Ali and My Mother

I was just transferred to that small district town. As a bachelor I found it was difficult for me to get a modest accommodation on rent. My colleges were all quite supportive, promised to find out one. But even after a month they too failed to find a hovel for their young boss. Their hesitation to disclose the reason for the failure of their sincere mission turned me bit curious. I asked Burrababu , calling him into my chamber considering this would offer required confidentiality. Frankly disclosing uncomfortable situation with my purse after meeting the hotel bills for a whole month; I pleaded staying in hotel for discharging my duties would finally land bankrupt! Mind you; salary in 70s with government job was not so lucrative. Burrababu understood my point; then submitted prudently that as a eligible bachelor I am not eligible for accommodation on rent from any good Samaritan. Just think my plight!


Getting married was a long drawn process as far as arranged marriages are concerned. The same is true even today. Thank God! Most of the parents are relieved by their smart wards of this arduous task these days. So; for getting a rental accommodation to keep my body and soul together with meager salary, my aged widow mother volunteered for my rescue. The lady was Victorian in nature. As in those days, a Brahmin , widow lady used to be strictly vegetarian and people surrounding her should adhere to her own set rules and regulations. I her only son , was just the right humble subject. Burrababu immediately found one two bedroom sprawling single storied accommodation for her with a local Brahmin family. They too were apparently delighted finding a lady tenant with her bachelor boy.

Well the days there after become easy. At least at the end of the week I did not have to worry about the hotel bills. It even less the half I had spend for running my household with mother than what I was paying to hotel wallas. In six months I developed a rapport with my colleagues. They are happy with their less experienced, almost stupid boss who believed in them and accepted their bare lies as truth! However, I felt amused watching one lying before me in most amateurish posture.
Amongst them Ali, was different. The man was sincere and hard working. He was the only Muslim in that office and I found him bit lonesome. At times I used to call him in my chamber just for a chat. Found the man was a ardent reader and updated with all the recent developments Bengali literature. Interesting; our friendship crossed the barrier of men-officer fencing. Ali use to invite me to his house for dinner time and again. He was newly married and staying in nearby locality. I just casually use to not his invitation , never to accept it really. Neither, I ever gave a serious consideration to them. Ali became insistent; just to divert the direction; I told him ' I am you boss why don't you come to my place with your wife for dinner'. Ali readily agreed.


How stupid I was I tried to gauge in that evening when I was heading to my house. At the time of inviting Ali, it did not crossed my mind how my mother would see it! An all white, Brahmin widow traditionally would not cook or serve one who is not from here community. It was something like tapped in one's own trap. I surrendered to my mother. By then she developed good relation with Burrababu's family. She assured me the day Ali comes, she would go to Burrababu's house and be back after Ali's departure. Think my embarrassment. But I had confidence in Ali, consoled myself Ali would understand.

The next Sunday; I was getting ready to receive Ali; I already talked to local Hoteliers, who promised to protect my dignity and assured the best non-vegetarian lunch they would deliver at my door. I was surprised watch my mother was not in hurry to leave for Burarbabu's house. I reminded her, Ali was expected at any moment. She revolted and retorted back ' you want me to be out and you enjoy their company alone!'. I was shocked to hear her comments! Ali turned up with his wife ; they both were bright and wore a very smiling face. Perhaps my embarrassing look did not escape their notice; aging to my utter dismay they appeared to be more amused for my embarrassment. Then to my horror; my mother turned up. Ali's wife bent her and touched her feet in cent percent traditional Hindu style. My mother embraced her closed to her body and dragged her to her own room!
Ali stayed for the whole day. His wife took her afternoon nap sleeping beside my mother right on her bed. In the evening when they were about to leave, my mother started weeping for her incapability to cook non-vegetarian dishes for her daughter. I was perplexed!