THE LEMP AND THE LEPERS
by
Anindya Basu
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Anindya Basu on Smashwords
The Lemp And The Lepers
Copyright © 2012 by Anindya Basu
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this translation may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free e-book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
* * * * *
Writer’s Note
This is a selection from my book ‘The Final War – Version 4.0’.
* * * * *
THE LEMP AND THE LEPERS
* * * * *
Pretty Painful Ponderings On Pets
Or
There Are Funnier Things On Earth, That Are Not Dreamt Of In Your Mind, Dear
(This discussion took place early in the second decade of the 21st century between Sumantro Sen and his father.)
Suhas Sen: Babai, it is a good thing you and your friend Vijay are confirmed bachelors. The balancing act between one’s wife and mother in Indian society requires the skills of a trapeze artist cum basketball dribbler besides the hide of a rhinoceros, at least during our times. It is true that the urban dwellers can cut the Gordian knot by sending their parents to old age homes or better moving out to new flats or houses, but don’t forget that the majority of Indians still dwell in villages. Of course, the mothers-in-law of today are not half as bad as those of yesteryears but in Indian society tradition holds supreme and mothers-in-law still keep on regarding daughters-in-law as outsiders who have come to take away their sons from them.
Sumantro: The feminists have always shrilly blamed the male dominated society for domestic violence but they are going to be surprised by the results of a recent study, which is still going on under one of my professors at Kolkata University. It has shown that incidences of domestic violence reduce by a staggering 80 % in households where there are no mothers-in-law.
Suhas: Babai, we must be careful to remember that the daughters-in-law of today are no angels either. Far from being the silently suffering types of yesterday, many present day daughters-in-law are breaking up and wrecking homes taking advantage of the law.
Sumantro: Who do you think is at fault? The mother-in-law or the daughter-in-law?
Suhas: It is a very difficult, vexing question. But, I would say up to the mid nineties of the last century, the mother’s pets were at fault, almost all of the time. Big grown-up men clung like little babies to their mother’s breasts. From the first decade of the present century things began looking up for wives with husbands becoming more caring and feeling.
Sumantro: In novels by famous writers of Bengal of the 20’th century, I have read about this age-old tri-cornered problem involving devoted mother’s pets, silently suffering daughters-in-law and dominant, aggressive mothers-in-law.
Suhas: Babai, let me tell you a real life story about a LEPER mother’s pet, albeit second hand. By the way, I think that this LEPER name Achintya (Suhas’s younger brother) invented for describing those people is so appropriate. (LEPER – Low-class East Pakistani Effeminate Refugee) Now, this LEPER from a large family had got married to a woman who was an original inhabitant of West Bengal. Her family was quite affluent. She was an industrious, hardworking woman. She did more than her fair share of work in the large joint family, which the LEMP pretended not to notice. LEMP, short for LEPER Mother’s Pet, not bad, eh? Whatever be, whenever this LEMP found her earning a well-deserved rest, he shouted at her, ‘Looking like the woman in the painting, while mother is slaving off in the kitchen. Go and help her.’ Incidentally, the family did have a cook, and the LEMP’s mother, contrary to what he concocted, spent most her time in idle, bitchy gossip with the eldest son’s wife. Once, when his wife was arranging her sarees, most of which were wedding gifts from her parents, aunts, uncles, friends, he chanced on her. ‘You have such a lot of sarees. Why don’t you give some to my poor mother, who has nothing to wear.’ He had grabbed 4 of the best, without displaying the least bit of shame and dutifully deposited those to his mother. His mother, who did not wear such colourful sarees, in due time had smuggled out the sarees to her two sons, living separately, intended for their wives. Once, the daughter-in-law, in pangs of hunger, had pleaded, ‘Mother, would you give me a few slices of mango. I have eaten nothing from the morning.’ Mother-in-law had brushed her off, ‘Wait, wait, first let me give to my two younger unmarried sons. The waiting time turned out to be infinite. The daughter in-law continued to suffer silently at the hands of the mother’s pet and his mother. A few years after their marriage, the couple had gone off to an industrial town, where the LEMP had got a better-paying job. After the couple’s first child, a daughter, had been born, the LEMP’s mother had come to the company flat on the pretext of helping her daughter-in-law bring up her baby. She had really, really helped. Helped by pinching off little, expensive items from her dear daughter-in-law’s wardrobe. Helped by washing her granddaughter’s soiled nappies so beautifully that they smelled more of shit and piss after the washing than before. Helped her daughter-in-law lose weight by stealthily drinking off her nutritional drink. Helped by pinching small utensils from the kitchen and hiding them in a sackcloth, well her daughter-in-law would have lesser utensils to wash, wouldn’t she? Most helped by sipping off half off her 1-year-old granddaughter’s daily quota of cow milk, well her granddaughter would grow up to be a slim, beautiful girl instead of a fat, ugly one, wouldn’t she? All the time, the LEMP kept on gushing in a mushy tone, ‘My mother, she is a Debi (Goddess).’ Oh, what a Debi! Imagine the Debi being worshipped in a pandal, complete with the priest, devotees, onlookers. Well, when a devotee would go and offer a pranam, she would pinch the moneybag from the devotee’s pocket. She would pinch the lozenges from a little devotee’s trouser pocket. She would pinch all the small coin offerings from the big thala. She would pinch the packets of sweets from the priest’s bag. She would pinch the special bhog meant for the devotees and gobble it up. When the devotees would see their offerings of apples, bananas, grapes, disappearing in the Debi’s mouth, they would shout and dance with joy. ‘Debi has come to life.’ The woman devotees would throw themselves at Debi’s feet. Debi would then pinch one devotee’s earrings, another devotee’s gold necklace, and so on. The women would go wild with joy. ‘Oh, Debi has taken our offerings, even if not offered.’ Well, we forgot to have a name for the Debi. Why not Taskarini Debi? Taskarini in Sanskrit meaning a female thief. Well, the Debi’s games had not ended yet. Any grown-up person, at least a woman, would know, little infants have this wonderfully irritating habit of waking up their parents in the deepest of slumbers with heart-rending wails. Grandma Debi had taken pity. No, not her daughter-in-law, who had to cuddle and cajole and coo the infant back to sleep again. Not even the infant. Her poor son. Woken up by that irritating infant. No, he had never once offered to help his wife. Neither had his Debi Ma. But her poor, dear son was the worst sufferer, wasn’t he? She had neither shame nor scruples in telling, ‘My son, your daughter irritates you too much. Doesn’t let you have a wink of sleep. From today, you are going to sleep alongside me.’ And the obedient, devoted LEMP, in keeping with the great, eternal Indian tradition, had complied. For, was she not his Debi Ma? One wonders whether the LEMP suckled his mother’s breasts at night and whether Debi Ma, in the morning, oiled and bathed and dried the eternally devoted son. Well, I could have kept on and on, but I’ll have to stop here, otherwise we’ll have to stay here the whole night. And you know son, the doctor’s order, I have to go to bed before 10.
Sumantro had been laughing silently all the while.
Sumantro: I myself couldn’t have got a better story to prove my point. What a sad, sorry state of affairs. Mother’s pets like these help to scar the image of all men. It’s spineless eunuchs like these who have helped the fake feminists grow in strength.
* * * * *
LEPER The Great
(This is a sequel to the discussion ‘Pretty Painful Ponderings On Pets’ between Sumantro Sen and his father.)
Suhas: Babai, remember the LEMP, whose story I was telling you some time ago?
Sumantro: Oh Baba, how can one forget that LEMP and his petty mother.
Suhas: Let me tell you some more funny things about the LEMP. Mind you, these were not at all funny for the dutiful, devoted, caring wife. Also, sometimes he acted like a LEMP; sometimes he acted like a plain LEPER. Now, the incidents are as follows. His younger brother K was angry and had not had his breakfast. Because the devoted wife’s observant eyes had prevented him from stealing money from his elder brother’s trouser pockets, money which he used for watching matinee shows and gobbling down chops and cutlets, he an unemployed youth, instead of looking for a job. Mr. LEPER had enquired of the servant cum cook S, ‘Hasn’t K had his breakfast? No? Then I too will not have my breakfast.’ Before stomping out of his house, he had filthily abused the devoted wife for misbehaving with his poor, dear brother. Once Mr. LEMP’s actress mother had deliberately not had her lunch on time. The devoted wife, after requesting the actress mother many times had got fed up and had had her lunch. Mr. LEMP, on reaching home, had learnt that his poor mother had not had her lunch so that she could sit her equally poor son on her lap and both of them could eat together. On knowing that his wife had already finished her lunch, leaving his poor, dear mother in the lurch, an angry Mr. LEMP had accused his wife of being the worst daughter-in-law in the whole joint family. Once, when Mr. LEPER had returned from a 3-day official trip, the devoted wife had reminded him that he had forgotten to buy sufficient amount of fish before leaving, as a result of which she and the young children had to be content without any fish for the last two days. The great Mr. LEPER had remarked casually, ‘When you become a widow, you won’t be able to eat fish or any non-vegetarian item. So, why not start practising from now?’ Mr. LEPER didn’t care a hoot whether his wife or children had any fish curry for lunch, but when it came to the servants, he was dripping with the milk of human kindness. A particular servant had come from an impoverished village, where the people normally had only salt to eat with their meal of rice. Whenever the devoted wife gave her, her midday meal, with rice stacked in the middle of the plate and surrounded by vegetables, pulse and fish curry, those seemed like heavenly manna to her. She used to gobble up all the vegetables, pulse and fish in a hurry and then eat the rice at leisure. Once, Mr. LEPER had chanced upon her during her second part of the meal. He had cried out in anguish, ‘Hasn’t given you any fish to eat with your rice?’ Whenever one of Mr. LEPER’s countless relatives died of old age or sickness, he used to turn on the devoted wife. ‘You are responsible for his death.’ The devoted wife would be too dumbstruck to say anything in reply. Mr. LEPER was a master in fibbing. Whenever he got the opportunity, he lamented to anyone he could get his hands on, ‘I had a very deprived childhood. My parents sent me to my aunt’s house, where I was treated like a menial and made to do all the household chores. While my nephews feasted on loochi and aloo’r dawm (spicy potato curry), I had to do with dry chapatis and gur (jaggery).’ Mr. LEPER adopted the ‘divide and rule’ policy in trying to maintain his dominance over his family. For this, he stooped to an unbelievably low level. He continuously poured poison in his two daughters’ ears – ‘Your mother loves your brother much more than you, he is the apple of her eyes.’ It was a monstrous lie, as the devoted wife did no such thing. In her eyes, all her children were the same and she granted no special favours to her son, unlike many an Indian mother, who gave preference to her son over her daughter. To compound his crime, Mr. LEPER, who for some strange reason could not tolerate his son, always belittled him before his relatives and friends. Mr. LEPER showered all his affections on his two daughters. In what must be the only case in the Indian social milieu, he sent his son to study in a dilapidated school run by the local municipal corporation, while he arranged for his two daughters’ schooling at posh convent schools. But, this is nothing compared to what Mr. LEPER had done in the years before his marriage. Mr. LEPER loved his eldest brother and sister-in-law very much. So much so that he used to brag, ‘My BawrDa is a Debta (God). My BawroBoudi, she loves me so much.’ Now, why did he brag so? Because, he had unlimited access, uninhibited entrance to the couple’s bedroom anytime he liked, even when the BawrDa was not at home. By the way, the pleasure could be doubled sometimes. The couple had a fat, cuddly girl N. So, Mr. LEPER could have it both BawroBoudi and N, for whom he had a special affectionate name. Now, that was the reason why at the beginning of every month, he dutifully handed over all of his fat salary to his BawrDa. The reason why Mr. LEPER constantly called his mother a Debi, should by now have become clear to you. Yes, his mother was a Debi because she allowed her son to have sex with her. So, Mr. LEPER had sex with his niece, his eldest brother’s wife, his mother. Just imagine. Not for nothing did dear Mr. William say through Hamlet – There are far stranger things on Heaven or Earth than are ever dreamt of in your philosophy.
Sumantro: I can’t even imagine. The name LEPER, AchintyaKaku coined for those people, seems to be so appropriate. I have heard from many sources that having incestuous relationships was the prevalent practice in many families of East Pakistan.
Suhas: You are right, Babai. And that was why Hindu refugees from East Pakistan used to boast of their cultural superiority over the people of West Bengal. As a famous Bengali proverb goes – to hide the signs of eating fish by covering with spinach leaves.
* * * * *
The LEPERs: Rashtradharpur Government Colony
Srikrishnapur was a small town 22 Km. by train from Howrah station. Sumantro’s only uncle Achintya Sen’s college batch mate Ajanta Auddy’s father, a central government officer, owned a large two storied house near the Rashtradharpur Government Colony, a 15-minute walk from the rail station. Rashtradharpur Government Colony was inhabited by people who were derisively called LEPERs by Achintya, LEPER standing for – Low-class East Pakistani Effeminate Refugee. The reason for Achintya’s revulsion was that these low-class Hindu refugees had totally wrecked and debased the gentle, civil culture of Bengal after they had come over from East Pakistan, kicked out by East Pakistani Muslims.
Achintya and Ajanta were the two toppers in their class, but instead of making them rivals, this had turned them into close friends. Ajanta had invited Achintya for lunch on a Sunday. Which was mixing pleasure with business. Business being assisting each other with preparations for the impending first year exams. Ajanta was quite elated when she saw Achintya at their door. Achintya, who lived with his parents in a concrete jungle i.e. a typical upper-middle-class flat in a monolithic apartment in a congested locality, with the sunlight and greenery banished from sight, gushed at his friend’s spacious two storied house surrounded by greenery. Ajanta warned him, “You know, even roses have thorns. And in this case, we have got more than our fair share of thorns.” Achintya looked quizzingly, but Ajanta refused to divulge anything more.
And the two got busy in serious business. And got up only after Ajanta’s parents forced their books shut. After a sumptuous meal in which Ajanta’s doting parents doted on Achintya for a change and forced him to stuff himself like an overcrowded train compartment, the duo got back to business as usual. After a few hours, Ajanta’s parents asked her to take Achintya for a stroll on the rooftop, before they were to have evening tea. Ajanta agreed, but only for 20 minutes.
On the rooftop, she explained to Achintya, “The stupid, narrow minded people we have as neighbours may think something and pester my parents.”
“You mean they may think we are lovers.”
A giggling Ajanta nodded. “They are still mired in the nineteenth century.”
Sumantro, after strolling about the front portion of the rooftop, started going towards the back portion, when Ajanta caught hold of his hand, and asked him not to go towards the back.
“Why? Do you have treasures hidden in your backyard?”
“Er, there is something there I don’t want you to see.”
“Ha ha. If you don’t want me to see your hidden treasure, then do not.”
“Look, it is not our treasure or something like that. Fact is…”
Achintya was surprised at Ajanta’s strange coyness. A visibly reddened, flustered Ajanta blurted it out, “Fact is, if you go there, you will see girls roaming about naked.”
Achintya fell over laughing. “Ajanta, you are studying too much. You must take some rest otherwise such hallucinations will keep on occurring.”
“Oh well Achintya, you don’t believe. You think I am fibbing. All right.”
Ajanta walked firmly to the back of the roof. And stood there for quite some time. Then she spoke out, “Here she comes.”
She went up to Achintya and determinedly grabbing his hand, almost dragged him there. Achintya saw in the neighbouring house’s garden, a petite girl of about 16, with a bucket of water in one hand and a towel in another hand, walking towards a small detached room with a single door located near the boundary wall. With her back to them, the girl hung the towel on the clothesline running from the wall to the room, pulled off her frock and hung it on the clothesline, pulled off her bra and hung it on the clothesline, pulled off her panty and hung it on the clothesline. Then the completely naked girl, unaware of the neighbouring house observers above, turned around and facing them, walked up with the bucket of water in hand to the small room, and opening the door, went in and closed the door shut.
“Now do you believe me?” asked Ajanta after the two of them moved away.
Achintya, who still could not believe his eyes, asked, “Can you just tell me what’s the matter?”
“Well, you must have got it surely that that small room is a toilet. Now you would like to know why do not they have a toilet in their house. Yes, they do have. But they, especially the girls cannot use the toilet out of fear of peeping Toms from their neighbour’s house’s rooftop. Those shameless peeping Toms have contrived a long periscope sort of thing which they can fit on to a hole in the ventilator, and whenever they see through the open toilet window, a girl entering the toilet and shutting the window, they insert one end of their periscope inside the loose tiles covering the toilet to see the girl undress and…”
“But why don’t the girls’ parents go to that house and inform the house-owner of the rascals’ transgressions? Or better, inform the local guardians of the locality?”
“Well, it is not only the boys living in that house, but almost all the boys in the colony are peeping Toms. In fact, quite often they gang up at a friend’s house to indulge in their peep shows. I have heard that some of them are so shameless that they do not hesitate to peep through holes in toilet doors in their own houses when their own sisters and mothers are inside the toilets. In addition to being peeping Toms, they are also marauding thugs, who care two hoots for their elderly parents. If their parents try to chastise them they would only get filthily abused in return. As for the guardians of the locality, they would be the last persons to protest. After all, they need those boys for their party’s dirty tasks. Yes, the guardians of the locality are members of the communist party and they have drafted those peeping Toms cum marauding thugs into the communist party. And you know that in West Bengal, no one dare speak out against members of the communist party, whatever misdeeds they perform. In the past, some persons had spoken out against those communist thugs. And do you know what had happened to them? They have had their windows in their houses shattered at midnight by brickbats. They have had plants uprooted and stolen from their gardens. They have had rubbish thrown inside their homes. They have had vile, filthy abuses hurled, heaped on them. And worst of all, they have had excreta thrown at their front gates and doors. In fact, being peeping Toms is probably the least of the offences of these communist thugs. They are at their worst when they carry out this Kali Puja of theirs. Playing obscene Hindi songs at the maximum possible volume all through the night. Getting drunk and loitering naked through the streets at night. Climbing up on walls and peeing inside people’s gardens. Raiding the shanties by the rail station to pick up girls with whom they can spend the night. There is no end to their misdeeds. But don’t think the women are all innocent. There are some really shameless sluts who, whenever their husbands are away on business, deck themselves up and indulge in dirty activities with other men in secluded spots.”
Achintya had been stunned at Ajanta’s vivid description of the total moral decay under communist rule.
On his way back, in his car, returning from Achintya — who was still grieving Ajanta and her husband’s death in a Kashmiri Muslim terrorist attack in Haridwar — Sumantro was thinking to himself, “The LEPERs like to have lots of green chillies and red chilli powder with and in their dishes. Their spineless capitulation before Muslim fundamentalists calls for those green chillies to be stuffed down their ass-holes and red chilli powder to be rubbed over their genitals. The LEPERs are extremely fond of fish. Instead of chewing up the bones of the fish they could transplant those as backbones in their bodies. They could also do with infusions of the red blood of the fish in their arteries and veins.”
* * * * *
Connect with Me Online:
My blog: http://rinbasublog.blogspot.com/
E-mail: anindyabasu38@rediffmail.com