Bhaskar Phukan
In my childhood days, the longish strip of hair that grows below the nose and just above the upper lip called moustache had fascinated me greatly. The twisted ends of the moustache (sometimes pointing upwards and sometimes pointing downwards) that the owners proudly flaunted sparked great interest in me and I dreamt of growing and flaunting a moustache after growing up.
The dream did come true in my case to an extent but the kind of moustache that I now go on to describe in this article, remained an unfulfilled dream.
As a child I was not fond of studying and did not like to read books either. Going to school was an ordeal for me. I was admitted into a famous English medium school in Dibrugarh and almost every day my parents had to cajole and coax me to go to school. Finally my mother had a bright solution. She decided to pack me off to my maternal grandparents' home at Nazira. Her mother (my grandmother) was a strict disciplinarian and therefore my mother thought that by living there I would develop the right mindset towards attending school.
The decision found my favour too. I liked my maternal grandmother's home especially because I had a very good friend in my youngest mama who was of my age.
Much to my mother's delight, I became an obedient student and a disciplined boy (of 10 years of age) under the strict yet loving supervision of my grandmother. Nazira during the early sixties was a small township. It had more of a rural ambience. My grandparents had a big area of land that accommodated the reasonably big house, a cattle shed, a pond and flower garden. I enjoyed the casual trips to the paddy field during harvest period and Magh Bihu.
My grandfather was a businessman and had a brick manufacturing unit a few kilometers away from the residence. There were a few more brick kilns owned by Assamese and Marwari businessmen in the vicinity and my grandfather had a cordial relationship with the rest of the brick makers. A Bihari manager of a Marwari brick maker was particularly fond of my grandfather.
He visited my grandfather mostly in the mornings; sometimes to discuss business matters and sometimes to merely talk. People of the area called him 'Palowan Munib'. The Hindi word Munim is pronounced as Munib in Assamese and as he was a strong bodied, tall and hefty looking man people called him a Palowan (Pehelwan). He had a thick well maintained moustache which impressed me greatly.
Initially I felt a little intimidated in his presence but eventually my reservations melted and I used to exchange smiles and small talk.
One morning he came and sat at the portico and waited for my grandfather. I came out of my room and as usual greeted him and offered to inform my grandfather about his presence. For the first time a strange desire arose in my mind- to touch and feel his beautiful moustache. In the meantime my grandfather came and the two started talking business.
All that while my eyes were glued to the moustache of the Munibji. Although, I was dying to touch and feel the moustache I could well imagine the repercussions.
However, finally I actually touched his moustache. It happened when my grandfather had gone in to bring his writing pad and a pen. The Munib as usual beckoned me and I went near him. I watched him as he absentmindedly fondled and twisted his moustache. I then reached for the moustache and twisted it similarly.
My grandfather was back and I heard his voice of disapproval. The Munibji too was shocked. I thought it was the end of my life and ran from the site to a safe corner behind a tree at the backyard.
I hid there for quite sometime and moments later I could hear my grandfather yelling at me from the rear veranda. I came out of my hideout to face the consequences. However, I found to my relief that things were not as bad as I had feared. Infact it was just the opposite. No anger was shown by any of my family members. All they did was have a hearty long laugh. I too joined them in relief.
bhaskarphukan67@gmail.com
Bhaskar Phukan
He visited my grandfather mostly in the mornings; sometimes to discuss business matters and sometimes to merely talk. People of the area called him 'Palowan Munib'- Strap
One morning he came and sat at the portico and waited for my grandfather. I came out of my room and as usual greeted him and offered to inform my grandfather about his presence. For the first time a strange desire arose in my mind- to touch and feel his beautiful moustache. In the meantime my grandfather came and the two started talking business. All that while my eyes were glued to the moustache of the Munibji. Although, I was dying to touch and feel the moustache I could well imagine the repercussions.
In my childhood days, the longish strip of hair that grows below the nose and just above the upper lip called moustache had fascinated me greatly. The twisted ends of the moustache (sometimes pointing upwards and sometimes pointing downwards) that the owners proudly flaunted sparked great interest in me and I dreamt of growing and flaunting a moustache after growing up.
The dream did come true in my case to an extent but the kind of moustache that I now go on to describe in this article, remained an unfulfilled dream.
As a child I was not fond of studying and did not like to read books either. Going to school was an ordeal for me. I was admitted into a famous English medium school in Dibrugarh and almost every day my parents had to cajole and coax me to go to school. Finally my mother had a bright solution. She decided to pack me off to my maternal grandparents' home at Nazira. Her mother (my grandmother) was a strict disciplinarian and therefore my mother thought that by living there I would develop the right mindset towards attending school.
The decision found my favour too. I liked my maternal grandmother's home especially because I had a very good friend in my youngest mama who was of my age.
Much to my mother's delight, I became an obedient student and a disciplined boy (of 10 years of age) under the strict yet loving supervision of my grandmother. Nazira during the early sixties was a small township. It had more of a rural ambience. My grandparents had a big area of land that accommodated the reasonably big house, a cattle shed, a pond and flower garden. I enjoyed the casual trips to the paddy field during harvest period and Magh Bihu.
My grandfather was a businessman and had a brick manufacturing unit a few kilometers away from the residence. There were a few more brick kilns owned by Assamese and Marwari businessmen in the vicinity and my grandfather had a cordial relationship with the rest of the brick makers. A Bihari manager of a Marwari brick maker was particularly fond of my grandfather.
He visited my grandfather mostly in the mornings; sometimes to discuss business matters and sometimes to merely talk. People of the area called him 'Palowan Munib'. The Hindi word Munim is pronounced as Munib in Assamese and as he was a strong bodied, tall and hefty looking man people called him a Palowan (Pehelwan). He had a thick well maintained moustache which impressed me greatly.
Initially I felt a little intimidated in his presence but eventually my reservations melted and I used to exchange smiles and small talk.
One morning he came and sat at the portico and waited for my grandfather. I came out of my room and as usual greeted him and offered to inform my grandfather about his presence. For the first time a strange desire arose in my mind- to touch and feel his beautiful moustache. In the meantime my grandfather came and the two started talking business.
All that while my eyes were glued to the moustache of the Munibji. Although, I was dying to touch and feel the moustache I could well imagine the repercussions.
However, finally I actually touched his moustache. It happened when my grandfather had gone in to bring his writing pad and a pen. The Munib as usual beckoned me and I went near him. I watched him as he absentmindedly fondled and twisted his moustache. I then reached for the moustache and twisted it similarly.
My grandfather was back and I heard his voice of disapproval. The Munibji too was shocked. I thought it was the end of my life and ran from the site to a safe corner behind a tree at the backyard.
I hid there for quite sometime and moments later I could hear my grandfather yelling at me from the rear veranda. I came out of my hideout to face the consequences. However, I found to my relief that things were not as bad as I had feared. Infact it was just the opposite. No anger was shown by any of my family members. All they did was have a hearty long laugh. I too joined them in relief.
bhaskarphukan67@gmail.com
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