Life

The Hawaiin Shirt and a Flashback

Sometimes common objects around us can spark memories and nostalgia.

Sentinel Digital Desk

REFLECTIONS

The story was about bargaining over a pony in a market where horses were bought and sold. It was a market at Chittagong (Chattagram in Bengali) in erstwhile East Pakistan. The customer was miserly while the seller was a hard nut to crack. The bargaining stretched for long and the prospective buyer was stuck at a price less than half of what was quoted. In course of the bargaining the horse gave a long whinny. 

As far as my shopping habits are concerned I am a traditional buyer. I like to buy things with hard cash instead of making online payments or card payments. Also I go and shop in the traditional shops instead of shopping malls and I must admit that I have got a nasty habit of bargaining. I am a stern believer of the old adage that a buck saved is a buck earned and at times this stern belief of mine puts my wife into an embarrassing spot when we are out shopping together.

Talking about bargaining, I find a little story or two coming to my mind. One such story was told by late Dr. Bhupen Hazarika during the course of an informal meet in our residence during my school days. The story was about bargaining over a pony in a market where horses were bought and sold. It was a market at Chittagong (Chattagram in Bengali) in erstwhile East Pakistan . The customer was miserly and the seller was a hard nut to crack . The bargaining stretched for long and the prospective buyer was stuck at a price less than half of what was quoted. In course of the bargaining the horse gave a long whinny. Hearing this the horse trader too smiled and told the customer "Look my dear friend, even the horse could not stop it's laugh at the price you have been offering."

However, the shirt that I am going to write about was not something that I chose, bargained and bought for myself. It was a Durga Puja gift from my wife and daughter and was bought during one of their shopping sprees. So naturally the purchase was done in keeping with their taste from a garments outlet in a shopping mall .

To be very frank I did not much approve of their choice. The style, print and colour of the shirt were not to my liking. To me the shirt looked a little too fancy for a person of my age. When I expressed my opinion my wife defended their selection by saying "What is wrong if you wear something that will make you look little smart and young? People much older than you wear gaudy outfits . I did not stretch the conversation any further and asked her to put it inside my cupboard. I forgot about the shirt for the next few days but in the morning of the Asthami day of Durga Puja my daughter reminded me about the shirt and asked me to wear it to see how it looks on me .

I was alone at home during the entire morning as my wife and daughter had gone to the neighborhood puja. I opened my wardrobe and took out the shirt from the package and had a proper look at it for the first time. The design of the shirt looked familiar. I realised that I used to wear a similar shirt in the past too. After a few minutes of pondering I suddenly remembered that I used to wear a similar looking shirt in school. I was now absolutely sure that only the style of tailoring differed and that this new shirt was like the Hawaiin shirt I used to wear during those days.

With the shirt on I went near the mirror and all of a sudden I felt transported back in time to my days in Tezpur. I remembered my three year long stay at Tezpur and vividly remembered something that I had long forgotten.

I was about sixteen then and had my first crush on a girl. A girl next door called Rupali who was a couple of years older to me and attending college. I had a constant urge to see her and be with her. And during the Durga Puja days ample opportunities had surfaced to meet and talk to each other. After the Durga Puja was over I did not see her for quite sometime owing to long holidays. These were restless days for me. Going to her home was one option but I was too shy to do that and besides there was no ready excuse (to offer to her mother or her father) of meeting her.

Finally I mustered courage and confidence and went to her place. The welcome from her mother was surprisingly cordial but what came a little while later was exactly the opposite. "Well, young boy" she started "Things like this happen to most people at a certain age . I know what is going on between you and Rupali and I can never approve of it. Do not forget that you are a very young boy and younger to her. She is going to complete college in another year and what about you? Stop this silly affair and stay away from her. I have warned Rupali and she has agreed to my words." I felt choked within my throat and did not or could not say anything. I came out from her house through the gate after closing and bolting the latch properly.

I remembered one more thing very clearly too. I had worn my best shirt on my visit to Rupali's house that day and the shirt gifted by my wife and my daughter happened to be of the same print,design and material.

By: Bhaskar Phukan

bhaskarphukan67@gmail.com

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