana and Kokulu had various holes in the matti/soil to hide wealth in. Stones, odd twigs, a piece of stary wire. Next day they would treasure hunt this out. Bajana let Kokulu drive around, Chunny Brooks/Sunny Brooks. Kokuku loved turning the wheel around, left, right, left. But now they were trapped and reduced to a black rectangular book box. Kokulu sighed as usual perplexed and bewildered. Singing, why is the Dodo so small? Why is the Bajana so reduced? Why is the box so small. And loooove, this is my Dodo, this is my Bajana in a rectangular box. Petula Clarks song, Love this is my song.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 08:39:33 +0000
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