Mashima Meshomoshai in South East Asia

মাসিমা মেশোমশাই সাউথ ইস্ট এশিয়া তে 

Sandeep had done well for himself. Given the fact that he was a posthumous child and lost his mother too, when he entered college at eighteen, he had indeed come a long way.

By a strange quirk of fate, his next-door neighbours, whom he called Mashima & Meshomoshai ever since he was this big, came forward to take care of him and guide him into adulthood after his mother’s demise – while his relatives, on both his mother’s and father’s sides, hummed and hawed and scratched their heads. The neighbours said many things about what aided their decision. But Sandeep knew better. He found solace and happiness in their company right from the day he had started to dash out his front door and run over to his “Matim” and “Putum” – in his birthday suit, sometimes. It was many years before he converted to the more formal “Meshomoshai” from “Putum”.

A highly jovial couple, steeped in tradition, god-fearing and yet with a strong taste for things modern, they seemed extremely happy with each other.  Meshomoshai had once been on a six-month vocational training trip to Europe some half a century ago, and the flow of stories never stopped since. At the end of every such story session Mashima would pick up a fight saying that he never bothered to take her on that trip, and had written home only once during those six months, and that she did not believe half of what he said. 

Mashima also had another complaint – whenever Meshomoshai would be away on a business trip, he would write home regularly, but always on a post-card, and the mailman would, apparently, stand in front of the house, read the letter and then drop it into their box. That drove Mashima hopping mad – but she could never figure out whom to chastise – Meshomoshai, or the mailman. The postcard issue was resolved permanently when Meshomoshai retired from active service.

The other thing they always fought over was the choice of places to visit. Mashima wanted to visit the famous pilgrimage spots - "তীর্থ করতে যাব... " and Meshomoshai was intrinsically allergic to it. Thus it was always the mountains or the sea for them, with the odd temple visit thrown in – and over the years they had covered a significant part of India, filling their home with pictures and albums.

Age had caught up with them; the trips had become infrequent, maybe once in two years– the number of daily pills was going up, and dietary restrictions were coming in – but that did nothing to dampen their free spirits. Meshomoshai summed it up nicely, "ও ডাক্তার বলেছে, তাই ওষুধ খাই, আমার দরকার নেই।" Mashima too acknowledged, “ঠিক তাই।"

Then Sandeep got a job with a posting in south-east Asia. He would be based out of Singapore and touring Malaysia and Indonesia extensively. Mashima and Meshomoshai were thrilled. Meshomoshai got him into a corner and started lecturing about life and travel abroad, when Mashima came in and observed, "কি বলছো বলো তো ? পঞ্চাশ বছরে কত কিছু পাল্টে গেছে। ... তুমি কি সেটা ভেবেছ ? আর ওতো এমনি প্রচুর ঘোরে।" Thus ended Sandeep’s briefing.

Before he left India, Sandeep installed a PC with an internet connection, set up an email ID for them and taught them how to use email. Mashima was stunned.  "আচ্ছা, দেখ তোর মেশোমশাই তো এসব করেনি বিলেত যাবার আগে ?" Sandeep explained that this was unthinkable fifty years ago. He also filed their passport applications and asked them to follow up. Then he was gone.

He maintained regular contact over phone and email and then after a few months, when both of them had received their brand new passports, he planned out a trip for them. He got a travel agent to get their visas and air tickets done, and then wrote out a long mail, instructing them how to pass through customs and immigration. He also advised them on how to find their way around international airport terminals.

Meshomoshai asked him over the phone, "এত কিছু করতে হবে নাকি ? কই আমরা যখন গিয়েছিলাম তখন তো শুধু passport লাগত - আর বাকি সব ওরা করে দিত। সেটা অবশ্য জাহাজে। প্লেনের ব্যাপারটা আলাদা - তাই না ?"

Sandeep explained that he had gone as a member of a government of India team, and that too, so long ago, and a lot of things have changed since. There was no "ওরা" – he would have to do everything himself. Then Mashima took over. "তোর জন্য পোস্ত আর কিছু পটল নিয়ে যাব। তুই পটলভাজা আর পোস্তর বড়া খেতে ভালোবাসিস।" 

Sandeep was aghast. It took him fifteen minutes to convince her that she could not travel with “posto” (posto – poppy seeds, a prized culinary option amongst Bengalees) – it would land her in the lockup of the anti-narcotics bureau, if not in India, then definitely in south-east Asia. He also said that “potol” was indeed available in these parts, only they did not look like the ones back home. 

He also instructed them not to carry anything for making the occasional “paan” that they had after lunch. He narrated the story of how one friend of his was holed up in the lockup of the DEA at JFK airport for well over five hours simply because he was carrying a few small packets of “Zarda” that were sniffed out by the police dogs. That did dampen their spirits somewhat, he thought.

Sandeep also asked them to travel light…. Mashima had packed about fifteen saris for those five days… It took quite a few phone calls from him and a lot of convincing from Meshomoshai to reduce the volume of her baggage…..

He marked their arrival date on his calendar. As he was waiting at the airport, the thought of the last conversation with Meshomoshai flitted through his mind… "এই শোন অনেক দিন pork, beef আর scotch whisky খাইনি, খাওয়াবি তো ? Pork টা বেশি করে, beef টা কম কম। .... আর তোর মাসিমাকে রান্না করতে বারণ করবি - সারাজীবন তো ওর রান্না খেলাম - এই কদিনের জন্য we must have something different...”

They emerged from the airport, pushing a trolley with two suitcases, hand in hand and with big smiles on their faces. Sandeep went forward to greet them. "এসেছিস ? বাপরে কী বড়ো airport !! কলকাতা তো কিছুই না। .." was the first comment from Mashima. "এটা Changi – one of the best airports in the world….” explained Sandeep.

They strolled over to the taxi queue. "দেখো, কী সুন্দর রাস্তাঘাট", said Meshomoshai as soon as they moved out on to the highway.

"বাড়ি গিয়ে আমি ভাতে ভাত বসিয়ে দেব। আলু আর ডিম আছে তো ?" asked Mashima.

"না কিছুই নেই, আর তুমি রান্না করতে পারবেনা।" 

"ও মা, সে কি কথা ? দেখ তো ? তোমাকে ডাক্তার বলেছে তেল-মশলা না খেতে, আমারও তাই, আর Shonu বলে কিনা রান্না করব না ?"

"ঠিকই তো বলেছে,"  responded Meshomoshai, "কয়েকদিন না হয় বাইরে খাব। তুমি একটু আরাম করো। চারিদিক কি সুন্দর, একটু দেখোনা। "

"দেখেছি দেখেছি .... তুই সত্যিই রান্না করতে দিবিনা ? বাইরে খেতে হবে ?"

Sandeep was gentle, but firm. "রান্না নাইবা করলে। বাইরে খেয়েই দেখোনা।" And then the debate started on the merits of home-cooked food vis-à-vis restaurant food. 

They reached home. Sandeep asked them to change and then he would take them out to lunch.

"বাঃ !! তোর বাড়িটা কি সুন্দর," exclaimed Mashima. 

“এটা তো standard জনতা ক্লাস ফ্লাট," explained Sandeep, "তাও কোম্পানির ভাড়া।" 

"তাতে কি হয়েছে ... খুব ভালো  ... এই TV তে ঐ Zee বাংলা program গুলো দেখা যাবে তো ?"

"না .. এখানে Zee আসেনা," said Sandeep.

"তুমি এতো দূর এসে বেড়াতে না গিয়ে ওই ছাই - ভস্ম সিরিয়েল দেখবে ?" exclaimed Meshomoshai.

"ওমা, আমি তো মাত্র দুটো serial দেখি, তাতেও তোমার আপত্তি ? ওই বৌটাকে ওরা মেরে ফেললো কিনা জানতে পারব না যে ?" Mashima was crestfallen.

"জানতে হবে না  ... change করে নাও।" said Meshomoshai.

"কি change করব - সব শাড়ি তো তুমি রেখে আসতে বললে ..." Sandeep could sense the gathering storm.

"তাতেও তো আটখানা শাড়ি এনেছ," Meshomoshai explained patiently.

"Shonu, চল খেতে যাই - আমি change করবনা।" Mashima was defiant.

"চলো আমরা Thai restaurant দিয়ে শুরু করি," said Sandeep.

“আমরা কিনতু খুব অল্প খাব, ডাক্তারের বারণ,"said Mashima. "এখন আর বেশি খেতে পারিনা," added Meshomoshai.

They ordered Tom Yam soup with chicken, steamed Garupa and rice, accompanied with a vegetable dish. And iced lemon tea.

"কি মাছ বললি ?" Mashima asked. 

“Garupa”, answered Sandeep, "এই অঞ্চলের খুব popular মাছ।" 

"সমুদ্রের ?  Steamed মানে কি ? ভাল করে ভাজবে তো ?"  Mashima was getting worried. "না হলে তো বাজে গন্ধ হবে !!"

"ভাজবেও না, গন্ধও থাকবে না," said Sandeep.

"ওরে বাবা রে, রক্ষে করো, জলে সেদ্ধ মাছ, কি সাংঘাতিক !! অন্য কিছু বল না ?" Mashima was aghast.

"আহা order যখন দিয়েছে, খেয়েই দেখনা," Meshomoshai tried to calm her, but his voice too, was distinctly uncomfortable.

The iced lemon tea was served. "এটা কি  রকম চা ?" now Meshomoshai was apprehensive. "খাও না।" Sandeep urged. They sipped gingerly… "বাঃ ! এত ভালো খেতে, " was a chorused response.

"কিনতু এত  বরফ", observed Mashima, "এতে গলা খারাপ হবে।" 

"হবে না গো, হবে না", assured Sandeep.

The Tom Yam soup came next. The lemon-grass flavour and hot chilli taste were captivating.

"বাঃ !! এতো মন্দ  নয় ..." was Mashima’s comment. Meshomoshai smiled.

Then the food arrived. The whole steamed fish lay on a bed of finely chopped parsley, carrot and other vegetables, with soya sauce. Both of them stared at it for a long time in apprehensive silence. 

"নাও, খেতে শুরু করো", urged Sandeep.

"ওরে বাবা রে ... সেই সেদ্ধ মাছ ... তুই তুলে দে", was Mashima’s instant response. 

"আমরা কিনতু খুব অল্প খাব, ডাক্তারের বারণ," said Meshomoshai. 

"Soup টা খেয়ে পেট ভরে গেছে", added Mashima.

They ate in silence. After about twenty minutes, Meshomoshai asked softly if more rice could be ordered. Mashima nodded in silent agreement. 

“Battle number one, won,” thought Sandeep.

#####

They went home and went to bed, although it was late in the afternoon. Sandeep started working on his office mails. At about seven in the evening, Meshomoshai woke up and walked across.

“Next plan কি ?”

"আমরা কাল একটা boat cruise এ  যাব … তারপর বাকি Singapore টা  ঘোরাবো”, replied Sandeep, “আর পরে dinner করতে যাব  …. Scotch খাবে ?”

The smile on Meshomoshai’s face was big. "ভাবছিলাম তুই কখন বলবি ..... "

Sandeep poured out two large pegs, got the ice and the water. "আমাকে জল বেশি দিস.... এই সব তো আর খাওয়া উচিৎ না...."  They toasted and had the first sip. “বাঃ !!,” – that was an almost natural reflexive response from Meshomoshai.

"এ কি ? এসব কি খাওয়া হচ্ছে ?" screamed Mashima, as she entered the room. "আমি ঠিক বুঝেছি তোমার মতলব, যেই তুমি চুপি চুপি ঘর থেকে বেরোলে..."

"থাকলই বা... তোমার দয়া তে তো বাড়িতে খেতে পারিনি, Shonu খাওয়াচ্ছে, তাই..."

"তা বলে বাচ্ছা ছেলের সঙ্গে বসে মদ খাবে ? হায় কপাল।..."
"হেঃ হেঃ, তোমাকেও খাওয়াবো, দেখো।..."

"বাবা, রক্ষে করো..."  was Mashima’s lament.

Sandeep had to change the subject, and fast. "তুমি তাড়াতাড়ি ready হওতো মাসিমা, এখানে সব দোকান বন্ধ হয়ে যাবে, খাবার পাবে না।"

"এবার কি খাওয়াবি ? দুপুরের খাওয়াটা বলতে নেই, ভালোই ছিল..."  said Mashima.  "আমরা কিনতু অল্প খাব  - ডাক্তারের বারণ", she continued. They finished their drinks and got up.

On the way to an Indonesian restaurant, Meshomoshai asked softly, "এই তুই যে বলেছিলি Singapore এ সব দোকান অনেক রাত্তির পর্য্যন্ত খোলা  থাকে ?"

"থাকেই তো, এখন চুপ করো।" Sandeep shut him up.

They ordered barbecued fish (Sea Bass), steamed rice, mixed vegetables, prawn with "শুঁটকি মাছ " or sambal as it is called, iced water and iced lemon tea….

"আমার গলা এবার নির্ঘাত খারাপ হবে", was Mashima’s observation.

"খাও, খাও, খুব ভাল রান্না", urged Meshomoshai. "একটু ভাত বলে দে তো...." he added.

The plates were cleaned up… and the happy trio went home.

###

The next morning, they left early by taxi for the cruise. Mashima was very apprehensive indeed. "এই নৌকো ব্যাপার তা বাদ দিলে হয়না ?"
"কেন ?"

"বলা যায়না, কি হবে.... আমার জলে ভীষণ ভয়।  সাঁতার জানিনা।"

"সাঁতার জানতে হবেনা", assured Sandeep, “ ওদের life jacket থাকে। ওটা পরলে এমনিই  ভাসবে।" 

"শাড়ি পরে জলে ভাসতে হবে ? ছিঃ ছিঃ ছিঃ...  বাবা রক্ষে করো... এই বিদেশ টিদেশ আমাদের পোষায় না...."

"তুমি যে সারা জীবন ঝগড়া করেছো তোমাকে নিয়ে যাইনি বলে ?" asked Meshomoshai.

"ওটা তো বিলেত ছিল, এটা তো আর বিলেত নয়..." lamented Mashima.

Sandeep had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "একি মাসিমা, তুমি raincoat আনোনি ? Boat এ ভিজে যাবে।..." 

Mashima was horrified. "আমি আর যাব না। আমার সিল্ক এর শাড়ি !!!" This was a crisis.

"আহা, boat এ ওঠা মানেই তো আর ভিজে যাওয়া বা জলে পড়ে যাওয়া নয়.... তারপর life jacket আছে..." explained Meshomoshai, "চলো তো, আমি থাকবো তোমার পাশে।" 

"তুমি ওই spondylitis  ওয়ালা ঘাড় নিয়ে কি করবে ? বাবা Shonu, সোনা আমার, কি হবে ?" Her brows were very wrinkled indeed.

They had reached the boat quay by then. "ওই দেখো নৌকাটা", said Sandeep.

"ও মা ওটাতো জাহাজ !!" exclaimed Mashima, "পাজি ছেলে, আমাকে ভয় দেখাচ্ছিলি ?" 

“ এটাকেই এরা boat বলে...” explained Sandeep with a smile.

They moved up the gangway. Mashima had to be escorted by one sailor on either side – she said the water below made her giddy..  Once aboard, they could barely conceal their pleasure and wonderment at the plush ambiance. 

"দেখো দেখো দেখো, কি সুন্দর, কি অপূর্ব", was Mashima’s constant and loud refrain. She was not talking with anyone in particular, rather, at both of them. Her voice still carried that delicate tinkle of a young girl’s, one that makes heads turn. Sandeep felt, perhaps a tad embarrassed at her ecstatic exclamations, but very happy that he could finally manage to do something for them after all these years. Meshomoshai’s face was simply radiant…..

Breakfast was onboard. Dim Sum, fried kuay teow, steamed noodles, salads, cold cuts, toasted bread, butter, eggs, sausages, baked beans, fruit, the works, laid out across three buffet tables..

"আমরা কিনতু খুব অল্প খাবো - ডাক্তারের বারণ", said Mashima. "এখন আর বেশি খেতে পারিনা", added Meshomoshai. Sandeep sat them down at a table and brought the food.

Mashima : “এটা কি ?”

Sandeep : Dim Sum. Typical Chinese breakfast item. খাও ? একটু chilli sauce নাও।"

Mashima : এ তো আমাদের সেই momo টাইপ এর জিনিস। তাই না ?"  She tried one, liked it, then, at their insistence, had two more.

“কেমন লাগলো ?” asked Meshomoshai.

“খুব ভালো।  কি ছিল ভেতরে  ?” she asked.

“Pork with sweet corn. Steamed,” said Sandeep.

Mashima : "ঈশ !! তুই আমাকে শুয়োর খাওয়ালি ? ছিঃ ছিঃ ছিঃছিঃ.....”

“খেতে তো ভালোই”, said Meshomoshai. He had finished four already, by then.

“না বাবা রক্ষে করো", lamented Mashima, “শুয়োর  ঈশ - আমার এবার অসুখ করবে", she continued.

"মনে করো তোমার পেটে বিষ্ণু অবতার বিরাজমান",  concluded Sandeep. And then he proceeded to serve them the other items on the menu…  He was sure that the “শুয়োর” episode had not finished – he would be hearing about it for the rest of his life.

“আমরা কিনতু বেশি খাবো না", announced Meshomoshai and then the two of them proceeded to have toasted bread, chicken sausages, Spanish omelettes, baked beans, lettuce with fish cold cuts, washed down with two cups of coffee each, not to mention the dim sums earlier.

The cruise was, as the Singaporeans called it, “a trip to nowhere”. It was basically designed to allow the tourists to lounge around the ship the whole day, while it made a tour of the surrounding islands and return to port at about eight in the evening, after dinner.

Lunch was without incident – they had chicken sandwiches – Mashima was adamant she would take only things that she had prior knowledge about.

At the dinner table one of the officers brought a bottle of white wine. It was complimentary, he said, for all the senior citizens on board. Meshomoshai was thrilled. Mashima was reluctant. The two men persuaded her to have a full glass. 

“এবার দেখিস আমি heel তোলা জুতো পরে পা মচকাবো", was her conclusion, just after the very first sip, “আমার এখনই মাথাটা কেমন কেমন করছে।"

On the way back to his flat from the port, Mashima had one final comment, “সবই খুব ভালো লাগলো, ওই শুয়োরটা ... কেমন জানি ...."

 And thus it continued for the next three days – Sandeep took them around the tourists spots in Singapore and to restaurants with different cuisines each time – Chinese, Malay, Japanese, Korean…  

Sandeep had ordered baby octopus in red sauce for starters at the Japanese restaurant. Mashima looked at the little three-inch things on the plate and said “আহা রে, এ তো একদম বাচ্ছা, এই সব আবার খায় নাকি ?" She watched in silence, a look of calm disgust on her face, as her husband gobbled two or three of them, then said, “তোমার দেব গন না হয়ে রাক্ষস গন হলে ভালো হতো।  আমি খেতে পারবনা।  Shonu, বাবা, এই সব খাওয়া থেকে আমাকে বাদ দে।" 

Meshomoshai had his taste of beef at the Korean joint, while Mashima and Sandeep had fish. Only after they had come home did he reveal what he had had.

"তুমি গরু খেয়েছো ? আমাকে ছোঁবে না।  আর আজ রাতে sofa তে কাটাবে", was Mashima’s instant verdict. 

And then she was not sure. 

"সত্যি বলছ ? ওরা যেন কি নাম  বলল ? শুনে তো গরু মনে হয়নি ?"

“Bulgogi”, suggested Sandeep, “Korean কথা  – ওটা beef.”

"ছিঃ ছিঃ ছিঃছিঃ  ....  বুড়ো বয়েসে তোমার মাথাটা একদম গেছে।  বসে বসে পাপ করছো !!"

"কেন ? মেশোমশাই তো বিলেতে গিয়েও প্রচুর beef খেয়েছে", said Sandeep.

"ওটা তো মিথ্যে কথা  ..." and then the truth dawned upon her, “হ্যাঁগো, সত্যি ?”

Meshomoshai said yes and then all conversation stopped.

"আমি কাল থেকে বাড়িতে রান্না করব", was Mashima’s final comment for that night.

The next morning she was dead serious. Sandeep and Meshomoshai spent the better part of an hour to convince her that they had less than a day before the return flight, and there were still some sights to see, some shopping to be done, and no time for cooking. She finally relented.

A day later, he was at the airport to see them off.

“দারুন লেগেছে, Shonu, দারুন লেগেছে - খালি ওই শুয়োর, গরু আর মদ তা বাদ দিলেই পারতিস", was her final comment. 

"নৌকোটা ?" was Sandeep’s mischievous query. “ওটা জাহাজ ছিল বললেই পারতিস ?" she retorted.

"না না, সব মিলিয়েই দারুন লেগেছে - শুয়োর, গরু আর মদ নিয়েই", reacted Meshomoshai.

"তুমি আর কথা বলো না - জানিস, এই পাঁচ দিন ও একটাও ওষুধ খায়নি ?"

"তুমিও তো খাওনি।"

"দরকার পড়েনি", said Mashima.

"ঠিক বলেছ", agreed Meshomoshai.

They kept waving till the opaque barrier before the immigration counter cut them off.

###

One thought struck Sandeep – this was the first, and possibly, the last visit for them. They knew it. And they enjoyed to the hilt.  They had mastered the art of living one day at a time. Perhaps that comes with age.

It was an experience of a lifetime.

###