THE LEMP AND THE LEPERS
by
Anindya Basu
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
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.
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *