The girl named Neelu

 

Swapan did not realize that Ghugni and Alurdam would put him in such danger. Charankaka had been selling juice next to his rice, dal and vegetable hotel for so long. During the summer, there would be a queue at the shop. Musambi juice in a small plastic glass cost fifteen taka. The food shops near the hospital were doing great. The longer the ticket queue inside the hospital, the more crowded the food shops. Sometimes the food shops were more crowded than the drugstores. The oily, wobbly benches were full until evening. Except for the medicine, cheap nighties, children's clothes, tiffin boxes, plastic bottles, fruit shops, all the other food shops were sold here. Muri, gram, nuts, rice, vegetables, kachori, potato curry, petai, paratha, semolina, everything was sold here, as well. There was a Kali temple on one side of the hospital. Most of the shopkeepers were Bengali or non-Bengali Hindus. There were also Muslim shops. At the end of this alley, if you turn around and enter another street, you will see a row of food stalls. The vendors are Muslims. The sidewalk stalls on that street sell biryani, kebab, puri, thickly sliced ​​potato fries, and jillipi. Since the smell of kebab or biryani cannot reach the hospital after turning around the alley, the relatives of the patient cannot find these hotels. Moreover, no one wants to eat biryani and kebab after leaving their loved ones lying in the hospital bed! So, people who come to see the doctor or the patient sneak into Swapan's rice hotel opposite the hospital gate. Swapan looks after the customers and Swapan's mother handles the cooking.

His mother has more business sense than Swapan. And unlike the five cheap hotel owners, she does not make the same red broth and serve it with eggs or fish in the same broth as the customers demand. She makes the fish broth separately. In it, cumin, coriander, chili and ginger paste are added. The egg broth is mixed with onion, ginger, garlic, Kashmiri chili paste and garam masala powder to make it so delicious that it becomes difficult to control the craving. Chicken is cooked with papaya and potatoes. Swapan's mother sighs, "You will get hot rice...eat hot rice with light broth of papaya chicken.....cooking with light spices just like at home.....you won't find it anywhere else."

There is something in the call that many people follow that call and look around the shop. Instead of entering the Bhola hotel, people enter Swapan's hotel in the greed of home-made food and their eyes are caught by the red and shiny eggs and they eat papaya chicken, dimkasha... both. After the evening, the mother and son sit down to calculate with a smile. At night, after packing everything in the van, the mother and son return home happily. Home is nearby. In the chat garden. Which has now become a bone garden in the eyes of the people. Swapan thinks that opening a food shop near the hospital has a different advantage than any other footpath. It is very crowded from Monday to Saturday. Almost every day there are new customers. New stories. There are no stories of debt. However, there are a couple of people who have to come to the hospital for treatment every week...they become familiar faces. Swapan's mother makes potato, eggplant and kalmishak fried for them. These are squatter shops. When the party is in power, the party boys have to pay a certain amount of money every week. And if there is a special party program, it is mandatory to pay the subscription. But the party boys are good. They are the ones who have arranged meters in all the shops here. Meters in the shopkeepers' own names. All the meters are installed in a single meter house. If you pull the wire from your meter to the shop, you get a fan and a light. Great arrangement. What could be more comfortable on the footpath than this! There is a time clock at the end of the alley and a tube well at the end of the alley. Plenty of water. There is no problem with cooking or washing dishes. The tube well water is filled in colorful plastic jugs for customers. There is salt in a small container next to it.

Apart from occupying the shop space, Swapan's father did not do any good to their family. Even after opening a paan bidi shop, it did not work out that way. Their fortunes changed as soon as Swapan's mother took charge of the family. The idea of ​​opening a rice hotel and its implementation... all belong to Swapan's mother. For this, he is grateful to his mother. Today, two well-kept rooms, a bathroom, and comfort are the result of all the mother's intelligence and hard work. They were living very happily. Neelu came as a thorn in that happiness. Charankaka rented out the juice shop next to his hotel. There is no conflict between rice and curry and fruit juice. Many people would eat fish and rice from his shop and buy musambi or ripe mango juice from Charankaka's shop and eat comfortably and go to catch the bus with a sigh. But since the day the girl named Neelu rented Charankaka's shop, there has been a conflict between rice, fish, papaya chicken and ghugni and alurdam. Swapan had repeatedly told Charankaka about renting the shop! Uncle didn't listen to him. If only they could connect the two shops together and put some plastic tables and chairs, the shop would become a restaurant. Swapan really wanted to open a restaurant. Swapan's dream could have come true if Charankaka wanted it. Swapna Cabin... he had even thought of a name in his mind.

When business started to slow down during the lockdown, Charankaka became ill with worry. Even after life returned to normal, uncle's health did not improve. Uncle's house is on the other side of Boubazar. Who knows how the girl got in touch with Charankaka!

The girl comes from the Tangra side. A road goes through Anandapalit to the other side of Tangra. The girl travels on that road in a rickshaw. The girl is nothing special to look at. But her eyes are very deep. She speaks more with her eyes than her mouth. Her age cannot be guessed. There is no vermilion on her wrist. Two colorful bangles in her hand. She comes wearing salwar kameez, jeans kurti and all that. Her right leg seems bad. She walks with a limp. A seven or eight year old girl comes with her. The child also does a lot of work. The girl's sister could be a ton!

She makes ghugni and alu dum from home in two big pots. When she comes to the shop, she just puts them on the stove with a pump and sprinkles various powdered spices on top. Who knows what spices! As soon as the spices are poured, the strange and beautiful aroma of ghugni and alu dum spreads all around. Under that heavenly aroma, the scent of egg fried rice or papaya chicken cooked by Swapan's mother's skilled hands is buried. People do not even enter Swapan's hotel. They go to Neelu and order bread, alu dum or ghugni. No one in the shopkeepers around eats rice at noon anymore. Standing in front of Neelu's shop, he eats potato bread on a steel plate. The crowd in front of Neelu's shop never seems to end!

Nowadays, Swapan's mother always scolds her son. She says, "Why won't customers come if you don't shout a little louder? You have to stand in front of the hospital gate and catch customers by trickery. You haven't learned anything! Even your father was not like that."

Swapan doesn't answer his mother's words. He has never been so stupid before. He can't understand why people have started eating Ghugni bread instead of rice in the afternoon! People don't get gas by eating bread in the evening! Swapan has not spoken to Neelu even once. However, Swapan's mother throws various jabs at her daughter. There is no reaction from the daughter. She doesn't even have time to sit down. She bakes bread on the tarjali all day. Chops coriander leaves, onions, and green chillies. Talks to the child.

Swapan memorizes the girl's diary. In the morning, he comes to the shop and puts the pots. He takes out the plates from the locked wooden box and arranges them. When the bread seller gives him the bread, he puts them on a wooden shelf. He digs and digs for water in buckets. Finally, he brings a garland of flowers from the flower shop next to the temple and hangs it on the picture of Kali Thakur. He lights the incense stick and mutters something, then kisses the child on the girl's forehead. At that moment, people gather in front of his shop before buying tickets for the hospital.

Swapan's mother says, "Even if you make love to the girl, you can do it! Your face is not bad. Even if you have a defect in your feet, you can do all the work! If you get married, the shop will be yours. How long will I live? If you both manage the business, you will not find a place to keep your money."

Swapan sits silently. If you answer her mother's words, a fight is inevitable. Mother is very good at fighting. She does not want to be humiliated in front of a girl named Neelu again.

She has to answer her mother! The girl has a good reputation. Otherwise, in just a few days, she will win everyone's hearts by eating Ghugni Aloo Dam! If you cook well, people will come to her own senses. Any healthy person eats chicken with papaya! You can cook better yourself without making me follow the girl!.. Swapan cannot tell her mother these words for fear of being shouted at. He swallows them.

What never happened, is happening now. Papaya chicken and fish curry are surviving. Swapan understands that his mother is no longer interested in cooking. Sitting in a corner of the bench, he glances at the girl named Neelu. He curses and curses in a voice that is not clear. Swapan feels very bad. If anyone is to be blamed, it is Charan's uncle's fault. He would have taken the shop for a fair rent! Why didn't he give it to him? Swapan has been feeding him rice, vegetables and lentils for many days in the afternoon. He didn't take any money. In the scorching heat, his uncle gave him and his mother mango sorbet and raw honey to cool off. How could that uncle give the shop to a naughty girl instead of giving it to them! How could uncle do that! Swapan hadn't seen uncle for a long time. He didn't even come to collect the rent. If he had come, Swapan would have seen it right away.

For the past two or three days, Swapan has been staring at Neelu's shop like his mother. How familiar faces have become strangers and are licking the remaining liquid of the ghugni off the plate.... And he is shamelessly oohing and aahing at the greatness of the taste. What does the scent of the ghugni sprinkled with special and secret powdered spices do to Swapan! He is in a daze. What line will he give to eat the ghugni and potato dumplings in Neelu's hands! Meanwhile, the customer is getting annoyed by another handful of dal. "Dhus! The shopkeeper is unconscious. I will eat potato dumplings from tomorrow." When Swapan's sambit returns, the customer has finished eating. The customer leaves, pouring out a lot of annoyance on his shop. He goes in front of Neelu's shop and starts walking around glancing at the prices of the food painted on the wall.

Now Swapan's mother is in a crazy state. Swapan knows that his mother went to Bhairavidi. Bhairavi knows the tricks. She practices various rituals with burnt cloves, maduli, and pieces of cloth. She brought mantra-infused water from Bhairavidi in a small bottle and sprinkled it on the girl's shop early that morning. Her mother, with a frown on her face, said, "Look, from now on, all people will come to our shop. The girl will die vomiting blood." Swapan was shocked. The girl earns her income by working hard. If anyone has done wrong, it is Charan's uncle. Despite telling her many times, the shop did not pay Charan rent. Moreover, the girl starts her business by devoutly garlanding Makali's picture every day, why should she die vomiting blood? Makali has more power than Bhairavidi! Makali has more power. Because the crowd at the shop of the girl named Neelu did not decrease, in fact, the nurses from the hospital also started lining up in front of the shop to eat ghugni and alurdam. Some of them took out their tiffin boxes from their bags and filled them with ghugni and alurdam and started taking them home. The girl did not vomit blood. Instead, a small red spot adorned Neelu's forehead.

That day, Swapan went to the market. He went to give the chicken vendor whatever he got. As soon as he returned from the market and went to the shop, his mother pointed at him and started saying something! Something must have happened! Seeing his mother smiling in a strange way, Swapan's chest heaved. It was as if his mother had regained her mental strength. Her voice was also much stronger.

Pointing her finger at the girl's shop, Swapan's mother started shouting.

"What a disaster! A Muslim girl is doing business by hiding her identity. Shi sh....she is doing Thakur Puja again in a pretense!"

A crowd gathered. Many people stared in surprise at the garland of fresh jab flowers around Makali's neck.

When the girl went to fetch water, Swapan's mother held the child. "Who is that girl? Tell me the truth. "I will give you 'lozen'."

Or maybe because of greed for lozen, the child got scared and said, "My mother is."

Wow! From then on, the play began. Many people were enjoying the play. As soon as the secret powdered spices were spread on the blue ghugni and potato dumplings, the audience became customers and started making noise.

"Here, give me more chili."

Someone said, "Don't give me raw onions. Give me a little coriander."

"Don't give me a little beetroot! "Bake the bread a little harder."

A middle-aged woman from the crowd said, "Hindu and Muslim are the food again! That's all!"

There has never been such a bad business as today. Swapan's mother has her hand on her head. More than half of the food is lying around. At that time, Swapan and his mother were sitting in the shop with their faces blackened, chasing away flies. At that time, Neelu came and stood in front of their shop. Swapan, not knowing what to do or say, laughed like a fool. She said, "Every day, the smell of ghugni and alurdam leaves a bad smell."

The girl's face had a faint smile. She said, "When my husband beat me and broke my leg, I used to come to this hospital to see a doctor. Then I had a conversation with Charan aunt. Knowing my sorrow, aunt told me to rent the shop. I am a higher secondary pass. I can cook well. So this shop was on aunt's advice. aunt asked me to keep her identity a secret. She said the shop is next to the temple, if Muslims know, there might be some problems!

Every day when I garland Kali Thakur, I say to myself, "Don't be angry, Thakur. You know everything! There is no difference with you! I garland you with the same mind with which I pray."

Swapan was listening silently. Swapan's mother said, "No matter what you say, doing business while hiding your identity is a sin. You have committed a sin."

The girl said, "I will not sin again from tomorrow. I will call the boy who writes the signboard and have him write Nilufa Fast Food Center. And the way I have been garlanding Kali Thakur and burning incense all this time, I will not stop."

After saying these words, the girl, holding the empty pot in one hand and the child in the other, walked towards the rickshaw stand. Not only Swapan and his mother, but the curious crowd and the other shopkeepers also watched her leave for a long time.