“What’s going on here?” – my wife said, her voice stern.
It was 2:30 AM. Sane people usually sleep at this hour!
By now (if you have been reading the MISHTI DOI series – https://arindamunplugged.wordpress.com/category/mishti-doi/), you would have figured out that I am a foodie!! I love food – “He eats anything that moves” – was a tagline some of my friends used. In addition to being a lover of new cuisines, I absolutely love the very own Bengali sweets – Roshogolla, Shondesh and Mishti Doi – waaah!! My favorites!!
The way back from office that Friday evening, I had stopped by at “K.C Das” sweet shop, and bought one large tumbler of Roshogollas & one tumbler of Mishti Doi. My uncle – a BONG to the core – was visiting us Saturday for lunch. In addition to the Bengali delicacies that my wife was to prepare – the dessert would include Roshogolla and Mishti Doi
I looked at the tumbler – there were 8 more left. Gluttonous, Greedy – those words came to me as I paused for a second, thinking if I should have more. Forget it!! I will diet from tomorrow, let’s enjoy now! – I consoled myself, and popped another Roshogulla into my mouth – my face swollen and MORE round (it’s already round without roshogollas!!) with so many roshogollas stuffed.
It was at this moment that I heard Anu, my wife, say from behind – “What’s going on here?” (Ki hoche ekhane – in bengali)
I had taken the required precautions – tip-toed my way out of the bedroom, closed the bed room door, lit the “dim” light – how the hell did I wake her???
My mind imagined a song playing in the background – (Parody from a once upon a time popular ad song)
Jab main chota bacccha tha, bahot shararat karta tha,
Meri chori pakdi jaaaati, mera kismat hai kharab..
Ab main shadi shuda hoon, gol matol aur petu hoon,
Aaaj BHI chori pakdi jaati, mera kismat hai kharab!!
I had no idea what Anu’s cue was – maybe it was the tell-tale thumping of my weight on the kitchen floor, maybe the slightest of sound that opening of the fridge door may have made. I will probably never know, but obviously I had emitted “husband doing mis-deeds” signals which had woken her up!!
I turned, as slowly as I could, and faced my wife… swollen mouth with 2.5 Roshogullas still inside, the “Ras” from the Roshogulla dripping down my cheeks.
She stood just outside the kitchen – hand on her hips – ready to unleash!! “What’s going on here?” along with “hands on hips” usually meant Demolition Day!
As I braced myself, my mind imagined a song playing in the background –
“Yeh kya hua, kyoon hua, kab hua, Tab hua, jab hua,
O chodo, yeh na poocho….”
Na Poocho (please don’t ask), what happened next. I am not equipped to adequately describe it – I visualized “Maa Durga” (a Bengali deity) out with 10 hands – each carrying a different weapon, about to unleash her wrath on the 21st century Mahisasura (the Gol matol Roshogulla stealing demon). The sentences hurled at me were embellished with – diet control, me being over-weight and my prior complaints about them, my immaturity and lousiness, and so on and so on….
I said nothing.
Noting her “Rudra”(angry) murti , I quickly kept the Roshogullas back in the fridge, avoided as much eye contact as possible and backed out of the kitchen with minimal movements, still struggling to gulp the three Roshogullas.