Santiniketan Memoirs by UV

 Sambit Sinha, uncle, this one’s for you… I am trying to pen my thoughts - an attempt I have not made in this decade… I hope I haven’t lost the capability to express it.

It was 18th December, the day we embarked on our trip to Santiniketan. Ushasi assured me for the umpteenth time that I would like it in Santiniketan and would be comfortable. I wasn’t worried, but she was probably apprehensive that I would miss some city facilities ie. shopping malls, multiplexes, etc. To me it was a countryside trip and I was looking for a much needed freedom which I missed in the restrictive Kolkata infrastructure. I was crippled in India as I couldn’t drive. The traffic and transport difficulties in Kolkata frustrated me to no end. I ended up being imprisoned in my own home. None of my close friends barring one lived in Kolkata anymore. Further I was on holiday, they were not, and had to attend their daily duties. I needed to break the shackles.

After a hurried lunch we made our way to the Howrah station through the busy Kolkata roads my thoughts being interrupted with the incessant jolts that we have come to identify Kolkata traffic with. After a few days in Kolkata this trip to Santiniketan brought with it a feeling of nostalgia of my childhood when every Christmas vacation brought with it a promise of a winter getaway from the busy city life.

 We arrive at the yet so familiar Howrah station standing with its enchanted glory. It hasn’t changed ever since I can remember, witnessing the changes the city has gone through over the ages. As the driver helped us unload the luggage we realize that one of the strollers’ handle refused to extract thus I am left pushing it along the platform like a toddler’s pram. We arrive at platform 12 only to realize a few phone calls later our train is sitting pretty at 10.

 We jostle our way back through the motley crowd with Ushasi grumbling away in the background as she is hit by ‘bonchkas’ and ‘tholis’. We finally arrive at the right platform and after almost walking half the length of the train we find our coach and the seats. With the luggage safely tucked away in the overhead rack we take a moment to bid goodbye to my mom with a promise of meeting soon in a week when they come down to Santiniketan for the Christmas party.

 The train is soon on its way and we spend our time analyzing our co-travelers most of who are students heading to Santiniketan for a Christmas and Poush mela outing. Ushasi spots one of her old Viswa Bharati professors but we keep our distance as this particular specie is well known to suffer from UBS, I mean Uncouth Behavioral Syndrome which apparently are stimulated in sight of ex-students and people not following the Rabindranath style guide. Me in an American Eagle cap and an Armani Exchange hoodie would definitely not evoke any pleasant feeling along with the Viswa Bharati ex sporting colored lenses.

 We overhear bits and pieces of the conversation as we bite into our snacks. The legendary ‘baul’ soon makes an appearance humming a folk song which I can’t make head or tail of, much to the amusement of Ushasi. She seems to recognize the song and has some funny memories associated with it.

 I was excited about this trip that had a prospect of playing cricket with Sarit, though sadly our team strength had been badly depleted with key players falling prey to different predicaments. Rahul probably had visa issues and was incommunicado, uncle had an operation partly due to my insistence but the biggest blow was Chirag missing the bus due to bunking a silly exam and then being ostracized by Kaki. I could hardly express my support for the poor soul as I was categorically told that he had committed a heinous crime and me being in line to become a parent sometime in the future should align myself to the parent camp and leave behind my ‘study hating student’ image.

 The train finally arrives at the Geetanjali station, no its still called Bolpur, Didi has so far failed in her renaming attempt! We see two anxious faces of uncle and auntie waiting to see if the US returned daughter and the SOL had made it in one piece. They were definitely relieved to see us and learn that we managed to keep the train journey uneventful much against our reputation.

 We take a short detour to Shanti Niloy. I could already feel the difference in the air, the pollution free sweet smell of the trees which I always associated with our family trips to Bihar or Orissa during my schooling days. As uncle explained about the various neighborhoods we were passing and their significance in history I tried hard to rack my brains to remember the roads from a year-old memory. I felt I remembered a few, some seemed familiar or was I confusing with some other place? I wasn’t so sure.

 Our arrival in Shanti Niloy triggered a bustle of activity which definitely disturbed the normally Shanto Niloy. I clearly remember the house and the structure and was relieved to see the open courtyard intact and surveyed the surrounding, planning where to hit the ever so juicy full toss with my new bat.

 After a hearty dinner and a few rounds of gossip later it was time to retire for the night in Dolon bari. We spend a few minutes exploring Dolon bari much of which matched my memory from last October except the new seating arrangement in the main bedroom. Though the glass walled sitting room was more appealing I had to settle with the main bedroom due to the lack of sleeping arrangement in the former.

 Ushasi was soon snoring away to glory (hope she doesn’t read this!) I too hovered for a while in the realm of dreamland and reality before slipping into a deep sleep. I woke up early and lay in bed listening to the birds busily chirping to make most of the short winter day. Ushasi was in no mood to wake up and after poking and prodding a bit I finally got the license to go to the main house for breakfast and coffee while she continued her morning sleep.

 Auntie was pleasantly surprised to see me up early and set my breakfast up along with my daily dose of caffeine. I spent most of my breakfast chatting and uncle soon joined the session. We were joined by Ushasi and after our breakfast we proceeded to the terrace to inspect the new lawn umbrella setup. The view of the open fields were both unfamiliar and enchanting. It was decided that I would accompany uncle to Talpukur housing estate as he had to supervise some maintenance tasks.

 Uncle and I took a shortcut through the field towards Talpukur, I loved this concept of the apartments overlooking the water body. We surveyed the property before ensuring the apartment that was being used to host my parents had the restrooms functioning which is where my dad loves to take refuge to escape my mom’s constant banter.

 We made our way back to the main house through the fields again, I noticed half of a skull of some unfortunate stray lying by the roadside. We did a brief inspection of the field only to figure out that it was way worse than the fifth day Nagpur pitch and that no play would be possible there.

 We had a cool welcome back drink (sherbet) and restarted our journey this time into the Viswa Bharati campus. I had visited Santiniketan a couple of times in my childhood but those memories were at best bleak. As we walked through the campus uncle pointed out the significant structures and the history behind each one. The vision of Kabi Guru came to life and each structure seemed to stand out as an astute witness to the progressive thinking of this great mind. The Kalobari, the Kala Bhavan and the Patha-Bhavan campus were a few among the many places we walked through. The warmth of the winter sun was pleasant and seemed to add to the festivities in the air. The students were finishing of their last few classes of the season in anticipation of the upcoming mela. Some of them gave us a weird look as we strolled along in shades and clicking pictures. We also walked past the hostels where a young Ushasi had spent a couple of days only to run away with tales of ragging and hardships that the students have to go thru.

 We were stopped at the Kaancher Mandir gates to uncle’s surprise and told that tourists were not allowed at this time. He wondered why after spending fifty odd years in the town has he been suddenly been categorized into a tourist. Little did he realize that his companion’s attire was to blame. He finally convinced the guard to allow us to walk through in order for us to reach home via the shortcut. We stopped midway in the University canteen to take a look at the revamping done and meet the new owner.

 After coming back uncle settled into his daily chores. I wandered about aimlessly for a bit only to realize that the wife was about to start her daily homemade beauty regime. I decided it was time I exercised my new found freedom and decided to embark on a discovery walking tour again much to the disapproval and dismay of Niludi who probably thought the Jamai is about to get lost.

 This time I went on a different route down by the Sinhas’ market and through the village down the winding road taking in the sights and sounds of the countryside. After quite a walk I reached the main road and realized I had reached the new scientific research bhavan which I remembered passing last night. I continued to walk forward stopping only to pick up a few mints and reached home completing a full circle just in time for lunch.

 The evening plan was to go shopping at Bhubandanga and the surrounding area. We stopped in a few shops and when we tried picking up a few gift items, we were quoted exorbitant prices meant for tourists. The lady was apologetic once she saw auntie and realized that we didn’t exactly belong to the tourist category. Auntie was pretty mad at the shop keeping lady for her audacity to quote such a price to her Jamai much to our amusement. We finally settled on a few items and made our way to Karukrit, where we picked up a panjabi for mama which he would have definitely not got had my wardrobe been not overflowing with red panjabis. I too couldn’t resist picking up a black one dreaming of flaunting it in some Indian function in SJ and imagining the envious looks that it would garner.

 We made one final stop at a roadside eatery in Ratanpalli, yes, I did finally manage to eat that roadside chicken roll much to Ushasi’s disapproval! A few strays hovered around hoping to get a bite but they finally had to settle for a healthier biscuit option as I wasn’t parting even with a tiny morsel of my delicacy.

 Once home uncle opened up the bar as we sat down for a relaxing session of tales from our day to day lives in the US and anecdotes. The session continued into dinner till we retired for the night.

 I woke up to a bright morning and after breakfast we proceeded to the terrace under the umbrella for a few glamour shots. I spent sometime in the Dolon bari terrace while Ushasi continued her daily regime. Ushasi promised to go out for a walk with me today. She wanted to show me the places where she spent her childhood and wished to relive memories of her school and college life. We would have to start early if we wanted to click photos as the light was fading pretty fast.

 As the evening fell Ushasi decided it was finally time for her to step outdoor and she took me for a walk down the university campus. We spent some time clicking the various landmark structures and bothering a few students to click a few of our photos. When I asked one student to click our photo he had a sudden loss of speech and started communicating with me in sign language, I never found out why. We however did get our job done.

 We continued our walk to reach the bank crossing and had a look at the lights of the ‘Teen-Pahar, near Ushasi’s nursery ‘Anandapathshala’. I wanted to continue walking down to Bhubandanga to experience the rustic environment and the people there much to Ushasi’s dismay. After a few steps she finally gave up and said she wasn’t up for it and we started to make our way back through the university campus. We met Niludi on our way back who seemed surprised to see ‘Mamoni’ walking, a sight she is not accustomed to.

We stopped again in the university canteen and had a cup of coffee. While the auntie there wasn’t looking I managed to enact how a typical Bengali college union dada would behave in the canteen much to Ushasi’s amusement. Finally, the sparrows, I mean the over sized mosquitoes started attacking us for invading their domain in way that we were forced to leave the canteen to make our way back to home into the safety of our savior, all-out.

It was Ushasi’s turn to act out our brief encounter with her old teacher Pabitrada and his malfunctioning tongue who we met on our way back.

 We set out for dinner in an eatery co-located with a movie theater and had sumptuous dinner with Bajirao Mastani playing in the background. Chhotochhi called up saying that she is ready and packed and that the bags were already out of the door. They would start early to ensure that they reach soon so that we can make most of the available time. Sarit though was very skeptical of the plans and couldn’t believe that the ladies could really meet the early start deadline. We had a brief photo session before retiring and Uncle was warned by Ushasi to look well awake in the photos as these would be posted on Facebook.

 The next morning, I woke a bit late to conserve my energy for the anticipated cricket session. When we reached for breakfast I learned Sarit’s apprehensions hadn’t come true and Chhotochhi and co are well on their way. We decided to spend the time sifting through the old family albums and old videos while we waited for the only remaining team member to arrive. They arrived in time for lunch with a ton of sweets and other goodies. Sarit was out on the ground as soon as lunch was over and I too soon joined him. After a good round of cricket where Moshai being the good Samaritan opted to just be a fielder on a pitch with extremely unpredictable bounce. The batsmen were frequently bowled as the ball kept low.

 Later we moved on to the kankor where Megha and Ushasi joined us for some badminton. Sarit towards the end of the session asked me wide-eyed – ‘how much energy do you have’? Little did he know that for people like us trapped in corporate offices chances like these are rare and far in-between. When we do get such opportunities we try to grab them with both hands and make most of it lest we regret later of having missed out.

 There was a function organized in Niloy to celebrate Niloy’s birthday which we planned to attend. I had brought my Indian attire for the function but judging Chhotochhi and Ushasi’s enthusiasm I had a feeling the function wasn’t going to be too enticing. However, Ushasi’s ‘Mishti Thapu’ had passed away in the morning and the plan was to have a prayer offered in her memory during the function. 

After the sports session I took a shower and dressed up in the Indian attire looking as Santiniketani as I could. Oh the blue lens though weren’t too Santiniketani. I joined uncle and my faithful companion Sarit leaving the ladies still applying their final touches as we made our way to the function. It was a session where a professor delivered a talk on Sri Aurobindo and Sufism, but 20 minutes into the talk he was still promoting Islam. Sarit and I started fidgeting looking for an escape route. We were desperately looking out of the window to catch a glimpse of familiar faces as an excuse to escape out into the open. There were a few in the audience who were audibly snoring and one of the culprits was the unforgettable Pabitrada. Oh finally we spot Auntie, Ushasi & Chhotochhi from the window. We didn’t waste any time in beating a hasty retreat leaving Uncle to enhance his understanding of Islam.

 Once out in the open Sarit & I decided it was time for a walk. We first took a stroll to the market complex in futile search of a coke shop. Unfortunately, none were to be found and we made our way back to the house for a sip there. With the function in Niloy showing no signs of getting over we decided to explore a bit further, this time we walked to the mela area to look at the preparations. The shops were at best half done and the jilipi stall owners were cooking some stuff for their own dinner. Disappointed with the progress we made our way back to Niloy just as the function was getting over. We joined everyone and slowly made our way back only to realize that Moshai and Megha had been locked in, which they used as an excuse for their inability to attend. I however had an uncanny feeling that had the door been open they still might not have made it.

 We decided to visit Nilanjana Mashi and Mimi Mashi while the others settled back. Nilanjana Mashi was very understanding and didn’t force us to eat sweets. We spent a bit of time listening to her tales of the peculiar characters that inhabit this small university town. Next stop was ‘Mimir Bari’ where Mimi Mashi lived. Though the exterior was unassuming the decor inside was a work of art I guess that’s why the saying goes not judge a book by its cover. Both ‘Mimidi’ and her husband were artists and the artistic taste was beautifully portrayed in the detailed decor of the house. She too regaled us with the difficulties of a family of artists for whom life events such as marriage are mundane events which are informed as matter-of-fact items by the artist son to the mother and the artist father has a very valid question of whether he has any role to play in the event.

 Moshai looked excited as the whiskey started to flow once we were back. The session soon warmed up with us all participating in acting out our most hated people and enacting their signature behavioral traits. Long live Pabitrada, because no session is complete without his caricature. Other teachers and childhood memories were shared. I tried sharing a few of my harmless stories in an effort to keep up my image of a not so naughty child. Everyone was tired and decided to retire, the next day’s plan was a family outing to watch ‘Dilwale’ followed by dinner.

 Early morning, I set off with Uncle to buy mutton from the local market. Ushasi would cook mutton the next day for the entire family to prove that stories of her culinary skills were indeed true. The local market was actually a concrete organized complex where the farmers displayed their produce for sale. It actually caught me by surprise as I had expected shacks by the roadside and not an organized complex. Our first stop was the mutton shop where we picked up the meat and I tried not watching the guy next to him who effortlessly took live chicken and cut off their heads coolly as if he was chopping cucumbers. Uncle’s next stop was the fish stall, I tried being brave and made my best effort to stand there but I could last only a minute before my whole system started revolting in the stench and I had to excuse myself and escape to the parking lot. Once the fishy business was done I accompanied him to the vegetable market where he picked ups lot of veggies. The final stop was the paneer shop. As we were about enter a customer coming out of the shop spit and it barely missed uncle trying to enter the shop. He got a glare from uncle but the guy’s expression was nonchalant as if spitting was the most natural thing to do in the world and it is the responsibility of others to get out of the way when he felt like doing it in public.

 Next morning after breakfast Sarit drags me aside and request me to go and ask uncle to arrange for us to borrow Ranjit’s bicycle. He believed probably if the SOL requested the FIL, chances of the adventure being rejected were slim. We soon set off to Talpukur to rob Ranjit of his bicycle and pedaled away through the winding lanes of Santiniketan. With the cool breeze on our faces and the warm sun on our back we felt liberated from the infrastructural restrictions. We did manage to come home in time for lunch, though with a sore bum from the bumpy roads and the hard seat. The new found freedom on wheels were addictive and we set out again after lunch exploring the by-lanes of the town, roads of which have started to look familiar to me now.

 As the evening set in we got ready to watch the ever-stammering superstar and the melanin operated milk-and-honey heroine on a much talked about action packed movie. With really almost no time to spare Uncle tried desperate measures to reach the theater in time. For once I was sitting back relaxed watching the father having to race against time, which I usually had to do for the rest of the year.

 We barely ran into the theater as the titles of the movie started playing. I spent rest of the movie being educated of what the ever-so-favorite heroine of many may have done to change from a dusky girl into the owner of an ever so pinkish flawless complexion. As Ushasi and I whispered among ourselves others were engrossed in the story Dilwale was trying hard to tell. To be honest I did like the few car stunts in the movie, but Mr Rohit Shetty you are damn lucky that you have the masses watching your movie because this definitely doesn’t have any class. The objective was anyway to do a family outing and that was well enjoyed where the movie and its contents were inconsequential. We trooped over to the SK eatery for our dinner. Ushasi needed to use the restroom and like all public restrooms in India this wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience. Sarit and I had to don the role of protector and cleaning inspector to finally certify a cube that could be used. Once the ordeal was over we came back to our table where all the ladies, well Megha still being counted as a girl, were on veg diet, it being a Hanuman-day.

 We were home soon and much to Sarit’s disgust I was offered a drink. He was petrified of the idea that I would fall asleep after my drink. His worst fears however didn’t come true. Sarit accompanied us to Dolon bari where we chatted and played ‘Drum Sharad’ late into the night.

 Next morning the house was bustling with activity and pandemonium had set it. The Bolpur station area had traffic restrictions. My parents were arriving and the car supposed to receive them couldn’t get through. Uncle was trying his best to work out something and was constantly in touch with my dad and the travel agent. I was on a holiday, I was chilled out, for once logistics wasn’t my headache, though I felt sorry for Uncle because I exactly knew what he was going through.

 Sarit and I set off on our now routine cycle trip while Ushasi got busy in cooking mutton. Ushasi had to live up to her reputation and this was her big test. With Niludi standing by her faithfully she embarked on her cooking spree. This morning we decide to take stock of the mela situation and rode to the mela ground. Today’s sight was much more heartening. 70% of the stalls were functional. Jilipi was already selling, I bought Sarit one and he seemed to like it. We slowly took a stroll of the mela ground with our cycles in tow. This was indeed good news. There was a function at Talpukur in the evening. The plan was to come to the mela after that. Sancharee was already here and I would meet her in person after ever so many virtual interactions. The Talpukur function was an annual event, though the contents of the function weren’t so appealing but the promise of Aniruddha Uncle’s open bar was ever so enticing.

 We reached home to find a relieved household that a car had finally been able to make it to the station and my parents arrived without any hassles. Mutton was ready and I had a first bite, it was tasty. Lunch was soon served and mutton well appreciated. Ushasi heaved a sigh of relief. My parents soon made their way to the Talpukur apartments for their afternoon siesta. 

As evening fell we got dressed for the event. Uncle left early to ensure all the arrangements were in place. At around 7.30 we were ready to go. However, we realized that there was only one driver, Moshai! I had long lost confidence of driving in crazy Indian traffic, though I can’t deny I felt a strong urge to do so. Sarit and I decided to walk to the venue leaving the girls to avail the car. We actually reached before the car arrived. Uncle met us at the gate and once the initial introductions were done I did not waste any time in making my way to Aniruddha Uncle’s flat. My dad had beaten me to it and was already onto his second drink. As I quickly poured myself one, I saw a very worried face watching me intently as to how the alcohol is affecting my energy levels, yes, Sarit of course! As I poured myself a second one he begged me to make it the last one for the evening. Ushasi & Megha soon joined us, though they didn’t participate in the drinking bout. Uncle ensured that the snacks were sent up to the room. Ushasi told me that one of the aunties had commented that I didn’t look quite like ‘Jamai-jamai’. Well in a leather jacket and torn jeans I dare say I could fit the Indian Jamai image that day, can’t blame her!  Oh well, to top it all I wasn’t even wearing my pom-pom cap. Now, I’m being a tad too sarcastic. We had dinner as soon as the buffet was ready. Uncle arranged a toto, basically a battery operated jumbo-sized auto to take us to the mela grounds. Sarit, Ushasi & I left for the mela to meet Sancharee and co. Our parents would wrap up the party and join us soon. We walked through the mela in search of Sancharee, attracting scandalized looks due to our western attire in poush-mela. We finally caught up with Sancharee, Soumya & Doyel hanging out with a couple of others. We had a good sit-down chat session in Banaful Caterers, where Doyel had dinner and they had lived up to their name and made it baneful for her.

Our parents with Chhotochhi, Moshai and Megha arrived and we had a quick family photo which I’m sure would be difficult to recreate soon. Sancharee and co were tired and left for home with plans of attending the early morning function at Chhatimtola. My parents with Uncle would attend that too. For me, my early morning sleep was more captivating.

Ushasi had an ardent wish to have jilipi and we walked to each corner but unfortunately none were to be found. We had to settle for coffee as that was the only thing available.

 Megha and Sarit would sleepover with us in Dolon bari today. We were to play 'Dram Sharad' however the girls wanted a few clicks and Sarit being a gentleman agreed to allow this event to precede the gaming session. But little did he know what he had done. The photo session didn’t get over till 3 AM in the morning and that’s when disaster struck. Sarit’s worst fears came true, I fell asleep! He was devastated! He thought of all possible punishment that should be meted out to the two elder sisters but none would still compensate his loss. He was crestfallen and even considered waking his mom up and going back to the main house. 

When I arrived for breakfast the next morning the mood was somber, Sarit was heartbroken. I was sad too and promised that tonight we would definitely make up for it. After breakfast, Sarit & I rode to the mela. Megha had already arrived there with Moshai to make best use of his early morning good mood and pick up stuff from the mela.

We met up with Megha and soon Moshai and Chhotochhi left as we three continued our expedition in the mela. Megha met up with her college friend for a quick hi. Sarit took a couple of round at shooting balloons while Megha and I tried the Banarasi paan. It was time to head back for lunch. Megha got on a rickshaw while we followed her on our cycles. By the time I reached home liquor was already flowing and a worried Sarit watched while I downed my glass with fervor. Memories of the night before were surely haunting him. He advised me to sleep it off in the afternoon and skip the evening drinks session. But then it was an evening cocktail party! He was very worried indeed!

I actually did sleep in the afternoon and was as good as new by the time the party started. I helped Sarit set up the bonfire. Moshai helped us in scouting for additional firewood. Soon the party was in full flow. The younger generation occupied the dining room which also was where the wine counter was! Alcohol always brings the best out of me, the best click of the trip with Megha happened then, and guess what, with a bottle of wine in my hand. We clicked quite a few amazing ones too with Ushasi, Megha and the parents, though there was one thing common, the glass in my hand! Sarit tried a shot of Kahlua and probably didn’t like it much and Chhotochhi was livid at Moshai for allowing that, who was cool as cucumber. The tandoori chicken was exceptionally good and by far the best I’ve had in a long time. We had dinner and I helped Sarit light up the bonfire. One more day to go, time was running too fast. My parents retired to their Talpukur apartment as we made our way back to Dolon bari. We had decided to skip mela tonight, this was the Drum Sharad night, we didn’t want another fiasco. Yes, we did play Dram Sharad and it was good fun. Aniruddha uncle’s rechristening of Sarit/Rambo would be immortalized through our session and so would Mangal Pandey. We finally slept at 3.30 with Sarit happy and peaceful.

25th morning brought mixed feelings, it was Christmas, but then it was the last day of the trip too. I was tasked to pick up the decorative masks and ‘Dokras’ from mela. Uncle and my parents were already there. Moshai, Chotochi & Megha had reached too. I with my favorite companion in tow reached without delay. After I picked up the advised stuff we made our way to legendary ‘Senjuti’. Megha, Sarit and I were the first ones to reach. Slowly everyone caught up and we ordered a round of fish fries and coffee. The older generation decided to head home after the session. Megha, Sarit and I decided to hang out a bit more to make most of our time. We even made a checklist of our to-do bucket list for the mela. Sarit had his rounds of balloon shots, paan it was for Megha and me. Ushasi had finished packing by the time we came back and were happy to see the items I picked up. We would go again in the evening for the final round. Chhotochhi had her wish list too. The plan was to have dinner there. Ushasi got dressed in a saree to do “antlami” at Senjuti as she termed it. As evening fell we all made our way to the mela one final time.

The mela ground was crawling with people and not everyone had noble intentions. A few just wanted to run their hands along some unsuspecting woman’s bum in the cover of the crowd. We the male members were thus encumbered with the task of safeguarding our women folk from the creeps on the prowl. Believe me Sarit was leading the charge! We visited a few handicraft stores and picked up some beautiful crafts to adorn our home back in the States. We then slowly made our way to Senjuti. Ushasi met with a couple of seniors while a few others scrutinized us from a distance. Our next stop was at the pithe shop and we had ‘bhapa pithe’ which were pretty nice. Aunty however said they were not well-done and other times they were even better. We were getting worried, having not much done from the checklist and we made a desperate attempt to go over to the jilipi stall and knock off at-least one item from our list.

The elders decided to head home while we would make most of what was left of the trip. Chhotochhi was still not done so Moshai didn’t have the liberty to go back. We split into two groups Chhotochhi and Moshai went by themselves while we ran off looking to a couple of gifts. After a few shops we finally arrived at the one where Ushasi had picked up some jewelry a couple of years back where Moshai had used his famed ‘ko poisa’ bargaining skills. I could imagine that the memory of that might have been so traumatizing to the shopkeeper that he had not forgotten the ordeal. One look at Ushasi and he says ‘aap pehle bhi aye the’ and that he was scared of how much bargaining it would lead to. We got our stuff custom made and it was time for the legendary fufaaji’s appearance. Oh what a performance! The guy would surely think twice before he set his stall up again in the mela. So much so as we were about to walk away with our bargain, little Sarit took pity and said give him another 50 bucks. I’m sure this guy will have Sarit’s number set of his fast dial whenever he comes to Santiniketan in future.

Chhotochhi picked up a small storage cabinet and it was time to head back home. Our to-do list wasn’t even half done. Moshai went ahead with Chhotochhi to get a toto while we followed at a leisurely pace. These were the last few hours and we didn’t want to let them slip. One last stop at the Banarasi paan shop was inevitable. The rides and ice-cream would have to wait for another time. This time the paan was big! We soon found the waiting toto and were on our way back to Shanti Niloy. Sarit and Megha would sleep with their parents tonight as we had an early train. Ushasi has a nausea problem on Indian roads hence we had to avail the train, others would drive. The trip had sadly come to an end but we had lovely memories to carry back. As we retired for the night with a bit of weight in our hearts I was at-least glad of having spent quality time with everyone. Chirag you were missed!