It is the longest 20 minutes of our lives by the time we get to the site of the crash and I am amazed it has taken so long for the news that Dada's vehicle, his ultra posh bright white 4x4, had been shoved off-road to be honest.
Considering he is the Patriarch of mum's side of the family and the main celebrity of this venture, you'd have thought response times would have been slicker. Then again, this is Bangladesh after all, a place where time moves at a completely different pace to that of England due to lack of organisation.
All of us are leaning forward desperately trying to see what the situation is through the windscreen but are struggling to make out much as it has become quite dark now and huge thunder clouds have gathered overhead to add to the already depressing atmosphere.
As expected, there are no street lights but luckily...or maybe that should be unluckily...the headlights of the crashed 4x4 are flickering off and on so we can make out a little even if not all of what has happened.
It doesn't help that we aren't allowed to park close to the scene of the accident due to there already being a crowd gathered, but instead we are directed by some of the more helpful locals to move on.
"That is so fucking annoying!" I say as we are ushered away and although my sister and I'm sure the others in our vehicle share my frustration, unlike me they accept the gathering as the norm - it did not matter that we were family at all, those that were there got there first!
Okay, so maybe that's a bit harsh and there is a severe case of stereotyping going on in my mind at least, but even with a quick glance I can tell most are there to merely check out the chaos but not to actually help; probably because TVs aren't readily available so an accident usually brings the same excitement as a soap.
In any event, as we fly passed to get parked, I decide to refocus my attention on the more serious matter to hand and as we rubber-neck going passed, I can see enough to tell the crash is a fucking mess.
The 4x4 has been clearly rammed off the road, down on to the dusty embankments before colliding head-on and wrapping its front end around a huge banana tree.
Our driver does a U-turn in the road to park on the same side of the scene next to the other two people carriers that were in the convoy following the 4x4 and telling us all to stay in the vehicle, he gets out and dashes over to the other drivers to see what the situation is.
I am desperate to find out for myself what the score is as we all sit restlessly within, "We can't sit around waiting to find out what has happened, we should get out there!" I pipe up.
My sister clenches my arm knowing what I am feeling but at the same time, the look in her eyes are also telling me to stay put for the time being until we know further, hoping that in and amongst the swarm surrounding the 4x4 local police and some medical attention has arrived.
But being in some no man's land stuck on some dusty road from mum's remote village to Dhaka, I somehow doubt that Bangladesh is the kind of place where any law enforcement or an ambulance would be so readily available, but I still reluctantly agree to play possum for now.
I have to say, I am totally surprised Goldie hasn't made a dash for it to check out what has happened considering he is normally in the thick of things but even he realises for now, patience is a virtue so if he can see sense, surely I had to.
By the time the driver has come back, the rumbling of the thunderclouds has finally turned into a torrential down pour and the poor guy is soaked through.
Before I even say anything, my sister frantically asks, "Brother, you must tell us, what is the situation?"
He hesitates but finally begins to speak, "Conditions with there being no light is not good. The locals have brought oil-lanterns to help with the light but these keep getting blown out..."
"Forget that - is everyone alright?!" I interrupt, abruptly to say the least.
"Your father seems to be okay brother and he is trying to do what he can but as we are in the middle of nowhere, we have tried getting another private vehicle ordered so that all passengers can get in that and be driven to the nearest hospital rather than wait for an ambulance..."
Despite the rain bouncing on the roof of our vehicle making it a tad difficult to make out every word he is saying, I put two and two together and understand what he is getting at.
They needed medical attention but thankfully, they were injured but not dead and dad by some miracle, seemed to be okay enough to try and help.
I look around the vehicle and everyone remains glued to their seats as I watch the driver's mouth continue moving revealing as much detail as he has been given.
Some sit in silent contemplation of what to do next like my sister and Tanny, others wonder how lucky they are that it was not them like Anik, Sajid and Goldie whilst little Princess goes on about how grateful she is that her parents were not in the 4x4, but it is Neema who breaks everyone's sense of contemplation.
"Is there anything we should be doing?" she says, desperation in her voice as a lightning bolt lights up the inside of our vehicle and thunder booms in the night sky.
I look out the window and can see all other family members who were travelling with us all huddled together in their vehicles, with equal measure of bewilderment and fear as to what to do next and I realise, it was time for a little magic.
I open my Magic Bag and taking a pouch out, unfold its contents and it opens into a water proof black mack with a hood. I then pull out an orange walkie talkie and give it to my sister, "Here, hold this - I'm going over there to give dad a hand and I'll update you once I know more using my walkie talkie!"
Before my sister can say anything I have already leant over to Princess who is holding the inflatable pillow I had given her and jump out into the rain.
Pulling out my battery/wind-up dynamo torch to help light my way to the 4x4, I begin to run as fast as the stinging rain lets me; besides the rain itself, I have to take every stride with caution as the last thing I wanted was to add to the casualties and twist my ankle or worse, in some pot-hole as I ran towards dad.
When I get there, I see dad is trying to make out how best to help the injured in conditions worse than I could have imagined.
There is glass everywhere on and around them all, the windscreen having smashed into pieces when they crashed and with there being no permanent lights, dad is working to the warm glow of a kerosene fuelled lantern.
He is both surprised and pleased to see me as I shine my torch into the 4x4, "Need help sir!" I jest trying to lighten the situation.
"What are you doing here baba? I thought I told the driver to ask everyone to stay in their vehicles!" dad says back.
"Hmmm, don't think I gave him the chance to get that far actually dad! So what do you need?"
"Shine your torch on Dadi's arm here for now..."
I look around as I do this and dad has blood and dirt on his crisp white pyjama/punjabi but besides some cuts on his forehead, in himself seems okay, if a little shaken.
The driver is bruised and seems to have broken his nose from the crash and his air-bag combo, and is holding his head tilted up high and holding his nose.
"Forget his nose, I'm just bloody glad a country which doesn't even have seat-belts actually had an air-bag otherwise, judging from the turmoil, he'd be dead - no two ways about that!" I mused to myself somewhat shocked.
Dada in the meantime, is leaning with his head resting on the side of the 4x4 with a massive lump on his temple and seems to be in a daze but he seems to be breathing normally and with no cuts at all, "so as long as the concussion is minor, the big guy's safe." I say under my breath.
However, it is Dadi who is the worst off.
I can see several cuts all over Dadi's arms but it is the huge angular mass protruding just below the elbow of her right arm that worries me. The skin has not been broken, but I suspect the bone is!
Despite how I feel about her at times, I reach in and hold Dadi's hand with my free one whilst still holding the torch as steady as possible with my other as she moans in agony as dad tries to figure out if the bone has actually broken or not.
"Dad, I have pain killers if you think that will help."
"Yes, that would be great, but I need bandages and antiseptic too for the cuts everyone has and something to make a sling out of for Dadi" dad responds and no sooner has he said that, I have let go of Dadi's hand and placed the torch balanced on the ground and started routing through my Magic Bag.
I pull out bandages of all shapes and sizes and my antiseptic cream as well as antiseptic wipes, but before I do anything I wash my hands with the non-stick stuff I have been carrying around and put on some forensic gloves I also have.
My dad pauses for a second and then smirks despite the situation, "Your mummy trained you a little too well."
As the storm rages on around us, I apply antiseptic cream or wipes as needed to everyone including dad and help dad create a sling for Dadi. After which I march around to Dada's side and open the door, he is more awake by this point and smiles as I lift his head up and place my pillow under his head, "It will make you a little more comfortable Dada" I say wiping water away from my face as rain continues falling uncontrollably.
"Your brother Asif would have been so impressed with you...I thought only he prepared for everything but must be in the blood." Dada says softly but with a warm smile clear enough for me to understand and managing to lift my spirit despite the position we are in.
"No need to talk Dada. Help is on the way."
"Help is already here!" a voice utters from behind me and as I turn I am blinded by the light of a vehicle and there are the shapes of three people walking towards me who I make out to be Tanny, my sister and Neema all soaking wet.
"Errr, I thought everyone was going to stay put until I buzzed in on the walkie talkie to update at least!" I chirp with a smile, clearly pleased to see the cavalry.
"Yeah well, you never talkied so we walkied" my sister says back, "anyway, Goldie took the liberty of calling the private hire company and they mentioned that the new vehicle is almost here so we all took an executive decision to cram into this clapped-out 4x4 and transfer these guys into our vehicle so that we can get them over to the nearest hospital ASAP instead of having to wait longer."
I look over at Dada and then back at the gang and smile as Anik, Sajid, Princess and even Goldie then climb out of our vehicle and start asking dad how best to move everyone over to our vehicle.
Dad smiles brightly, proud to see this next generation of our family pull together this way when the perceived elders, who are meant to be the more sensible and responsible, continue to stare out from the comfort of their vehicles at the drama as it unfolds.
Once we have transferred everyone over into the vehicle, totally by coincidence, the new vehicle arrives so the gang including Goldie scurry into the new one to get out of the rain except for me as Dadi has grabbed hold of my sleeve with her left arm, her right hanging out of her make shift sling.
"When your mummy died, I was very sad," she says, "despite how things were between us, I loved the fact that no matter how many times I tried to knock her down, she kept springing right back up..."
"Ssshhhh, Dadi" I say but she continues.
"I just wanted to say she has done an amazing job with you and your sister too. I can see her in both of you...living through both of you. Never forget that, no matter how down you feel now that she is gone."
She strokes my head as I step away and slide the door shut.
Dad is sitting at the front with the driver and winding his window down asks me to ensure we all continue to head home rather than follow them to the hospital seeing as we were no more than another couple of hours from home, I nod but make him promise to call us to know the position once he knew.
As I watch the rear lights of their vehicle disappear into the darkness, I smile and look up at the thunderous sky and pulling my hood down, close my eyes and picture mum smiling down at us.
I think about what Dadi had said and as I hear the faint murmur of my sister shouting at me to get into our vehicle so that we can get going and I can avoid catching a cold, I smile back at mum.
As I turn to get into the car I decide if mum is listening to let her know we were going to alright, "The Khans may be down mum without you, but like you, we have a long way to go before we are out. We miss you...but thank you for making us who we are" and sliding our door shut, I ask the driver to get us home.
20100919
Chapter Twenty Four: Preparation
Having completed the ferry trip coming back from mum's village and driven a few more hours, we finally stop for lunch, timed Bangladeshi-style though at a leisurely 5pm!
I am absolutely starving but it has helped that the return journey so far has been quite entertaining seeing as it has merely been the driver as the only official supervisory adult in the vehicle and seeing as we parked in a different section on the ferry too away from the elders, we were free to do what we liked.
Okay, so my sister, Tanny and I were clearly over 30 and cousin Neema over 25 but seeing as we were more the Western style - let's all be friends and have a laugh - types, the free-flowing chats and mucking about seemed endless.
I even managed to find out the name of the other elusive lanky cousin: Anik, "Of course! I always knew that but when I last saw him he was such a geek we all used to jokingly call him Anorak."
Until we actually stopped for lunch, the cousins had been asking endless questions: what was England like, how hard did we work, how much did we earn, did we like Bangladesh, did our spouses ever want to visit Bangladesh and so on.
Every time my sister or I had batted one question away, another had come in its place and whilst I could see my sister becoming visibly annoyed at the constant quizzing, I was loving the celebrity-esque attention. Felt like I was a movie-star on some interview show.
Besides, it was lovely to spend some alone time with my closer cousins and kind of forget why we were really there. Instead we could immerse ourselves in the feeling that we had come to Bangladesh not for a sad occasion but a celebratory one; to relish the fact that we had a chance to see family we had long been out of touch with.
During the discussions it was also fascinating to hear what they had to say about their lives in Bangladesh as they compared it to our lives abroad.
Sajid, Anik and little Princess had never lived abroad and although neither had Tanny, he was at least pretty clued up with life in the West from his obsession with Hollywood and collecting Comics...a little like me then...okay - a lot like me then!
They just could not get their heads round the fact that we drove everywhere ourselves, did our own chores like cleaning the house or washing and ironing our clothes and seemed completely gobsmacked that we could ever spend hours a week over a hot stove preparing food for our meals, "How do you have time to do anything else?" Anik kept asking, baffled with our way of life.
"Chores are the least of your worries when you have children eh, big sis?" was a comment that came my sister's way from Tanny as the cousins went quiet to hear her response seeing as in Bangladesh, if someone has any children no matter how old, not only do they have all the support staff but they also have aunties, parents or at least parents-in-law living with them.
They were visibly shocked when my sister pointed out that her and her hubby with my two little nephews lived on their own almost 30 minutes away from our parents and 5 hours from her hubby's!
"Hey Allah!" the equivalent of crying out to God in shock, was all the quizzical cousins could say in unison as Tanny, Neema and I laughed out loud at the horror in their voices.
I laughed then, but thinking about it, it really is a case of pros and cons when you compare the East and the West I guess.
Yes, family and even friends can be overwhelming and in your face in the East to say the least but the amount of support you do get til death do you part is amazing.
There is no such thing as an old people's home. Family always look after their own but there is a cost - a cost of independence and self-reliance.
The children grow up and fly the nest in the West but in the East the eldest child especially where a son, is expected to stay with the elderly parents with his wife and children to look after them all until they pass away.
They lose their independece as far as I was concerned and by being practically gifted everything, property and all from their parents, almost always resulted in these elder children having no sense of making their own way in life!
So what would have been better for mum during her latter days I wonder?
Despite the incredible medical attention mum received in England and support she received, particularly from dad, I can only imagine how much more attention she would have got in Bangladesh if we all lived here.
She would have had family and servants serving her every need...but then again, she would have probably have died within a year of being diagnosed due to the treatments in Bangladesh still being behind that of England's.
"Pick your poison" is all I can think of. There is probably no right or wrong answer as come what may, mum would have died and I emotionally distraught, clawing my way out of an endless black hole.
Anyway, going back to the journey, all the quizzing aside, my cousins were also interested in what I had in my medium sized brown leather satchel that I seemed to permanently have hanging off my shoulder since we landed in Bangladesh and had been travelling around.
"Everything!" my sister said laughingly, "you can blame your auntie - Allah bless her soul - for that. Having sent your cousin to the military scouts for almost six years when we lived in Bangladesh...cos he was a little tearaway!"
"Don't listen to her guys - I was always as good as gold...but if you believe that you'll believe anything!" I said with a wry smile before continuing, "but what is within? Well, that would be telling...as and when we need things you'll see what I have in my magic bag!" and as luck wuld have it, over the next few hours before our stop for lunch, I was continually put in positions that required assistance from the contents of my satchel.
Besides the diving knife I permanently had strapped to my shin which we used to peel and chop up some fruit that we bought whilst on the ferry, my survival instinct as bestowed upon me by mum and the Bangladeshi military scouts, really did mean I had pretty much all angles covered.
I had antiseptic cream and a plaster when Sajid grazed himself on the ferry steps when he slipped, I had an inflatable pillow when Princess fell asleep in the vehicle, I had plastic bags to collect our rubbish as we snacked during the journey back to my cousins' outrage - "we can just throw the rubbish out the window brother - this is not England, it's Bangladesh - no one cares!", cards and a board game were whipped out to keep us entertained whenever cousins mused over replies given and what questions to ask next.
Heck! I even had a multi-tool to tighten the screws on Tanny's shades and non-stick/non-water requiring hand wash for everyone after they had eaten their snacks.
Probably the highlight though was seeing the expression on my sister's face and my annoyance, when I remembered I also had anti-nausea pills for when she started feeling motion sickness, "how did I forget I had those when I had Gorom Peth!" I kept asking myself.
Still, the constant screeches my sister made as our vehicle constantly swerved, jumped, bumbed, dodged and glided along the scarily crowded roads en route made up for that...the lack of seat belts to me made it all the more exciting but her reaction was hilarious especially whenever she noticed us speeding head on towards an oncoming car from the opposite direction!
"Your bag really is magical!" Princess kept saying by the time we parked up for lunch.
"Yep - my friends back home actually call it my Magic Bag for that reason," I said to Princess, "and you guys haven't even seen the cooler stuff yet!" I joked.
The lunch keeping it brief, is more of a banquet then a standard British sandwich with crisps and a drink or even the larger Sunday roasts my sister and I had become accustomed to in merry ol'England.
Set in a massive dining hall of a Chinese restaurant situated on the 15th floor which Dada had booked in advance, we all sit around several long rectangular tables linked together running along a wall of glass over looking the town we had stopped at.
Dada is sitting at the top of one end along the short side of the table on his own with the family spread along either side of the table except for me. Instead I decide sitting on the other end opposite Dada would be fine, not really thinking about Bangladeshi etiquette as I take my seat although I do think it is odd that some of the elders of the family and Dadi in particular are whispering and pointing at me as I do but forget all about it as the food arrives.
It is heaven for a glutton like me. Our nibbles are followed by starters followed by soup followed by huge amounts of fried rice and various chinese curries and then finished off with Asian sweets made of milk-solids. Drinks permanently flow throughout and by the time we finish, I actually regret ever feeling hungry.
"God - I'm stuffed!" Tanny pipes up as he and I finish off our forth plate of gorgeously greasy fried rice with some duck in black bean and chilli sauce.
"Yeah well, considering the lack of self-control I've exhibited, let's pray I don't get Gorom Peth again dude!" I say as I nab and wolf down one last spring roll that cousin Neema still had on her plate but was about to chuck away.
She looks at me totally shocked that I still had any room but eventually breaks into a smile, "Waste not, want not eh?"
"Too damn right!" Tanny chirps as I smile but try not to laugh too hard, mouth full of spring onions and pastry, "besides, he has anti-vomiting pills now, there'll be no stopping him!" which Neema bursts out laughing to and I end up choking to.
As the meal slowly comes to an end, my dad clinks his glass with his unused fork seeing as everyone has been eating with their hands as is the traditional way in Bangladesh to eat, and asks the head of the table to say a few words.
The family including myself, look down the table towards Dada expecting him to say something but before anything is done, Dadi interupts snidely giving me the most horrible glare, "But who is the head of the table? My husband the renowned politician and war hero or my nephew who has not been back for over 10 years?"
Everyone especially Dada, give Dadi an awkward stare for even having to make an issue of myself sitting at the other end of the table - but I suddenly realise what the issue is; inadvertently it seems I had challenged Dada's authority by taking the seat opposite at the table when I should have sat on one of the sides.
However, not to be outdone and made to feel more of a fool than Dadi had already tried to make me feel, I quickly remark, "Well Dadi, two heads - be they on top of a body or of a family - surely are better than one?"
There is silence initially and everyone looks at Dada for his response.
Thankfully, the big guy starts laughing which in turn leads to everyone else following suit...save for Dadi of course.
"I managed to diffuse the situation but how petty is that though - as if I had nothing better to do than to try and challenge Dada.
I love and respect him too much and besides, there would be nothing for me to gain in even doing so!" I mused angrily.
As Dada says a few words, thanking us all for being such great company so far and how proud mum would have been of all of us, particularly my sister and I, my sister can tell I'm a little miffed regarding Dadi's stupid comment so tries cheering me up.
"Nice answer bro, not just prepared for anything with that Magic Bag of yours but with what little brain you have too!" she pauses but I just give her a tight-lipped smile, "Oh c'mon, leave it...you know what mum used to say...when anyone says anything negative to you take it with a pinch of salt, but when it is Dadi, take it with a pound of salt!"
I smile slightly more as I decide she is right.
There were several reasons why mum really did not like Dadi but shit-stirring was numero uno!
Spying a sweet left over on Princess' plate I go on to choose cheering myself up even more by stealing it away before the restaurant staff do and it tastes delightful.
"Nothing like comfort eating!" I say to Tanny mouth half full as he laughs as subtley as possible so as to not interrupt Dada's little speech.
By the time I have rinsed down the remnants of the sweet with the last swig of my coke, I have completely missed what Dada has said save for "Right, we must get moving again" and find myself leading my end of the table up and out to our vehicle.
As we get on board and take our seats to continue on, Anik who is shutting the sliding door of our vehicle stops abruptly holding the door ajar halfway due to Goldie running towards us shouting at the top of his voice, "Wait...wait!"
Anik who is seated on the middle row in the passenger section and nearest the door, pulls it open and we all peer out, "I am bored sitting with the elders so am going to join all of you for the rest of the trip!" Goldie says.
I want to tell the guy to fuck off and wish I had something in my Magic Bag to make the loser disappear but Sajid, Anik and Princess are so excited with the prospect that I don't have the heart to do anything.
Instead as it is almost 730pm at this point, I decide the most strategic option is to pretend to be tired and try and sleep - no point in making a scene and engage the enemy!
However, there was no way I was going to sit next to him and as I move from the front row to swap seats with one of the cousins at the back, my sister follows.
I smirk as my sister rolls her eyes as we ask Sajid and Princess who are seated on the back row to move to the front to allow Goldie to have a seat with them seeing as they are smaller and slimmer and they move obligingly.
Tanny in the meantime having overheard what Goldie has said has simultaneously gotten out of his seat next to the driver to see if Goldie would rather sit there and thus give myself and my sister as much space as possible from the idiot.
However he is surprised to see us moving to the back as he peers in, and I shrug my shoulders at him and using my head, usher him to go back to his seat; "the cousins adored him so why upset them by putting their favourite uncle out of reach" is my reasoning as much as it pains me.
Neema and Anik remain seated in the middle row seeming totally oblivious to all the moving around but then again, there is no need for them to do anything so they just chat away as we too and fro around them.
As we set off Goldie is boisterously telling jokes and playing with Princess and Sajid who are seated either side of him and the more he laughs, the more irritated I am getting.
I can't seem to help it.
Luckily, I dig my hands into my Magic Bag and pull out some ear plugs and a blindfold as well, getting ready to shut him and the world out for the last leg of the journey but my sister sees my trinkets and pulls such a Bambi-esque face with her eyes all wide and bottom lip up-turned, I hand them over to her and she dozes off to sleep in an instant thanks to me!
As I look at her I grumble to myself, "Grrrr, soooo annoying!" with Goldie's maddening laughter rattling my eardrums more and more.
As Goldie is hitting Sajid over the head with the inflatable pillow I had given to Princess to use for her sleep earlier, he spots me looking over and out of the blue calls over to me, "Not sleeping baba?"
Anik and Neema turn to look at me over their shoulders as I look at them and back to Goldie, "Nah, thinking of home - wondering what my lovely wife is doing so might text her!"
"Yes, yes - go ahead...but won't she be at work now? Aren't they 6 hours behind us or something in England?" he informs me smugly.
"Yep, but doesn't mean she can't read a text!" I say in response.
Slightly irritated at my response, he continues,"Well, we all can't wait to meet her...although, before you bring her here, you will make sure she has become a Muslim first won't you? I mean we all know she is English so perhaps Christian and that your mother was very liberal minded but now that she is gone, surely you won't allow her to remain a Christian."
I am pretty sure Goldie is doing this purely to get a rise out of me so try and remain calm. However, to my surprise, Neema has gotten equally as annoyed.
"No. She isn't Muslim. Why? Is that a problem?" Neema asks having met my wife several times when she studied in England and being quite good Facebook buddies with her.
"Hmmm, that is not good you see. Maybe not in this life but in the afterlife it will mean she will burn in hell!" Goldie says to Neema with the most wicked grin.
"Is that meant to be funny coz it really is not!" I finally say angrily; Neema echoing my sentiments as well with a moan.
Tanny at this point is practically perched with his back to the windscreen staring at the back of Goldie's neck pulling the evillest look I've ever seen, whilst Sajid and Anik have both frozen in their seats.
"Why will she go to hell?" Princess asks.
Looking away from Neema and locking eyes with me, Goldie lovingly strokes Princess' cheek and actually has the audacity to say very seriously, "Hell is where all non-Muslims go little one as they are not pure enough for heaven!"
"What the fuck?!" I shout out.
How dare he go around inciting such stupid and ridiculous schools of thoughts in people's minds let alone someone as innocent as Princess but I don't have to say much more.
Always trying to be ready for anything with my Magic Bag, I am still taken by complete surprise as controversially Neema, Sajid and Anik break the norm of having to agree with whatever elders say and begin arguing a considerable amount with Goldie in the defence of their sister-in-law and non-Muslims of the world!
As sweat starts gathering on Goldie's forehead from having to take this bollocking from my cousins, I just look over at Tanny with genuine pride in my eyes that these cousins of mine who had no idea of what life was like beyond Bangladesh were so forward thinking that they knew instantly that what Goldie was spouting was pure, unadulterated bull shit!
Plus, they were willing to risk getting told off by their parents later for such unruly behaviour for my wife, a person they had not even met but whom they clearly loved all the same as she was the other half of my being.
Before Goldie has a chance to respond to yet another one of Neema's well founded queries as to what makes a Muslim more superior to another human being though, the driver's mobile goes off and answering for only a brief moment, he slams on the brakes and the car jolts to a halt, "Could everyone please hold on tight, I must turn around urgently!"
As the vehicle does a massive U-turn in the middle of the road, my heart starts beating faster - something was clearly not right and that was not in reference to the lack of brain cells Goldie had.
"What's wrong...what's happened?!" I shout across the cabin to the driver while at the same time, shaking my sister out of her slumber with one arm.
"There has been...an accident," he says hesitantly, "...try not to be alarmed but Dada's vehicle has been run off the road. It has crashed into a tree so we have been asked to hurry back there now!"
I start panicking, "Fuck Goldie and his stupid thoughts, dad was in that vehicle with Dada and Dadi and none of them with fucking seat belts!"
My priority now was to use every ounce of energy I had to hope and pray everyone involved in the accident was alright.
I had already lost my mum but to lose dad as well on this journey would probably destroy every little part of me that had started believing life could only get better.
As we drive like crazy towards the scene of the crash, we all sit in silence not knowing what to expect. I can see each of the cousins and even Goldie occasionally look at one another but no one knows what to say until Princess climbs up on to her seat and facing towards the back looks at me, "Don't worry - your bag is magic - I know you will be able to find something that will make everything better!"
I look into her bright and hopeful eyes and smiling weakly, clutch my Magic Bag tightly – I had prepared for most things but nothing like this – so I start praying.
If Allah was watching, what we needed right now was something a little less magic and more of a miracle to get us out of this disaster.
I am absolutely starving but it has helped that the return journey so far has been quite entertaining seeing as it has merely been the driver as the only official supervisory adult in the vehicle and seeing as we parked in a different section on the ferry too away from the elders, we were free to do what we liked.
Okay, so my sister, Tanny and I were clearly over 30 and cousin Neema over 25 but seeing as we were more the Western style - let's all be friends and have a laugh - types, the free-flowing chats and mucking about seemed endless.
I even managed to find out the name of the other elusive lanky cousin: Anik, "Of course! I always knew that but when I last saw him he was such a geek we all used to jokingly call him Anorak."
Until we actually stopped for lunch, the cousins had been asking endless questions: what was England like, how hard did we work, how much did we earn, did we like Bangladesh, did our spouses ever want to visit Bangladesh and so on.
Every time my sister or I had batted one question away, another had come in its place and whilst I could see my sister becoming visibly annoyed at the constant quizzing, I was loving the celebrity-esque attention. Felt like I was a movie-star on some interview show.
Besides, it was lovely to spend some alone time with my closer cousins and kind of forget why we were really there. Instead we could immerse ourselves in the feeling that we had come to Bangladesh not for a sad occasion but a celebratory one; to relish the fact that we had a chance to see family we had long been out of touch with.
During the discussions it was also fascinating to hear what they had to say about their lives in Bangladesh as they compared it to our lives abroad.
Sajid, Anik and little Princess had never lived abroad and although neither had Tanny, he was at least pretty clued up with life in the West from his obsession with Hollywood and collecting Comics...a little like me then...okay - a lot like me then!
They just could not get their heads round the fact that we drove everywhere ourselves, did our own chores like cleaning the house or washing and ironing our clothes and seemed completely gobsmacked that we could ever spend hours a week over a hot stove preparing food for our meals, "How do you have time to do anything else?" Anik kept asking, baffled with our way of life.
"Chores are the least of your worries when you have children eh, big sis?" was a comment that came my sister's way from Tanny as the cousins went quiet to hear her response seeing as in Bangladesh, if someone has any children no matter how old, not only do they have all the support staff but they also have aunties, parents or at least parents-in-law living with them.
They were visibly shocked when my sister pointed out that her and her hubby with my two little nephews lived on their own almost 30 minutes away from our parents and 5 hours from her hubby's!
"Hey Allah!" the equivalent of crying out to God in shock, was all the quizzical cousins could say in unison as Tanny, Neema and I laughed out loud at the horror in their voices.
I laughed then, but thinking about it, it really is a case of pros and cons when you compare the East and the West I guess.
Yes, family and even friends can be overwhelming and in your face in the East to say the least but the amount of support you do get til death do you part is amazing.
There is no such thing as an old people's home. Family always look after their own but there is a cost - a cost of independence and self-reliance.
The children grow up and fly the nest in the West but in the East the eldest child especially where a son, is expected to stay with the elderly parents with his wife and children to look after them all until they pass away.
They lose their independece as far as I was concerned and by being practically gifted everything, property and all from their parents, almost always resulted in these elder children having no sense of making their own way in life!
So what would have been better for mum during her latter days I wonder?
Despite the incredible medical attention mum received in England and support she received, particularly from dad, I can only imagine how much more attention she would have got in Bangladesh if we all lived here.
She would have had family and servants serving her every need...but then again, she would have probably have died within a year of being diagnosed due to the treatments in Bangladesh still being behind that of England's.
"Pick your poison" is all I can think of. There is probably no right or wrong answer as come what may, mum would have died and I emotionally distraught, clawing my way out of an endless black hole.
Anyway, going back to the journey, all the quizzing aside, my cousins were also interested in what I had in my medium sized brown leather satchel that I seemed to permanently have hanging off my shoulder since we landed in Bangladesh and had been travelling around.
"Everything!" my sister said laughingly, "you can blame your auntie - Allah bless her soul - for that. Having sent your cousin to the military scouts for almost six years when we lived in Bangladesh...cos he was a little tearaway!"
"Don't listen to her guys - I was always as good as gold...but if you believe that you'll believe anything!" I said with a wry smile before continuing, "but what is within? Well, that would be telling...as and when we need things you'll see what I have in my magic bag!" and as luck wuld have it, over the next few hours before our stop for lunch, I was continually put in positions that required assistance from the contents of my satchel.
Besides the diving knife I permanently had strapped to my shin which we used to peel and chop up some fruit that we bought whilst on the ferry, my survival instinct as bestowed upon me by mum and the Bangladeshi military scouts, really did mean I had pretty much all angles covered.
I had antiseptic cream and a plaster when Sajid grazed himself on the ferry steps when he slipped, I had an inflatable pillow when Princess fell asleep in the vehicle, I had plastic bags to collect our rubbish as we snacked during the journey back to my cousins' outrage - "we can just throw the rubbish out the window brother - this is not England, it's Bangladesh - no one cares!", cards and a board game were whipped out to keep us entertained whenever cousins mused over replies given and what questions to ask next.
Heck! I even had a multi-tool to tighten the screws on Tanny's shades and non-stick/non-water requiring hand wash for everyone after they had eaten their snacks.
Probably the highlight though was seeing the expression on my sister's face and my annoyance, when I remembered I also had anti-nausea pills for when she started feeling motion sickness, "how did I forget I had those when I had Gorom Peth!" I kept asking myself.
Still, the constant screeches my sister made as our vehicle constantly swerved, jumped, bumbed, dodged and glided along the scarily crowded roads en route made up for that...the lack of seat belts to me made it all the more exciting but her reaction was hilarious especially whenever she noticed us speeding head on towards an oncoming car from the opposite direction!
"Your bag really is magical!" Princess kept saying by the time we parked up for lunch.
"Yep - my friends back home actually call it my Magic Bag for that reason," I said to Princess, "and you guys haven't even seen the cooler stuff yet!" I joked.
The lunch keeping it brief, is more of a banquet then a standard British sandwich with crisps and a drink or even the larger Sunday roasts my sister and I had become accustomed to in merry ol'England.
Set in a massive dining hall of a Chinese restaurant situated on the 15th floor which Dada had booked in advance, we all sit around several long rectangular tables linked together running along a wall of glass over looking the town we had stopped at.
Dada is sitting at the top of one end along the short side of the table on his own with the family spread along either side of the table except for me. Instead I decide sitting on the other end opposite Dada would be fine, not really thinking about Bangladeshi etiquette as I take my seat although I do think it is odd that some of the elders of the family and Dadi in particular are whispering and pointing at me as I do but forget all about it as the food arrives.
It is heaven for a glutton like me. Our nibbles are followed by starters followed by soup followed by huge amounts of fried rice and various chinese curries and then finished off with Asian sweets made of milk-solids. Drinks permanently flow throughout and by the time we finish, I actually regret ever feeling hungry.
"God - I'm stuffed!" Tanny pipes up as he and I finish off our forth plate of gorgeously greasy fried rice with some duck in black bean and chilli sauce.
"Yeah well, considering the lack of self-control I've exhibited, let's pray I don't get Gorom Peth again dude!" I say as I nab and wolf down one last spring roll that cousin Neema still had on her plate but was about to chuck away.
She looks at me totally shocked that I still had any room but eventually breaks into a smile, "Waste not, want not eh?"
"Too damn right!" Tanny chirps as I smile but try not to laugh too hard, mouth full of spring onions and pastry, "besides, he has anti-vomiting pills now, there'll be no stopping him!" which Neema bursts out laughing to and I end up choking to.
As the meal slowly comes to an end, my dad clinks his glass with his unused fork seeing as everyone has been eating with their hands as is the traditional way in Bangladesh to eat, and asks the head of the table to say a few words.
The family including myself, look down the table towards Dada expecting him to say something but before anything is done, Dadi interupts snidely giving me the most horrible glare, "But who is the head of the table? My husband the renowned politician and war hero or my nephew who has not been back for over 10 years?"
Everyone especially Dada, give Dadi an awkward stare for even having to make an issue of myself sitting at the other end of the table - but I suddenly realise what the issue is; inadvertently it seems I had challenged Dada's authority by taking the seat opposite at the table when I should have sat on one of the sides.
However, not to be outdone and made to feel more of a fool than Dadi had already tried to make me feel, I quickly remark, "Well Dadi, two heads - be they on top of a body or of a family - surely are better than one?"
There is silence initially and everyone looks at Dada for his response.
Thankfully, the big guy starts laughing which in turn leads to everyone else following suit...save for Dadi of course.
"I managed to diffuse the situation but how petty is that though - as if I had nothing better to do than to try and challenge Dada.
I love and respect him too much and besides, there would be nothing for me to gain in even doing so!" I mused angrily.
As Dada says a few words, thanking us all for being such great company so far and how proud mum would have been of all of us, particularly my sister and I, my sister can tell I'm a little miffed regarding Dadi's stupid comment so tries cheering me up.
"Nice answer bro, not just prepared for anything with that Magic Bag of yours but with what little brain you have too!" she pauses but I just give her a tight-lipped smile, "Oh c'mon, leave it...you know what mum used to say...when anyone says anything negative to you take it with a pinch of salt, but when it is Dadi, take it with a pound of salt!"
I smile slightly more as I decide she is right.
There were several reasons why mum really did not like Dadi but shit-stirring was numero uno!
Spying a sweet left over on Princess' plate I go on to choose cheering myself up even more by stealing it away before the restaurant staff do and it tastes delightful.
"Nothing like comfort eating!" I say to Tanny mouth half full as he laughs as subtley as possible so as to not interrupt Dada's little speech.
By the time I have rinsed down the remnants of the sweet with the last swig of my coke, I have completely missed what Dada has said save for "Right, we must get moving again" and find myself leading my end of the table up and out to our vehicle.
As we get on board and take our seats to continue on, Anik who is shutting the sliding door of our vehicle stops abruptly holding the door ajar halfway due to Goldie running towards us shouting at the top of his voice, "Wait...wait!"
Anik who is seated on the middle row in the passenger section and nearest the door, pulls it open and we all peer out, "I am bored sitting with the elders so am going to join all of you for the rest of the trip!" Goldie says.
I want to tell the guy to fuck off and wish I had something in my Magic Bag to make the loser disappear but Sajid, Anik and Princess are so excited with the prospect that I don't have the heart to do anything.
Instead as it is almost 730pm at this point, I decide the most strategic option is to pretend to be tired and try and sleep - no point in making a scene and engage the enemy!
However, there was no way I was going to sit next to him and as I move from the front row to swap seats with one of the cousins at the back, my sister follows.
I smirk as my sister rolls her eyes as we ask Sajid and Princess who are seated on the back row to move to the front to allow Goldie to have a seat with them seeing as they are smaller and slimmer and they move obligingly.
Tanny in the meantime having overheard what Goldie has said has simultaneously gotten out of his seat next to the driver to see if Goldie would rather sit there and thus give myself and my sister as much space as possible from the idiot.
However he is surprised to see us moving to the back as he peers in, and I shrug my shoulders at him and using my head, usher him to go back to his seat; "the cousins adored him so why upset them by putting their favourite uncle out of reach" is my reasoning as much as it pains me.
Neema and Anik remain seated in the middle row seeming totally oblivious to all the moving around but then again, there is no need for them to do anything so they just chat away as we too and fro around them.
As we set off Goldie is boisterously telling jokes and playing with Princess and Sajid who are seated either side of him and the more he laughs, the more irritated I am getting.
I can't seem to help it.
Luckily, I dig my hands into my Magic Bag and pull out some ear plugs and a blindfold as well, getting ready to shut him and the world out for the last leg of the journey but my sister sees my trinkets and pulls such a Bambi-esque face with her eyes all wide and bottom lip up-turned, I hand them over to her and she dozes off to sleep in an instant thanks to me!
As I look at her I grumble to myself, "Grrrr, soooo annoying!" with Goldie's maddening laughter rattling my eardrums more and more.
As Goldie is hitting Sajid over the head with the inflatable pillow I had given to Princess to use for her sleep earlier, he spots me looking over and out of the blue calls over to me, "Not sleeping baba?"
Anik and Neema turn to look at me over their shoulders as I look at them and back to Goldie, "Nah, thinking of home - wondering what my lovely wife is doing so might text her!"
"Yes, yes - go ahead...but won't she be at work now? Aren't they 6 hours behind us or something in England?" he informs me smugly.
"Yep, but doesn't mean she can't read a text!" I say in response.
Slightly irritated at my response, he continues,"Well, we all can't wait to meet her...although, before you bring her here, you will make sure she has become a Muslim first won't you? I mean we all know she is English so perhaps Christian and that your mother was very liberal minded but now that she is gone, surely you won't allow her to remain a Christian."
I am pretty sure Goldie is doing this purely to get a rise out of me so try and remain calm. However, to my surprise, Neema has gotten equally as annoyed.
"No. She isn't Muslim. Why? Is that a problem?" Neema asks having met my wife several times when she studied in England and being quite good Facebook buddies with her.
"Hmmm, that is not good you see. Maybe not in this life but in the afterlife it will mean she will burn in hell!" Goldie says to Neema with the most wicked grin.
"Is that meant to be funny coz it really is not!" I finally say angrily; Neema echoing my sentiments as well with a moan.
Tanny at this point is practically perched with his back to the windscreen staring at the back of Goldie's neck pulling the evillest look I've ever seen, whilst Sajid and Anik have both frozen in their seats.
"Why will she go to hell?" Princess asks.
Looking away from Neema and locking eyes with me, Goldie lovingly strokes Princess' cheek and actually has the audacity to say very seriously, "Hell is where all non-Muslims go little one as they are not pure enough for heaven!"
"What the fuck?!" I shout out.
How dare he go around inciting such stupid and ridiculous schools of thoughts in people's minds let alone someone as innocent as Princess but I don't have to say much more.
Always trying to be ready for anything with my Magic Bag, I am still taken by complete surprise as controversially Neema, Sajid and Anik break the norm of having to agree with whatever elders say and begin arguing a considerable amount with Goldie in the defence of their sister-in-law and non-Muslims of the world!
As sweat starts gathering on Goldie's forehead from having to take this bollocking from my cousins, I just look over at Tanny with genuine pride in my eyes that these cousins of mine who had no idea of what life was like beyond Bangladesh were so forward thinking that they knew instantly that what Goldie was spouting was pure, unadulterated bull shit!
Plus, they were willing to risk getting told off by their parents later for such unruly behaviour for my wife, a person they had not even met but whom they clearly loved all the same as she was the other half of my being.
Before Goldie has a chance to respond to yet another one of Neema's well founded queries as to what makes a Muslim more superior to another human being though, the driver's mobile goes off and answering for only a brief moment, he slams on the brakes and the car jolts to a halt, "Could everyone please hold on tight, I must turn around urgently!"
As the vehicle does a massive U-turn in the middle of the road, my heart starts beating faster - something was clearly not right and that was not in reference to the lack of brain cells Goldie had.
"What's wrong...what's happened?!" I shout across the cabin to the driver while at the same time, shaking my sister out of her slumber with one arm.
"There has been...an accident," he says hesitantly, "...try not to be alarmed but Dada's vehicle has been run off the road. It has crashed into a tree so we have been asked to hurry back there now!"
I start panicking, "Fuck Goldie and his stupid thoughts, dad was in that vehicle with Dada and Dadi and none of them with fucking seat belts!"
My priority now was to use every ounce of energy I had to hope and pray everyone involved in the accident was alright.
I had already lost my mum but to lose dad as well on this journey would probably destroy every little part of me that had started believing life could only get better.
As we drive like crazy towards the scene of the crash, we all sit in silence not knowing what to expect. I can see each of the cousins and even Goldie occasionally look at one another but no one knows what to say until Princess climbs up on to her seat and facing towards the back looks at me, "Don't worry - your bag is magic - I know you will be able to find something that will make everything better!"
I look into her bright and hopeful eyes and smiling weakly, clutch my Magic Bag tightly – I had prepared for most things but nothing like this – so I start praying.
If Allah was watching, what we needed right now was something a little less magic and more of a miracle to get us out of this disaster.
20100918
Chapter Twenty Three: A Brave New World
It's around 12pm by the time we are almost ready to head back to Dhaka.
The central ground of the cul-de-sac is a hive of activity with butlers and maids rushing around loading bags into all the vehicles making up our return convoy.
As mum is not travelling with us, I note with great sadness that the rickety ambulance we journeyed in together is missing.
I know why - we don't need one now - but it still hurts like a fucker!
Before I get too depressed though a huge slap hits my back, "SO! You can finally travel in style like the rest of us!"
I turn to look at Goldie and his shiny tooth peering out of his Cheshire cat grin and try my best not to say something inappropriate. My mind is repeatedly telling me to tell him what a fucking loser he is, how much he has...no, sorry, that should be is...hurting Princess' father and the family and on top of that, the potential devastation he has caused for the future of his nieces from whom he stole thousands of taka!
Instead I smile and speak up sarcastically, "Yep. Too bad I can't also look stylish like you with your gold tooth eh?"
"Haha...someday baba...someday!" he says slapping me on the back again, this time harder than the first jolting me forward.
I suddenly get the distinct impression that he's not just being a cocky twat but using this as an opportunity to get his own back on me having probably got fed up with me being so obviously hateful of everything he stood for since my arrival.
Before I say anything I regret my sister arrives as if out of the blue, having seen me from across the yard and the fowl expression I must be wearing on my face, "Yo bro, dad needs us!" and with that she tugs me away.
"Thanks. I was about to punch the twat!" I say as my sister says nothing but looks at me with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.
"So, does dad actually need us or what?"
As I say that my sister leads me around a corner into a room on the ground floor of the three storied building and Tanny is laughing away with Sajid and my other lanky cousin who's name had still managed to elude my attention as cousin Neema is sitting in another corner with little Princess on her lap looking at her jewellery and occasionally both the girls looking over at the boys and sighing at their silliness.
"Oh, hey guys! Wondered where all of you were!" I say.
"So, seeing as all the gang here are coming back to Dhaka I figured we should all travel together so we can have more of a laugh than having some old grump sitting with us...not that dad or Auntie Poppy fall in that category...often!" my sister says with a chuckle.
"Fine by me assuming the other billion cousins we've met since we've been here aren't coming!" I pipe up but my sister just laughs as Neema replies, "No brother, the rest - most of whom I don't even know by the way - live here!!! It'll just be us!"
I turn to look at Neema with Princess with her and with a little confusion in my voice ask why she is going to be coming with us then, bearing in mind the little lady was only 5 years old and as far as I knew both her parents - the legitimate ones that is, were not coming back with us.
"Because I'll be looking after her...she hardly gets to see her famous British cousins so I decided she should not miss out and neither should I" says Goldie as he walks in like John Wayne in one of those old Westerns.
And for a minute, the feeling I have continues that theme.
I get tense as I look him right in the eyes. Both of us moving our mouths as if we're chewing tobacco, fingers twitching and eyes narrowing as we're poised to go for our revolvers...the cousins scarpering off to hide but not too far so that they can see who wins and tumble weed rolling through the room with a bell ringing in the distance.
Total silence ensues and no one says anything.
"Right. And how do her parents feel about that Goldie?" I finally say with a slight sneer.
"She is practically my little girl so they let me do whatever I wish. Don't you worry about that."
I imagine pulling my gun out of holster and shooting the guy's gold tooth out of his mouth with the kind of skill Robin Hood had by firing an arrow to split another just to prove a point - that would be proof that I did not like him and encourage others not to pretend to, but before I say anything too venomous my sister steps into the void between us and snaps me back into reality.
"Yeah, Goldie told us that was the case and well, you know what uncle and auntie are like, as long as Princess is happy they are."
"Humph...fine by me then. I'm only a visitor anyway!" I say as I walk up to Princess and stroke her gorgeous thick black hair and then kiss her on the head.
Don't get me wrong in case it's coming across this way, I have absolutely no problem with Princess. In fact, she was one of mum's favorite nieces so how could I not love her...besides, in herself she was adorable. It was the fucking adults messing the world up for her.
Before anyone else manages to utter anything else though, one of the butlers rush round the corner, "Brother and sisters, the vehicles are ready for your departure but before setting off, everyone is gathering at Auntie's grave for one last prayer so if you could make your way over please."
"Stroke of luck to be honest as I was pretty close to blowing so the interruption was well timed to say the least" I think to myself as we all follow my sister out and head over to mum's resting place.
The entire family is gathered there including the plethora of cousins we had met and I would hazard a guess, most of the village are there too.
I also spy a lone camera man looming near the corner of the mosque with a reporter standing by with a not very subtle microphone in his hand ready to film us all and do his news reporter thing really. However, after the chaos of the day before during Bang-lastonbury, one stray reporter was a welcome sight indeed.
People make way for my sister, Tanny - who some still think is actually the British born son of Mrs Khan! - and I to make our way to the front to stand next to dad, Dada, Dadi and Auntie Neema.
I look around constantly for the mum’s messenger from the morning but the old man is nowhere to be seen and a part of me starts thinking maybe he was some spooky spirit guide but before I get too carried away with that crazy imagination of mine, I shake my head to get that ridiculous thought out of my mind.
“Coincidence my boy. Pure coincidence!” I mutter under my breath.
By the time we are at the front, to my surprise the ever reliable fly in every fucking ointment, Goldie has appeared at the front too. I resist making any snide comments like “mum would not want you here Goldie!” out of respect for mum and the rest of the family gathered as Dada asks Uncle Hasab to commence his prayer.
At first I am relieved that we did not have the rock and roll Molabhi from yesterday but that is until we start reaching 15 minutes of standing in the excruciating heat and having prayed for mum, us and the entirety of the world, Uncle Hasab starts praying for more ludicrous stuff as he sobs uncontrollably.
"...and lest I forget Allah, please let the roof of the community centre be completed. We are almost there but probably won't make the deadline of getting it finished before the end of summer. Oh, also, please allow the presents I sent to my brother's family over in Jamalpur day before yesterday reach them...Oh Allah..."
"Errr...is he for real?" Tanny whispers as I start snickering like mad as he does too.
I'm meant to be praying for mum and this is our way of saying goodbye once and for all and he's throwing in added extras like delivery of presents??! Unbelievable but in a way, so random it is hilarious.
Luckily our inappropriately timed behaviour in brought to a halt by my sister jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow a moment or two before the camera man has swung his lens in our direction.
Tanny and I bow our heads as quickly as we can as our shoulders continue shaking with hysterics but we hide this by both making sounds as though we are crying.
Shortly after, Uncle Hasab finishes his prayer and Dada and dad turn to address everyone - thanking them for their love, support and prayers during such a harrowing time for the family as a whole, let alone for the Khans - before asking the crowd to disperse and make way for the Dhaka contingent to get into their vehicles in readiness for the trek home.
Having regained some self-control again, I stop to glance at mum one last time as Tanny continues his migration with the crowd towards the parked vehicles.
My sister and dad join me.
"I think we should take a moment to say goodbye to your mummy without the rest of the show!" and with that dad walks up to mum with my sister and I in tow.
All three of us crouch down and putting our hands on mum's resting place we say nothing but close our eyes and cry.
Despite the heat, the earth is still soft and tender. I imagine the earth being replaced by mum lying there and my hand resting on her stomach as she sleeps, which is moving up and down as she breathes lightly.
My sister rests her head on my shoulder and dad says a quick prayer from us three to mum bringing his prayer to an end with "I will always love you shona" which means gold in English and it breaks my heart.
The Bangladeshi culture is so reserved that using nicknames for one another is usually a secret thing. Doesn't matter how sweet it is, you just don't call each other dear, darling, love so on and so on! Just "O-Go" is the most common especially for the generation mum and dad were from which means "hey-you"...not very romantic at all. And to reveal any public display of affection such as saying I love you or kissing or holding hands is a big no-no. So for dad to say that in front of us really sealed the deal.
This was it.
End of an era of my life...our lives together as a unit. We were going to be leaving mum behind and moving on with our lives without her in it.
And I knew, the world was a poorer place for it.
Not just our little three person world or even that of the extended family but every single person's life whom mum touched in one way or another - through her writings, her lectures and presentations, her charity work. And the lives of those she would never meet like my children.
I think about how lucky my nephews have been to have had some of the love and affection that mine shall never know and my crying builds into a crescendo of sobbing.
My sister and dad are surprised initially at how emotional I have gotten having kept myself in check as much as possible throughout the whole trip so far; both put their arms around me to hold me still as I practically start keeling over - my hands tightening into a fist, digging into the cool clay.
"We should go baba. We should go now." my dad says gently and I look up at him, eyes full of water but know he is right.
Nothing we did now would change what had happened. It was time to move on.
My dad and sister help me up as my knees wobble; I am a little perturbed myself at how bad I suddenly became in mere moments and look at dad and my sister grateful that I have them in my life to hold me up whenever I fall albeit mum was not there now.
As we slowly walk towards the vehicles I dry my eyes as we occasionally shake hands with extended family gathered to wave us off and promising us that mum was in safe hands and that they would look after her.
My sister spies the mound of clay I had gathered in my fist still there.
"Are you going to chuck that or what little bro?" she asks inquisitively.
I look at her confused at first and then in the direction of her eyes and without even knowing, have created a round ball in my palm from the earth I had clawed away.
With all the wrinkles, nooks and crannies, it almost looks like a miniature clay version of Earth itself.
"Ironic then that I was contemplating had much worse the world had become with mum gone yet here I was, holding the world in the palm of my hand." I think to myself.
"The world gifted to me by mum without me even noticing."
Out of nowhere I feel an enormous sensation of warmth and love overwhelm me as I have a flashback to times when mum used to stroke my head when things got bad and always told me the world had a way of falling into place even when things did not feel that way and I smile.
"I would sis and probably should, but this'll remind me that just cos the world is a poorer place without mum in it, being my mother's son, I'll find a way so that it doesn't have to remain like that."
My sister smiles back and putting her arm around my shoulder gives me a gentle hug and we look at each other once more before entering our vehicle.
As the engine revs into action and starts to drive away, we all cheer and wave out of the open windows of the vehicle to the folk surrounding us and as we do, I spot the old man standing over mum’s grave as we drive passed as we exit the cul-de-sac.
There is a part of me that wants to ask the driver to stop so I can speak to the guy but as if he has read my mind, the old man waves me on with that huge toothless smile of his and a knowing glint in his eyes: every story doesn't have a happy ending but this one still may, even if not today.
The central ground of the cul-de-sac is a hive of activity with butlers and maids rushing around loading bags into all the vehicles making up our return convoy.
As mum is not travelling with us, I note with great sadness that the rickety ambulance we journeyed in together is missing.
I know why - we don't need one now - but it still hurts like a fucker!
Before I get too depressed though a huge slap hits my back, "SO! You can finally travel in style like the rest of us!"
I turn to look at Goldie and his shiny tooth peering out of his Cheshire cat grin and try my best not to say something inappropriate. My mind is repeatedly telling me to tell him what a fucking loser he is, how much he has...no, sorry, that should be is...hurting Princess' father and the family and on top of that, the potential devastation he has caused for the future of his nieces from whom he stole thousands of taka!
Instead I smile and speak up sarcastically, "Yep. Too bad I can't also look stylish like you with your gold tooth eh?"
"Haha...someday baba...someday!" he says slapping me on the back again, this time harder than the first jolting me forward.
I suddenly get the distinct impression that he's not just being a cocky twat but using this as an opportunity to get his own back on me having probably got fed up with me being so obviously hateful of everything he stood for since my arrival.
Before I say anything I regret my sister arrives as if out of the blue, having seen me from across the yard and the fowl expression I must be wearing on my face, "Yo bro, dad needs us!" and with that she tugs me away.
"Thanks. I was about to punch the twat!" I say as my sister says nothing but looks at me with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.
"So, does dad actually need us or what?"
As I say that my sister leads me around a corner into a room on the ground floor of the three storied building and Tanny is laughing away with Sajid and my other lanky cousin who's name had still managed to elude my attention as cousin Neema is sitting in another corner with little Princess on her lap looking at her jewellery and occasionally both the girls looking over at the boys and sighing at their silliness.
"Oh, hey guys! Wondered where all of you were!" I say.
"So, seeing as all the gang here are coming back to Dhaka I figured we should all travel together so we can have more of a laugh than having some old grump sitting with us...not that dad or Auntie Poppy fall in that category...often!" my sister says with a chuckle.
"Fine by me assuming the other billion cousins we've met since we've been here aren't coming!" I pipe up but my sister just laughs as Neema replies, "No brother, the rest - most of whom I don't even know by the way - live here!!! It'll just be us!"
I turn to look at Neema with Princess with her and with a little confusion in my voice ask why she is going to be coming with us then, bearing in mind the little lady was only 5 years old and as far as I knew both her parents - the legitimate ones that is, were not coming back with us.
"Because I'll be looking after her...she hardly gets to see her famous British cousins so I decided she should not miss out and neither should I" says Goldie as he walks in like John Wayne in one of those old Westerns.
And for a minute, the feeling I have continues that theme.
I get tense as I look him right in the eyes. Both of us moving our mouths as if we're chewing tobacco, fingers twitching and eyes narrowing as we're poised to go for our revolvers...the cousins scarpering off to hide but not too far so that they can see who wins and tumble weed rolling through the room with a bell ringing in the distance.
Total silence ensues and no one says anything.
"Right. And how do her parents feel about that Goldie?" I finally say with a slight sneer.
"She is practically my little girl so they let me do whatever I wish. Don't you worry about that."
I imagine pulling my gun out of holster and shooting the guy's gold tooth out of his mouth with the kind of skill Robin Hood had by firing an arrow to split another just to prove a point - that would be proof that I did not like him and encourage others not to pretend to, but before I say anything too venomous my sister steps into the void between us and snaps me back into reality.
"Yeah, Goldie told us that was the case and well, you know what uncle and auntie are like, as long as Princess is happy they are."
"Humph...fine by me then. I'm only a visitor anyway!" I say as I walk up to Princess and stroke her gorgeous thick black hair and then kiss her on the head.
Don't get me wrong in case it's coming across this way, I have absolutely no problem with Princess. In fact, she was one of mum's favorite nieces so how could I not love her...besides, in herself she was adorable. It was the fucking adults messing the world up for her.
Before anyone else manages to utter anything else though, one of the butlers rush round the corner, "Brother and sisters, the vehicles are ready for your departure but before setting off, everyone is gathering at Auntie's grave for one last prayer so if you could make your way over please."
"Stroke of luck to be honest as I was pretty close to blowing so the interruption was well timed to say the least" I think to myself as we all follow my sister out and head over to mum's resting place.
The entire family is gathered there including the plethora of cousins we had met and I would hazard a guess, most of the village are there too.
I also spy a lone camera man looming near the corner of the mosque with a reporter standing by with a not very subtle microphone in his hand ready to film us all and do his news reporter thing really. However, after the chaos of the day before during Bang-lastonbury, one stray reporter was a welcome sight indeed.
People make way for my sister, Tanny - who some still think is actually the British born son of Mrs Khan! - and I to make our way to the front to stand next to dad, Dada, Dadi and Auntie Neema.
I look around constantly for the mum’s messenger from the morning but the old man is nowhere to be seen and a part of me starts thinking maybe he was some spooky spirit guide but before I get too carried away with that crazy imagination of mine, I shake my head to get that ridiculous thought out of my mind.
“Coincidence my boy. Pure coincidence!” I mutter under my breath.
By the time we are at the front, to my surprise the ever reliable fly in every fucking ointment, Goldie has appeared at the front too. I resist making any snide comments like “mum would not want you here Goldie!” out of respect for mum and the rest of the family gathered as Dada asks Uncle Hasab to commence his prayer.
At first I am relieved that we did not have the rock and roll Molabhi from yesterday but that is until we start reaching 15 minutes of standing in the excruciating heat and having prayed for mum, us and the entirety of the world, Uncle Hasab starts praying for more ludicrous stuff as he sobs uncontrollably.
"...and lest I forget Allah, please let the roof of the community centre be completed. We are almost there but probably won't make the deadline of getting it finished before the end of summer. Oh, also, please allow the presents I sent to my brother's family over in Jamalpur day before yesterday reach them...Oh Allah..."
"Errr...is he for real?" Tanny whispers as I start snickering like mad as he does too.
I'm meant to be praying for mum and this is our way of saying goodbye once and for all and he's throwing in added extras like delivery of presents??! Unbelievable but in a way, so random it is hilarious.
Luckily our inappropriately timed behaviour in brought to a halt by my sister jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow a moment or two before the camera man has swung his lens in our direction.
Tanny and I bow our heads as quickly as we can as our shoulders continue shaking with hysterics but we hide this by both making sounds as though we are crying.
Shortly after, Uncle Hasab finishes his prayer and Dada and dad turn to address everyone - thanking them for their love, support and prayers during such a harrowing time for the family as a whole, let alone for the Khans - before asking the crowd to disperse and make way for the Dhaka contingent to get into their vehicles in readiness for the trek home.
Having regained some self-control again, I stop to glance at mum one last time as Tanny continues his migration with the crowd towards the parked vehicles.
My sister and dad join me.
"I think we should take a moment to say goodbye to your mummy without the rest of the show!" and with that dad walks up to mum with my sister and I in tow.
All three of us crouch down and putting our hands on mum's resting place we say nothing but close our eyes and cry.
Despite the heat, the earth is still soft and tender. I imagine the earth being replaced by mum lying there and my hand resting on her stomach as she sleeps, which is moving up and down as she breathes lightly.
My sister rests her head on my shoulder and dad says a quick prayer from us three to mum bringing his prayer to an end with "I will always love you shona" which means gold in English and it breaks my heart.
The Bangladeshi culture is so reserved that using nicknames for one another is usually a secret thing. Doesn't matter how sweet it is, you just don't call each other dear, darling, love so on and so on! Just "O-Go" is the most common especially for the generation mum and dad were from which means "hey-you"...not very romantic at all. And to reveal any public display of affection such as saying I love you or kissing or holding hands is a big no-no. So for dad to say that in front of us really sealed the deal.
This was it.
End of an era of my life...our lives together as a unit. We were going to be leaving mum behind and moving on with our lives without her in it.
And I knew, the world was a poorer place for it.
Not just our little three person world or even that of the extended family but every single person's life whom mum touched in one way or another - through her writings, her lectures and presentations, her charity work. And the lives of those she would never meet like my children.
I think about how lucky my nephews have been to have had some of the love and affection that mine shall never know and my crying builds into a crescendo of sobbing.
My sister and dad are surprised initially at how emotional I have gotten having kept myself in check as much as possible throughout the whole trip so far; both put their arms around me to hold me still as I practically start keeling over - my hands tightening into a fist, digging into the cool clay.
"We should go baba. We should go now." my dad says gently and I look up at him, eyes full of water but know he is right.
Nothing we did now would change what had happened. It was time to move on.
My dad and sister help me up as my knees wobble; I am a little perturbed myself at how bad I suddenly became in mere moments and look at dad and my sister grateful that I have them in my life to hold me up whenever I fall albeit mum was not there now.
As we slowly walk towards the vehicles I dry my eyes as we occasionally shake hands with extended family gathered to wave us off and promising us that mum was in safe hands and that they would look after her.
My sister spies the mound of clay I had gathered in my fist still there.
"Are you going to chuck that or what little bro?" she asks inquisitively.
I look at her confused at first and then in the direction of her eyes and without even knowing, have created a round ball in my palm from the earth I had clawed away.
With all the wrinkles, nooks and crannies, it almost looks like a miniature clay version of Earth itself.
"Ironic then that I was contemplating had much worse the world had become with mum gone yet here I was, holding the world in the palm of my hand." I think to myself.
"The world gifted to me by mum without me even noticing."
Out of nowhere I feel an enormous sensation of warmth and love overwhelm me as I have a flashback to times when mum used to stroke my head when things got bad and always told me the world had a way of falling into place even when things did not feel that way and I smile.
"I would sis and probably should, but this'll remind me that just cos the world is a poorer place without mum in it, being my mother's son, I'll find a way so that it doesn't have to remain like that."
My sister smiles back and putting her arm around my shoulder gives me a gentle hug and we look at each other once more before entering our vehicle.
As the engine revs into action and starts to drive away, we all cheer and wave out of the open windows of the vehicle to the folk surrounding us and as we do, I spot the old man standing over mum’s grave as we drive passed as we exit the cul-de-sac.
There is a part of me that wants to ask the driver to stop so I can speak to the guy but as if he has read my mind, the old man waves me on with that huge toothless smile of his and a knowing glint in his eyes: every story doesn't have a happy ending but this one still may, even if not today.
20100913
Chapter Twenty Two: Lessons
It is almost 2am before Tanny drifts off to sleep to leave me trying desperately to follow him accordingly but almost 3 hours later, with me tossing and turning, I finally realise sleep was not going to be coming a knocking at this poor fool's door.
I decide to sneak out of the room before waking Tanny and go for a wander to take in some of the fresh air before we all have to make our way back to reality later that morning.
My mouth is still somewhat acidic in taste and nostrils still stinging from the chilli as I take a deep breath as I step outside, but that does not put me off the beauty of my surroundings.
The sun has begun to rise and all the vibrant colours of the trees and flowers are in full swing as I look around. It is a fabulous contrast - the greens and reds of the trees and leaves against the azure sky line and the dusty yellow of the ground.
In the distance I can hear a cockerel crowing and as I walk over to mum, wonder to myself with a smile as to whether the cockerel, which sounds the same to me, is in fact crowing in Bengali.
"What do you think mum?" I say as I peer over the fence where mum lay; the compact brown mound of soil sheathed with dew shimmering slightly in the sunlight.
"Hah! Of all the deep and meaningful conversations to have first thing, I never dreamt I'd be chatting to you about the linguistic abilities of cockerels!" I laugh but even I can't get away from the sadness in my voice.
No matter how ridiculous a topic or mediocre a subject, I would do anything to hear mum speak to me one last time, even if just to tell me how daft I was being, wearing a very serious look on her face yet her eyes revealing clearly that she was laughing inside.
I go completely silent as I picture mum and I having numerous chats over the years most of which were heated debates to say the least, over everything and anything and am saddened that I was so much so my mother's son that we never really did say sorry to each other, "...nor did we ever say I love you enough..." I reluctantly admit to myself as my smile fades away.
I swallow hard to keep the waterworks at bay and for once am grateful that I still have that sickly acidic taste in my mouth as it reminds me of the palaver from mere moments ago and overpowers my sadness making me laugh out loud.
"If you ever thought I was embarassing before mum, you should have seen me. Hmmmm, actually, scratch that! Youd've probably disowned me for vomiting through my nose especially since out of all the things that bugged you - vomiting was your pet hate!"
I laugh a bit more before I feel my lips beginning to clench and eyes narrow as I remember how ill mum was during her treatments. Bearing in mind her hatred of being sick, it was ironic that near the last months of her deteriorating health all mum could do was vomit.
Despite all sorts of medication and foods being tried and tested on her, the combination of the cancer, her diabetes and failing livers constantly forced everything she took in out of her with an evil force to be reckoned with.
I remember how ashamed she always looked when it happened and despite being so weak, how she never wanted anyone to help her be sick and clean her up except for dad, as she did not want anyone to know what she had done.
Tears initially work their way through those blasted ducts of mine thinking about the pain and agony mum endured and the cruel nature of the world in putting mum through that but slowly my blood bubbles with anger and unexpectedly I lash out at the fence standing between mum and I.
"You always used to say Allah does things for a reason and usually whatever he does is for the greater good, mum...well, where was the good in all that?! Where...WHERE!"
I am quickly reminded to behave more sombre though as an old man appears from within the mosque on the other side of the fence and comes out to pay his respects to mum having finished his morning prayers.
Shrivelled up and beyond recognition, he is wearing a pyjama/punjabi combo and a small prayer hat on his head exposing his forehead which is practically scarred right in the centre from having bowed down to Allah far more times than a blasphemer like me would care to think about.
There is a kindness in his eyes as he looks right at me and smiles a toothless smile as he mouths prayers and raises his hands up at me as if sending those blessings to me before waving his arms over mum.
I want to tell him there is no point - Allah had taken her away so what would blessings do...but I simply can't.
Perhaps because mum would have disapproved, or maybe perhaps whether I believed or not, it was lovely that this sweet old man, who having finished his prayers, had taken the time to do what he did.
I wasn't sure who he was although he looked familiar; maybe he didn't know either of us at all but here he was, blessing me and mum and praying mum now slept in peace.
I say nothing and merely nod at him and as he nods back.
I turn to look away from him, a little ashamed that I was having such pessimistic thoughts.
"I'm sorry for being the way I am mum." I mumble as I walk away waving half heartedly over my shoulder as I do.
"She forgives you young man. She prays you find your way in life and says she was happy with hers and still continues to be so let go of your anger and embrace your everlasting love for your family! Learn to forgive, learn to live, learn to love." the old guy says.
I freeze in my tracks and shudder as those words reach in through my ears and grab hold of my heart. Coincidence? Maybe but well timed nonetheless.
I close my eyes and look down at the ground as the pit of my stomach becomes heavy and each breath deeper than the last. I rub my chest to find some strength and then lift my head up and clench my fists as I turn back to face the mysterious old guy.
"How do you know? How do you know how she feels or that she forgives me...how do...you...?" but as bizarrely as he appeared, similarly he has disappeared.
Instinctively I run back to the fence and scout around mum to see if he is anywhere there and failing to see him, I race round to the front of the Mosque but equally cannot find him anywhere.
"Okaaayyyy...well, that's just downright creepy now!" as I walk back round into the cul-de-sac, "surely he wasn't some spooky messenger from God or something?" I rationalize as I decide to go for a walk over to the pond where I had met the stray dog the day before.
As I walk over I constantly turn to look in the direction of mum and her messenger hoping to see the old guy pop up from behind a tree and say something like, "Gotcha!" and then reveal he's Tanny or my sister in disguise but nothing.
I try and shake off the feelings I am having from the words the old man said and remind myself it was merely a fluke he said those words but its pretty damn hard to do so, and his words swirl around and around my mind.
As I reach the edge of the pond, I find myself hoping that away from the mosque, surely no other ghosts or ghouls or people in general would be around to bother me as I suddenly feel the urge to start mulling over what I have been going through these last few days - but I am wrong.
In the distance near the edge of the pond I spy Princess's father with no top on and merely a towel wrapped round him to cover his decency, slumped on a bamboo-weaved chair alone.
Clearly he has not slept either as is evident from his eyes which even from the distance I am, can clearly be seen to be swollen and bloodshot.
I contemplate whether I should go over, especially since I harbour little or no respect for the guy, but considering a stranger could find the time to try and take away mine and mum's woes using one or two blessings, I was not about to ignore my uncle.
I walk up to him to say hi but the only acknowledgement he gives me is a slight wave of his head; not even a nod.
I stand next to him for a bit, watching some ducks bob around the pond and the reeds rustle intermittently as I spot the stray dog hiding in them planning to take one of the carefree birds away for breakfast, but say nothing.
Princess's father finally turns to look up at me and merely says, "I miss your mother" but then seems distracted by something happening in the ramshackled building behind me.
"What is it?" I ask but he merely turns away to watch his version of the National Geographic so I turn to look in the direction he had previously and spot Goldie and Princess's mother watching us from the roof of building; they are holding hands at first but the moment they realise what they are doing and that I am staring at them, Goldie quickly shakes off Princess' mother's hand to wave at me.
"Ohmigod! Did he just wave at me? Wave at me!!?" I blurt out shocked and angry and realising this is the reason why Princess' father was probably out here - to give his brother and his lover some space.
"Horrible. Just horrible." I say as without even thinking, I find I am giving Princess' father a hug but once again he says nothing until the stray dog jumps out from behind the reeds to savagely attack one of the ducks and after much tussling, drags it away into the reeds again as the other ducks take flight in utter horror.
"That is life - you try to do what you can peacefully but there is always someone or something that plans to destroy everything."
I find myself tighten my hold on Princess' father and great sadness come over me trying to imagine the pain and suffering he has to face every single day knowing what he does yet trying to do best by his children, the family and even the community and am silent for what feels like ages until the words fall out, "You just need to learn to forgive, learn to live and as difficult as it may be, learn to love again uncle."
Princess' father says nothing but he tilts his head slightly and smiles however faintly at me and pats my arms that are draped around him, "Your mum would be proud of the man you have become...now, off with you. It's far too early for you to be making like a philosopher - you need some rest!"
I smile back at him and detach myself from his shoulders and begin walking back to the ramshackled house. As I do, I try to see if I can spot Goldie and Princess' mother again to give them a piece of my mind but thankfully I don't and bearing in mind I had just shared with someone my lesson as taught to me by my mysterious messenger, perhaps that is a good thing!
Instead I find myself sneak back into mine and Tanny's room and grab my mobile and tiptoeing into the en suite, I surprise myself by dialling home...my wife answers.
"I've left God knows how many messages but you've not replied. I was getting so worried!" she says, her voice crackling with a little fear and quite a lot of sadness.
"Trust me - the only messages I needed to get have been received loud and clear my love," I chuckle slightly but the joke is obviously lost but I continue to the most important point,"...anyway, that's a story for another time. All I wanted to tell you was, well...I love you...with all my heart and can't wait to come home and continue to live our life together."
There is silence at first but then she starts to cry, "I love you too."
At that I breathe a sigh of a little bit of relief but more so of feeling some of that uncontrollable anger I have been harbouring lift away and very quickly we start giggling and chatting away like teenagers flirting over the phone for the first time.
"...Anyway, forget about love, let's talk puking...from the nose no less!!!..." and it isn't long until we are in utter hysterics and life finally feels like it will come back on track!
I decide to sneak out of the room before waking Tanny and go for a wander to take in some of the fresh air before we all have to make our way back to reality later that morning.
My mouth is still somewhat acidic in taste and nostrils still stinging from the chilli as I take a deep breath as I step outside, but that does not put me off the beauty of my surroundings.
The sun has begun to rise and all the vibrant colours of the trees and flowers are in full swing as I look around. It is a fabulous contrast - the greens and reds of the trees and leaves against the azure sky line and the dusty yellow of the ground.
In the distance I can hear a cockerel crowing and as I walk over to mum, wonder to myself with a smile as to whether the cockerel, which sounds the same to me, is in fact crowing in Bengali.
"What do you think mum?" I say as I peer over the fence where mum lay; the compact brown mound of soil sheathed with dew shimmering slightly in the sunlight.
"Hah! Of all the deep and meaningful conversations to have first thing, I never dreamt I'd be chatting to you about the linguistic abilities of cockerels!" I laugh but even I can't get away from the sadness in my voice.
No matter how ridiculous a topic or mediocre a subject, I would do anything to hear mum speak to me one last time, even if just to tell me how daft I was being, wearing a very serious look on her face yet her eyes revealing clearly that she was laughing inside.
I go completely silent as I picture mum and I having numerous chats over the years most of which were heated debates to say the least, over everything and anything and am saddened that I was so much so my mother's son that we never really did say sorry to each other, "...nor did we ever say I love you enough..." I reluctantly admit to myself as my smile fades away.
I swallow hard to keep the waterworks at bay and for once am grateful that I still have that sickly acidic taste in my mouth as it reminds me of the palaver from mere moments ago and overpowers my sadness making me laugh out loud.
"If you ever thought I was embarassing before mum, you should have seen me. Hmmmm, actually, scratch that! Youd've probably disowned me for vomiting through my nose especially since out of all the things that bugged you - vomiting was your pet hate!"
I laugh a bit more before I feel my lips beginning to clench and eyes narrow as I remember how ill mum was during her treatments. Bearing in mind her hatred of being sick, it was ironic that near the last months of her deteriorating health all mum could do was vomit.
Despite all sorts of medication and foods being tried and tested on her, the combination of the cancer, her diabetes and failing livers constantly forced everything she took in out of her with an evil force to be reckoned with.
I remember how ashamed she always looked when it happened and despite being so weak, how she never wanted anyone to help her be sick and clean her up except for dad, as she did not want anyone to know what she had done.
Tears initially work their way through those blasted ducts of mine thinking about the pain and agony mum endured and the cruel nature of the world in putting mum through that but slowly my blood bubbles with anger and unexpectedly I lash out at the fence standing between mum and I.
"You always used to say Allah does things for a reason and usually whatever he does is for the greater good, mum...well, where was the good in all that?! Where...WHERE!"
I am quickly reminded to behave more sombre though as an old man appears from within the mosque on the other side of the fence and comes out to pay his respects to mum having finished his morning prayers.
Shrivelled up and beyond recognition, he is wearing a pyjama/punjabi combo and a small prayer hat on his head exposing his forehead which is practically scarred right in the centre from having bowed down to Allah far more times than a blasphemer like me would care to think about.
There is a kindness in his eyes as he looks right at me and smiles a toothless smile as he mouths prayers and raises his hands up at me as if sending those blessings to me before waving his arms over mum.
I want to tell him there is no point - Allah had taken her away so what would blessings do...but I simply can't.
Perhaps because mum would have disapproved, or maybe perhaps whether I believed or not, it was lovely that this sweet old man, who having finished his prayers, had taken the time to do what he did.
I wasn't sure who he was although he looked familiar; maybe he didn't know either of us at all but here he was, blessing me and mum and praying mum now slept in peace.
I say nothing and merely nod at him and as he nods back.
I turn to look away from him, a little ashamed that I was having such pessimistic thoughts.
"I'm sorry for being the way I am mum." I mumble as I walk away waving half heartedly over my shoulder as I do.
"She forgives you young man. She prays you find your way in life and says she was happy with hers and still continues to be so let go of your anger and embrace your everlasting love for your family! Learn to forgive, learn to live, learn to love." the old guy says.
I freeze in my tracks and shudder as those words reach in through my ears and grab hold of my heart. Coincidence? Maybe but well timed nonetheless.
I close my eyes and look down at the ground as the pit of my stomach becomes heavy and each breath deeper than the last. I rub my chest to find some strength and then lift my head up and clench my fists as I turn back to face the mysterious old guy.
"How do you know? How do you know how she feels or that she forgives me...how do...you...?" but as bizarrely as he appeared, similarly he has disappeared.
Instinctively I run back to the fence and scout around mum to see if he is anywhere there and failing to see him, I race round to the front of the Mosque but equally cannot find him anywhere.
"Okaaayyyy...well, that's just downright creepy now!" as I walk back round into the cul-de-sac, "surely he wasn't some spooky messenger from God or something?" I rationalize as I decide to go for a walk over to the pond where I had met the stray dog the day before.
As I walk over I constantly turn to look in the direction of mum and her messenger hoping to see the old guy pop up from behind a tree and say something like, "Gotcha!" and then reveal he's Tanny or my sister in disguise but nothing.
I try and shake off the feelings I am having from the words the old man said and remind myself it was merely a fluke he said those words but its pretty damn hard to do so, and his words swirl around and around my mind.
As I reach the edge of the pond, I find myself hoping that away from the mosque, surely no other ghosts or ghouls or people in general would be around to bother me as I suddenly feel the urge to start mulling over what I have been going through these last few days - but I am wrong.
In the distance near the edge of the pond I spy Princess's father with no top on and merely a towel wrapped round him to cover his decency, slumped on a bamboo-weaved chair alone.
Clearly he has not slept either as is evident from his eyes which even from the distance I am, can clearly be seen to be swollen and bloodshot.
I contemplate whether I should go over, especially since I harbour little or no respect for the guy, but considering a stranger could find the time to try and take away mine and mum's woes using one or two blessings, I was not about to ignore my uncle.
I walk up to him to say hi but the only acknowledgement he gives me is a slight wave of his head; not even a nod.
I stand next to him for a bit, watching some ducks bob around the pond and the reeds rustle intermittently as I spot the stray dog hiding in them planning to take one of the carefree birds away for breakfast, but say nothing.
Princess's father finally turns to look up at me and merely says, "I miss your mother" but then seems distracted by something happening in the ramshackled building behind me.
"What is it?" I ask but he merely turns away to watch his version of the National Geographic so I turn to look in the direction he had previously and spot Goldie and Princess's mother watching us from the roof of building; they are holding hands at first but the moment they realise what they are doing and that I am staring at them, Goldie quickly shakes off Princess' mother's hand to wave at me.
"Ohmigod! Did he just wave at me? Wave at me!!?" I blurt out shocked and angry and realising this is the reason why Princess' father was probably out here - to give his brother and his lover some space.
"Horrible. Just horrible." I say as without even thinking, I find I am giving Princess' father a hug but once again he says nothing until the stray dog jumps out from behind the reeds to savagely attack one of the ducks and after much tussling, drags it away into the reeds again as the other ducks take flight in utter horror.
"That is life - you try to do what you can peacefully but there is always someone or something that plans to destroy everything."
I find myself tighten my hold on Princess' father and great sadness come over me trying to imagine the pain and suffering he has to face every single day knowing what he does yet trying to do best by his children, the family and even the community and am silent for what feels like ages until the words fall out, "You just need to learn to forgive, learn to live and as difficult as it may be, learn to love again uncle."
Princess' father says nothing but he tilts his head slightly and smiles however faintly at me and pats my arms that are draped around him, "Your mum would be proud of the man you have become...now, off with you. It's far too early for you to be making like a philosopher - you need some rest!"
I smile back at him and detach myself from his shoulders and begin walking back to the ramshackled house. As I do, I try to see if I can spot Goldie and Princess' mother again to give them a piece of my mind but thankfully I don't and bearing in mind I had just shared with someone my lesson as taught to me by my mysterious messenger, perhaps that is a good thing!
Instead I find myself sneak back into mine and Tanny's room and grab my mobile and tiptoeing into the en suite, I surprise myself by dialling home...my wife answers.
"I've left God knows how many messages but you've not replied. I was getting so worried!" she says, her voice crackling with a little fear and quite a lot of sadness.
"Trust me - the only messages I needed to get have been received loud and clear my love," I chuckle slightly but the joke is obviously lost but I continue to the most important point,"...anyway, that's a story for another time. All I wanted to tell you was, well...I love you...with all my heart and can't wait to come home and continue to live our life together."
There is silence at first but then she starts to cry, "I love you too."
At that I breathe a sigh of a little bit of relief but more so of feeling some of that uncontrollable anger I have been harbouring lift away and very quickly we start giggling and chatting away like teenagers flirting over the phone for the first time.
"...Anyway, forget about love, let's talk puking...from the nose no less!!!..." and it isn't long until we are in utter hysterics and life finally feels like it will come back on track!
20100816
Chapter Twenty One: Goats' Heads & Gorom Peth
Wandering into our room, I spy Tanny lounging around in a scruffy black t-shirt and ripped jeans on our double bed, hair soaking wet which is the only real indication he has even had a wash!
Smirking as I waltz in I jeer at him,"Jeeez dude, have you actually put soap on or what? Bearing in mind your time management totally sucks and you're never on time for anything, what the fuck?! You're ready?!!!"
I can tell from the look on Tanny's face that he is not sure how to react initially - should he ask me how things were in the world of Khan or just run with how I was behaving now - and he goes for the latter clearly assuming if I wanted to talk about things I would in my own time, "Yeah well, when Auntie Poppy told me food was a'comin, let's just say I said goodbye to frivolities such as soap - nothing gets in the way of the Tanster and food....glorious foooooooodddd!!!Hahahahahaha!" Tanny says in a triumphant voice laughing mockingly like a mad man.
I chuckle slightly and then grabbing a shirt and some jeans from my seriously over-sized wheelie bag, I dash into the bathroom with a towel.
More akin to a wet room than bathroom, the perfectly rectangular shaped room has a sink at one side with the toilet neighbouring it and a mirror hanging above the sink; the shower stands on its lonesome on the other side.
There is little more than a small grove running along the bottom of the floor to a small hole in the wall to allow the running water to spill out, that divides the two halves and I lean across this threshold and turn on the shower to allow the naturally sun-boiled water to simmer slightly before I am completely scolded.
I put my clothes on the towel rail and walk over to the mirror and staring at my reflection, slowly undo the buttons of my punjabi and pull it up and over my head.
I hold it initially, pulling it tightly between my hands which inexplicably become tense but before any tears emerge, I fold it away gently and hang it onto the rail.
Similarly, I take off my pyjamas too and lightly stroke the streaks of mud along the legs and in particular the knees before doing the same with these and placing next to their brethren punjabi.
I pause slightly and then jumping in and out of the shower almost as quick as I am sure Tanny did, throw on my shirt and jeans and gently folding my cotton white and brown stained pyjama-punjabi, carry those over to my bag to replace the empty space left from removing the clothes I now had on; the towel I had used to dry myself thrown over my shoulders before landing as a heap on the floor next to the bag.
As I bend to pick it up, my lanky cousin Sajid knocks and enters the room, initially clearly wondering why I had my arse in the air with Tanny lying porn-esquely on the bed but quickly coughing he announces almost regally, "Dinner has been served, brothers - follow me and I'll show you to the dining room where the elders await".
Looking at each other, Tanny and I smirk to each other as we can see the thoughts Sajid is having written all over his face, so as we follow Sajid out just to wind the little guy up, I slap Tanny on the arse and he giggles intentionally like a camp guy and shrieks, "OOoo, Sailor!"...at this, Sajid practically darts ten steps ahead spotting this from the corner of his eyes but saying nothing although he coughs again.
As he marches on I quickly catch up with him as we all walk towards the white building and work our way up to the third floor where we had been having breakfast earlier that day and dad and my sister are already seated at the table with Dada, Dadi, Auntie Poppy and Neema.
There are two seats left, clearly for myself and Tanny but before going over, I whisper in Sajid's ear "We're only messing around with your head dude!!! Tanny has long hair but trust me, I prefer my women to be taller, sexier and well...actual women!"
Sajid laughs and trying to cover up his embarrassment of thinking we were gay, makes out that he realised that all along!
"Yeah right dude..." Tanny retorts whilst jokingly stroking his chin and winking, "...not that there's anything wrong with that though!" he says looking Sajid up and down as Sajid and I laugh out loud.
Still smirking as Sajid leaves us to it, Tanny and I head towards our places and as I take my seat, I spot Goldie sulking around in the corner of the room.
Not having been given a seat at the table, he is clearly miffed but at the same time, not wanting to leave in case he misses any gossip or much needed information to probably use to blackmail someone when he plans his next misplaced and poorly judged money-making scam.
I can't help but glare at him as I take my seat,"God - I soooo hate that fucking tosser!" but before anyone notices, I break away from my trance as Dadi announces that in honour of our arrival in the village she has arranged for a whole goat to be prepared and curried for us to enjoy with some amazing chicken biryani, which is a very tasty although VERY calorific oily fried rice with grilled chicken, to celebrate the occasion.
A part of me can't help but flinch at her saying she wanted to celebrate the occasion but I reign myself in as I see a large picture of my gorgeous cousin Asif hung on the wall behind her and remind myself that as vindictive as I might think she is, this was still a mother who had outlived her son so there was no way she meant anything as an insult to my now dearly departed mum.
"A whole goat did you say?" my sister asks looking a bit concerned that when the curry arrives it will contain floating eyeballs and minced goat testicles but Goldie laughs and interjects, "Not to worry, it is not every bit of the goat - merely the tastiest parts."
I lean over and whisper in Tanny's ear whilst he is taking a sip of water out of his glass, "that'll be the cock for him then?" and Tanny practically chokes on the water as he turns to look at me quite shocked and I quickly divert attention from what had been said by patting Tanny on the back and speaking to Dadi.
"Ahem! Sorry about that!...So the tastiest parts?," I say as Tanny settles down, “Does that include the head? I've never had the head as they say it is saved for the most important person of the occasion!"
"Yes - yes it does. And today, your Dada and dad have said it is to go to..." Dadi stops and waves her chubby finger around the room and finally finishes up pointing at me to my surprise,"YOU!"
Everyone chuckles at the table as do the maids and butlers scurrying around filling up our glasses and bringing the massive tray of biryani and pot of goat's curry to each of us and serving massive dollops of each on our plates.
Have to hand it to them, the food really is mouth wateringly good but then again, with the events of the last few days, I had not spotted the fact that I had hardly eaten much until now. I was starving to say the least.
Munching away and clearing almost 4 plates full to everyone's amazement save for my dad and sister who know what a glutton I usually am, Dadi claps her hands and asks the head chef to come through with the goat's head for me.
As if by magic, it arrives - literally a head on a silver platter covered in oily yet magnificent curry sauce.
I mischievously imagine the head arriving being that of Goldie's rather than a poor goat and snicker to myself evilly as the great big thing lands on my plate.
"OOOOfff - baba, you have had 4 plates full. Be careful and it is hot anyway, hotter than we are used to, and the food albeit delicious is extremely rich and oily - you may get Gorom Peth at night!" dad pipes up just as I am going to dig into the meaty skull.
"Gorom Peth? You mean, heated stomach? Naaah - Memo to dad: Gorom Peth is just a myth! Repeat: Gorom Peth is JUST a myth! That's only one of those things people say but I've never known happen" I say chuckling before chomping on every delicious morsel I can find as dad merely sighs heavily in disbelief especially when I take a bite out of the brain which I get the head chef to get out for me from within the skull having sawed it open.
"Who needs a Gorom Peth man, I'm going to be sick as is!" says my sister looking pale as she watches me make like a savage and tear the head apart but there's no stopping me, having not eaten for so long this was bliss!
Finally about 2 hours later, we are all finally done and the servants are clearing everything away...ok, so the reality is it was less so we and more so I in that tradition being as they were, everyone had to wait for almost an hour more than planned despite having finished their food until I was done! And making them wait was well worth it for (a) being able to eat such ridiculous amounts of glorious food and (b) watching my sister becoming ever more and more green as she watched me devour the skull.
"Little brothers - who'd have them? Not I...pity about my sister!" I say to Tanny as we laugh like we're back in secondary school again having practically made my sister ill from my gross brain eating at the table as we walk back to our room having said good night to the family much to their surprise.
Being only 11pm it isn't that late considering traditionally, Bangladeshi people eat at 10pm and don't contemplate sleep until about 1am be they adults or children, but I felt an early night for a change was much needed considering I have had little or no sleep to speak of since mum's passing.
Besides, I wanted to take a bit of time to absorb the atmosphere of nightfall in mum's little village - take in the sounds of the crickets click-clicking away and hear the small house lizards called Tik-tikkies making their distinctive sounds to rival that of the crickets.
It is also hard to miss the serene sounds of the swishing palm trees and rustling of the reeds in the nearby paddy fields swaying over the incredibly warm breeze blowing through the village.
All of these framed by a perfectly black sky scattered with diamonds sparkling down upon us made me realise that the whole journey was worth it, “Hopefully one of these stars looking down is you mum" I whisper as I look up into the sky as Tanny oblivious to my plight, still chuckles away about my sister.
Suddenly, I break away from Tanny and head over to mum to see how she is.
The hole now filled and mound of soil standing up high and proud - I lean over the fence and smile to myself; thinking about how shocked she'd have been if she were here watching me eat as much as I had not to mention goat's brains!
"A part of you would probably have been chuffed that I was given the honour though I'm sure mum!" I say trying to reassure myself that mum wouldn't have felt equally as nauseous as my sister at my efforts.
"Dude, shall I wait for ya or should I let you chat with Auntie?" Tanny calls over as I simultaneously about turn to face him, "No that's cool man - time to turn in!" I say and we continue on into our room.
Whilst the door to the main house is still open to allow the air to flow through, the door to our room is closed shut and knowing what to expect, Tanny and I apprehensively open the door.
Heat pours out of the room like a sauna and we quickly pounce towards the light switches where the switch for the ceiling fan also lies.
As it whirs into action, Tanny and I both pull the collars of our t-shirts away from our necks to allow the air to blow in and sigh in relief as the luke-warm air refreshes us however mildly.
"Man, even with the fan on the room's gonna be boiling!" says Tanny clearly stating the obvious, but not to be put off I reassure him that we'd feel more than comfortable once the fan had done its thing and we had fallen asleep in any event.
And with that we tuck in which is no easy feet - having to manoeuvre our way under the mosquito net hanging over our bed with the precision and speed of cat burglars so as to not allow a kamikaze mossie make their way into the confines of our bed - lifting the net slightly and then in true Indiana Jones style, jumping through the gap and holding the net down before lifting it up again as Tanny leaps in!
All very dramatic which would have been so much better in slow-motion and the famous Indiana Jones theme tune playing but alas, life was not a movie...to my disappointment!
I still laugh though with the thought of the drama especially when Tanny leaps in and lands with such a clunk on the bed, we look at each other suspecting he has broken something of the bed but decide we would play ignorant come tomorrow.
"Night dude...keep that tummy cool til tomorrow before the dastardly Gorom Peth nabs ya!" Tanny jokes as he turns to put his back in my direction and drifts off in what feels like a millisecond.
"All right for some," I wonder raising my eyebrows and wrinkling my forehead as Tanny starts snoring, "well, sure I can do that too given the chance" and with that I close my eyes and focus on drifting off...
...but I can't!
In fact after trying for what feels like almost an hour, my stomach feels bloated and what I can only describe as a bubbling sensation starts happening within.
"What the fuck?!"
I have no idea what is going on but whatever it was, could not be normal. I decide to lie still trying not to wake Tanny and more importantly, thinking calm thoughts will be a good way to overcome this weird sensation.
How wrong could I be.
The bubbling sensation seems to get more and more intense and despite the fan rotating at its maximum speed, blowing hot air continually round the room and me was not helping one iota.
I can feel all the oily, greasy biryani and curry, specifically the creamy brains of the goat, trying to work their way up from the pit of my stomach towards my mouth and suddenly I come to realise what I am experiencing is the dreaded Gorom Peth - the food is so rich that the heat externally is practically making the food cook itself inside and bubble up..."and here I always thought that was just bull to stop gluttons like me from over-indulging."
Initially I still try to lie still hoping the wave of nausea will pass, repeatedly cursing myself for eating so much but worse, taking childish delight out of making my sister feel sick from me gorging on the remains of the goat - "Karma. GOD! I sooooo hate karma!" I moan as my breathing gets heavier trying to suck air in to keep my food down.
It isn't long though before I realise the battle is futile and despite my concerns of waking Tanny up, I needed to bolt to the bathroom ASAP or else forget waking Tanny up with just loud noises and movement, I'd wake him up probably with a pile of sick drowning his legs.
I look around and I cannot exit through any other point bar Tanny's side anyway. Both headboards to the bed are at least 2 foot high to add to the dramatic stylings of the bed and on my side of the bed, was the wall next to which the bed had been crammed towards so I have no other option than to make a jump for it and over Tanny I go.
Desperately pushing the mosquito net whilst arched over Tanny, from underneath the mattress where we had pushed the ends into to stop any mossies flying in later, I struggle to get any of it out for me to get through because of Tanny's dead weight making it difficult.
"Dude - you need to wake up!" I say swallowing hard and my breath still feeling heavy to keep the food down.
"Eh?" sleeping beauty says as he awakens far too slowly for my liking from his slumber.
"I said, you need to wake up man and get outta my fucking way!" I shriek, Tanny practically jumping out of his skull totally startled, but it has the desired effect and I manage to pull out the net from under the mattress and run for it.
I am not quick enough though and this is clearly becoming evident as sick begins working its way up and into my mouth.
I can taste every bit of the biryani and curry I had eaten but the exquisite flavours are ruined due to the presence of huge amounts of acidic stomach fluids in the mix - unlike when I ate it - the taste is far from pleasurable.
I can see the door to the bathroom right in front of me and know given just a moment more, I can make it to the sink and so I gallantly cover my mouth with my hands hoping to stop any embarrassment of having to have one of the staff clean up my mess and know what I had done and for a moment, the food bubbles and swirls around my mouth but remains contained...until it explodes upwards within my mouth, into my nose and spurting out of my nostrils like foam out of a fire hydrant, missing the sink entirely!
Shocked. Embarrassed. Horrified. In absolute fits of hysterics.
These are the only words I can say to explain how I feel once the food has finally left the proverbially "building" and onto the bathroom floor as I half-heartedly run the tap to rinse my mouth out and then throw some water on the floor to wash away the evidence.
I feel truly shite not to mention my nostrils are stinging like a fucker from all the chilli in the curry, but I cannot help but continue laughing hysterically as Tanny walks in after me, having turned the lights on literally as I ejected some goat brains through my nose so bearing witness to my nasal trajectory!
"Now that's something you don't see every day! Man...that would have been awesome on You Tube!" he jokes as he pats me on the back as I hang off the sink, “Seriously though, you okay?"
My forehead is lying flat on the cool ceramic edge of the sink and my breathing is still heavy despite most of the food having long gone, eyes peering towards the ground but Tanny can tell I am laughing at his comment from the shaking of my shoulders.
Catching my breath, I look up over my shoulder at Tanny - "Yeah man, I could be better but I'm fine..." I pause to take another breath and then laugh, "Memo to dad: Gorom Peth is NOT a myth. Repeat: Gorom Peth is NOT a myth!"
And with that we both burst out laughing.
Smirking as I waltz in I jeer at him,"Jeeez dude, have you actually put soap on or what? Bearing in mind your time management totally sucks and you're never on time for anything, what the fuck?! You're ready?!!!"
I can tell from the look on Tanny's face that he is not sure how to react initially - should he ask me how things were in the world of Khan or just run with how I was behaving now - and he goes for the latter clearly assuming if I wanted to talk about things I would in my own time, "Yeah well, when Auntie Poppy told me food was a'comin, let's just say I said goodbye to frivolities such as soap - nothing gets in the way of the Tanster and food....glorious foooooooodddd!!!Hahahahahaha!" Tanny says in a triumphant voice laughing mockingly like a mad man.
I chuckle slightly and then grabbing a shirt and some jeans from my seriously over-sized wheelie bag, I dash into the bathroom with a towel.
More akin to a wet room than bathroom, the perfectly rectangular shaped room has a sink at one side with the toilet neighbouring it and a mirror hanging above the sink; the shower stands on its lonesome on the other side.
There is little more than a small grove running along the bottom of the floor to a small hole in the wall to allow the running water to spill out, that divides the two halves and I lean across this threshold and turn on the shower to allow the naturally sun-boiled water to simmer slightly before I am completely scolded.
I put my clothes on the towel rail and walk over to the mirror and staring at my reflection, slowly undo the buttons of my punjabi and pull it up and over my head.
I hold it initially, pulling it tightly between my hands which inexplicably become tense but before any tears emerge, I fold it away gently and hang it onto the rail.
Similarly, I take off my pyjamas too and lightly stroke the streaks of mud along the legs and in particular the knees before doing the same with these and placing next to their brethren punjabi.
I pause slightly and then jumping in and out of the shower almost as quick as I am sure Tanny did, throw on my shirt and jeans and gently folding my cotton white and brown stained pyjama-punjabi, carry those over to my bag to replace the empty space left from removing the clothes I now had on; the towel I had used to dry myself thrown over my shoulders before landing as a heap on the floor next to the bag.
As I bend to pick it up, my lanky cousin Sajid knocks and enters the room, initially clearly wondering why I had my arse in the air with Tanny lying porn-esquely on the bed but quickly coughing he announces almost regally, "Dinner has been served, brothers - follow me and I'll show you to the dining room where the elders await".
Looking at each other, Tanny and I smirk to each other as we can see the thoughts Sajid is having written all over his face, so as we follow Sajid out just to wind the little guy up, I slap Tanny on the arse and he giggles intentionally like a camp guy and shrieks, "OOoo, Sailor!"...at this, Sajid practically darts ten steps ahead spotting this from the corner of his eyes but saying nothing although he coughs again.
As he marches on I quickly catch up with him as we all walk towards the white building and work our way up to the third floor where we had been having breakfast earlier that day and dad and my sister are already seated at the table with Dada, Dadi, Auntie Poppy and Neema.
There are two seats left, clearly for myself and Tanny but before going over, I whisper in Sajid's ear "We're only messing around with your head dude!!! Tanny has long hair but trust me, I prefer my women to be taller, sexier and well...actual women!"
Sajid laughs and trying to cover up his embarrassment of thinking we were gay, makes out that he realised that all along!
"Yeah right dude..." Tanny retorts whilst jokingly stroking his chin and winking, "...not that there's anything wrong with that though!" he says looking Sajid up and down as Sajid and I laugh out loud.
Still smirking as Sajid leaves us to it, Tanny and I head towards our places and as I take my seat, I spot Goldie sulking around in the corner of the room.
Not having been given a seat at the table, he is clearly miffed but at the same time, not wanting to leave in case he misses any gossip or much needed information to probably use to blackmail someone when he plans his next misplaced and poorly judged money-making scam.
I can't help but glare at him as I take my seat,"God - I soooo hate that fucking tosser!" but before anyone notices, I break away from my trance as Dadi announces that in honour of our arrival in the village she has arranged for a whole goat to be prepared and curried for us to enjoy with some amazing chicken biryani, which is a very tasty although VERY calorific oily fried rice with grilled chicken, to celebrate the occasion.
A part of me can't help but flinch at her saying she wanted to celebrate the occasion but I reign myself in as I see a large picture of my gorgeous cousin Asif hung on the wall behind her and remind myself that as vindictive as I might think she is, this was still a mother who had outlived her son so there was no way she meant anything as an insult to my now dearly departed mum.
"A whole goat did you say?" my sister asks looking a bit concerned that when the curry arrives it will contain floating eyeballs and minced goat testicles but Goldie laughs and interjects, "Not to worry, it is not every bit of the goat - merely the tastiest parts."
I lean over and whisper in Tanny's ear whilst he is taking a sip of water out of his glass, "that'll be the cock for him then?" and Tanny practically chokes on the water as he turns to look at me quite shocked and I quickly divert attention from what had been said by patting Tanny on the back and speaking to Dadi.
"Ahem! Sorry about that!...So the tastiest parts?," I say as Tanny settles down, “Does that include the head? I've never had the head as they say it is saved for the most important person of the occasion!"
"Yes - yes it does. And today, your Dada and dad have said it is to go to..." Dadi stops and waves her chubby finger around the room and finally finishes up pointing at me to my surprise,"YOU!"
Everyone chuckles at the table as do the maids and butlers scurrying around filling up our glasses and bringing the massive tray of biryani and pot of goat's curry to each of us and serving massive dollops of each on our plates.
Have to hand it to them, the food really is mouth wateringly good but then again, with the events of the last few days, I had not spotted the fact that I had hardly eaten much until now. I was starving to say the least.
Munching away and clearing almost 4 plates full to everyone's amazement save for my dad and sister who know what a glutton I usually am, Dadi claps her hands and asks the head chef to come through with the goat's head for me.
As if by magic, it arrives - literally a head on a silver platter covered in oily yet magnificent curry sauce.
I mischievously imagine the head arriving being that of Goldie's rather than a poor goat and snicker to myself evilly as the great big thing lands on my plate.
"OOOOfff - baba, you have had 4 plates full. Be careful and it is hot anyway, hotter than we are used to, and the food albeit delicious is extremely rich and oily - you may get Gorom Peth at night!" dad pipes up just as I am going to dig into the meaty skull.
"Gorom Peth? You mean, heated stomach? Naaah - Memo to dad: Gorom Peth is just a myth! Repeat: Gorom Peth is JUST a myth! That's only one of those things people say but I've never known happen" I say chuckling before chomping on every delicious morsel I can find as dad merely sighs heavily in disbelief especially when I take a bite out of the brain which I get the head chef to get out for me from within the skull having sawed it open.
"Who needs a Gorom Peth man, I'm going to be sick as is!" says my sister looking pale as she watches me make like a savage and tear the head apart but there's no stopping me, having not eaten for so long this was bliss!
Finally about 2 hours later, we are all finally done and the servants are clearing everything away...ok, so the reality is it was less so we and more so I in that tradition being as they were, everyone had to wait for almost an hour more than planned despite having finished their food until I was done! And making them wait was well worth it for (a) being able to eat such ridiculous amounts of glorious food and (b) watching my sister becoming ever more and more green as she watched me devour the skull.
"Little brothers - who'd have them? Not I...pity about my sister!" I say to Tanny as we laugh like we're back in secondary school again having practically made my sister ill from my gross brain eating at the table as we walk back to our room having said good night to the family much to their surprise.
Being only 11pm it isn't that late considering traditionally, Bangladeshi people eat at 10pm and don't contemplate sleep until about 1am be they adults or children, but I felt an early night for a change was much needed considering I have had little or no sleep to speak of since mum's passing.
Besides, I wanted to take a bit of time to absorb the atmosphere of nightfall in mum's little village - take in the sounds of the crickets click-clicking away and hear the small house lizards called Tik-tikkies making their distinctive sounds to rival that of the crickets.
It is also hard to miss the serene sounds of the swishing palm trees and rustling of the reeds in the nearby paddy fields swaying over the incredibly warm breeze blowing through the village.
All of these framed by a perfectly black sky scattered with diamonds sparkling down upon us made me realise that the whole journey was worth it, “Hopefully one of these stars looking down is you mum" I whisper as I look up into the sky as Tanny oblivious to my plight, still chuckles away about my sister.
Suddenly, I break away from Tanny and head over to mum to see how she is.
The hole now filled and mound of soil standing up high and proud - I lean over the fence and smile to myself; thinking about how shocked she'd have been if she were here watching me eat as much as I had not to mention goat's brains!
"A part of you would probably have been chuffed that I was given the honour though I'm sure mum!" I say trying to reassure myself that mum wouldn't have felt equally as nauseous as my sister at my efforts.
"Dude, shall I wait for ya or should I let you chat with Auntie?" Tanny calls over as I simultaneously about turn to face him, "No that's cool man - time to turn in!" I say and we continue on into our room.
Whilst the door to the main house is still open to allow the air to flow through, the door to our room is closed shut and knowing what to expect, Tanny and I apprehensively open the door.
Heat pours out of the room like a sauna and we quickly pounce towards the light switches where the switch for the ceiling fan also lies.
As it whirs into action, Tanny and I both pull the collars of our t-shirts away from our necks to allow the air to blow in and sigh in relief as the luke-warm air refreshes us however mildly.
"Man, even with the fan on the room's gonna be boiling!" says Tanny clearly stating the obvious, but not to be put off I reassure him that we'd feel more than comfortable once the fan had done its thing and we had fallen asleep in any event.
And with that we tuck in which is no easy feet - having to manoeuvre our way under the mosquito net hanging over our bed with the precision and speed of cat burglars so as to not allow a kamikaze mossie make their way into the confines of our bed - lifting the net slightly and then in true Indiana Jones style, jumping through the gap and holding the net down before lifting it up again as Tanny leaps in!
All very dramatic which would have been so much better in slow-motion and the famous Indiana Jones theme tune playing but alas, life was not a movie...to my disappointment!
I still laugh though with the thought of the drama especially when Tanny leaps in and lands with such a clunk on the bed, we look at each other suspecting he has broken something of the bed but decide we would play ignorant come tomorrow.
"Night dude...keep that tummy cool til tomorrow before the dastardly Gorom Peth nabs ya!" Tanny jokes as he turns to put his back in my direction and drifts off in what feels like a millisecond.
"All right for some," I wonder raising my eyebrows and wrinkling my forehead as Tanny starts snoring, "well, sure I can do that too given the chance" and with that I close my eyes and focus on drifting off...
...but I can't!
In fact after trying for what feels like almost an hour, my stomach feels bloated and what I can only describe as a bubbling sensation starts happening within.
"What the fuck?!"
I have no idea what is going on but whatever it was, could not be normal. I decide to lie still trying not to wake Tanny and more importantly, thinking calm thoughts will be a good way to overcome this weird sensation.
How wrong could I be.
The bubbling sensation seems to get more and more intense and despite the fan rotating at its maximum speed, blowing hot air continually round the room and me was not helping one iota.
I can feel all the oily, greasy biryani and curry, specifically the creamy brains of the goat, trying to work their way up from the pit of my stomach towards my mouth and suddenly I come to realise what I am experiencing is the dreaded Gorom Peth - the food is so rich that the heat externally is practically making the food cook itself inside and bubble up..."and here I always thought that was just bull to stop gluttons like me from over-indulging."
Initially I still try to lie still hoping the wave of nausea will pass, repeatedly cursing myself for eating so much but worse, taking childish delight out of making my sister feel sick from me gorging on the remains of the goat - "Karma. GOD! I sooooo hate karma!" I moan as my breathing gets heavier trying to suck air in to keep my food down.
It isn't long though before I realise the battle is futile and despite my concerns of waking Tanny up, I needed to bolt to the bathroom ASAP or else forget waking Tanny up with just loud noises and movement, I'd wake him up probably with a pile of sick drowning his legs.
I look around and I cannot exit through any other point bar Tanny's side anyway. Both headboards to the bed are at least 2 foot high to add to the dramatic stylings of the bed and on my side of the bed, was the wall next to which the bed had been crammed towards so I have no other option than to make a jump for it and over Tanny I go.
Desperately pushing the mosquito net whilst arched over Tanny, from underneath the mattress where we had pushed the ends into to stop any mossies flying in later, I struggle to get any of it out for me to get through because of Tanny's dead weight making it difficult.
"Dude - you need to wake up!" I say swallowing hard and my breath still feeling heavy to keep the food down.
"Eh?" sleeping beauty says as he awakens far too slowly for my liking from his slumber.
"I said, you need to wake up man and get outta my fucking way!" I shriek, Tanny practically jumping out of his skull totally startled, but it has the desired effect and I manage to pull out the net from under the mattress and run for it.
I am not quick enough though and this is clearly becoming evident as sick begins working its way up and into my mouth.
I can taste every bit of the biryani and curry I had eaten but the exquisite flavours are ruined due to the presence of huge amounts of acidic stomach fluids in the mix - unlike when I ate it - the taste is far from pleasurable.
I can see the door to the bathroom right in front of me and know given just a moment more, I can make it to the sink and so I gallantly cover my mouth with my hands hoping to stop any embarrassment of having to have one of the staff clean up my mess and know what I had done and for a moment, the food bubbles and swirls around my mouth but remains contained...until it explodes upwards within my mouth, into my nose and spurting out of my nostrils like foam out of a fire hydrant, missing the sink entirely!
Shocked. Embarrassed. Horrified. In absolute fits of hysterics.
These are the only words I can say to explain how I feel once the food has finally left the proverbially "building" and onto the bathroom floor as I half-heartedly run the tap to rinse my mouth out and then throw some water on the floor to wash away the evidence.
I feel truly shite not to mention my nostrils are stinging like a fucker from all the chilli in the curry, but I cannot help but continue laughing hysterically as Tanny walks in after me, having turned the lights on literally as I ejected some goat brains through my nose so bearing witness to my nasal trajectory!
"Now that's something you don't see every day! Man...that would have been awesome on You Tube!" he jokes as he pats me on the back as I hang off the sink, “Seriously though, you okay?"
My forehead is lying flat on the cool ceramic edge of the sink and my breathing is still heavy despite most of the food having long gone, eyes peering towards the ground but Tanny can tell I am laughing at his comment from the shaking of my shoulders.
Catching my breath, I look up over my shoulder at Tanny - "Yeah man, I could be better but I'm fine..." I pause to take another breath and then laugh, "Memo to dad: Gorom Peth is NOT a myth. Repeat: Gorom Peth is NOT a myth!"
And with that we both burst out laughing.
20100727
Chapter Twenty: Silent Smiles
By the time I have pushed my way through the plethora of men swarming around mum and her final resting place, Tanny is already waiting at the front of the Mosque with an expression of seriousness and sorrow I am getting all too familiar with but to be honest, have never seen on the crazy pygmy's face until this whole journey started.
"You okay dude?..." he says wearing an uneasy frown on his brow; I look at him and whilst there is a part of me that is desperately trying to find some quip to mock him, I genuinely do not have the strength save for mustering a silent smile.
"If you wanna talk, I'm here for you man..." he pauses hoping I will say something but with the silence being a tad uncomfortable to say the least, he continues, "...although, if you just want to sit quietly and mull things over to yourself, I'm here for you too!"
He reassuringly puts his arm over my shoulder and I just look at him and continue to say nothing. I do however, painstakingly carry on with my pathetic attempt of a smile to give him some comfort in that he has said or done enough.
We silently walk around to where my sister is as I watch the men crowded round mum slowly fill what felt like a never-ending black hole with the soil from her much beloved home and I take a deep breath to stop myself from crying.
I imagine how different it was dealing with difficult problems when mum was around - how she would hug us and tell us not to be silly. To stay strong and push on as life would naturally find a balance but alas, she was not here now.
Still, I did have one parent and as the view of the wreckage that is my sister comes ever closer I wonder where on earth dad is in all this - "Having crawled into the abyss with mum and my sister in utter devastation, you'd think he'd be there to comfort us!"
Suddenly I spy the former shadow of dad swiftly disappearing into the three storied white building clearly trying to get away from the crowds not to mention the incredible heat; probably to mourn in private to hide any signs of weakness especially from the media whom he knows have journalists dotted around everywhere but I cannot help but feel a huge amount of anger and disappointment at this perceived retreat.
"Would have been nice if he could have waited to speak to me and sis! Maybe give us a much needed hug or two!" I think to myself seething inside.
Dad had not even stuck around to at least tell me he was proud of what I had managed to do considering what I did is what Bangladeshis culturally expect the head of the family to do but as mum would say, I was my mother's son so guess, it was always going to rest on my shoulders literally or otherwise to see this through.
I feel my body stiffen and nostrils flare up as my thoughts turn to rage, "Well, I've nothing to say to you either dad, nothing at all!"
I can see Tanny nervously watching the changing expression on my face through the corner of my eye but he says nothing, knowing too well that I was in one of those moods so to break the tension a bit, jogs a few steps forward to charm his way through the wall of women surrounding my sister but this, even for him is a pretty difficult feet.
A gaggle of emotionally charged women can sometimes be bad enough but add to that religious and well, tears and screaming aside you get advice such as "crying in this life will upset your mother" or "she is now in a better place" or better still, "having suffered so long from pancreatic cancer, diabetes and liver failure will mean your mother shall be accepted by the Almighty with open arms as he would welcome a soldier who had given his life up for his home and country".
As lovely as their good intentions were, mum was dead and nothing they could say would improve the situation for my sister so it was definitely up to me to think of something and being in the situation we were in reminded me of what made mum happiest.
Managing to finally reach my sister who is sobbing uncontrollably alongside Auntie Poppy and Neema who are just as bad so in no state to give her any reassurance, by gently shoving passed the numerous other aunties, cousins and twenty-cousins-removed courtesy of Tanny, I lean over and give my sister a hug that would probably take the breath away from even the largest of bears and softly whisper in her ear, "Luv ya loser...but seriously, are you really gonna just sit here and listen to the advice of these lovely ladies or are ya gonna get outta here and call my nut of a bro-in-law and more importantly, those monkeys that I affectionately refer to as my nephews and see how they're doing! The boys need their mother...believe me, I know!"
I smirk a little as my sister pulls away and then thinking about what I have said, despite her eyes being swollen and bloodshot, she manages a weary yet sincere smile but says nothing.
Lips quivering as the upturned expression comes back down, she clears her eyes with the edge of her shawl covering her head and kissing me on my cheek, excuses herself and dashes off into the white building to find her mobile and see how things were back home.
"A mother's love for her children, the ultimate high...who needs drugs!" I mutter under my breath as I stare in the direction of my sister.
Auntie Poppy and Neema almost simultaneously congratulate me on my masterful manoeuvre as I turn to face them and then they ask me how I am doing. Though I want to say so much, I just give them that silent smile that seems to be spreading since burying mum.
Coughing to clear her throat and gain some composure, Auntie Poppy then pipes up, "Well, whatever the case baba, have you seen the state of you huh? Your white pyjama and punjabi are absolutely filthy; these are normally meant to be worn for religious occasions and prayer you know, not rolling around in mud," Aunty Poppy smiles lovingly, her lashes glistening in the fading sunlight where tears lay hanging, "so why don't you go and freshen up and catch up with your cousins and Tanny until we send someone over to give you a call as dinner will be served soon."
With that she calls over to Tanny and asks him to whisk me away to our ramshackled room to get ourselves sorted for the night ahead whilst I automatically smile and nod, though not really taking in anything of what she said as I am initially confused.
"Mud? What mud?" I think to myself staring at my hands as Tanny turns to take me away having received his instructions from Auntie Poppy but struggling to catch my attention.
I stand there mesmerized by the drying mud engulfing my hands and streaks of brown that have stained my bright white cotton clothes and covered my feet.
With everything that had been going on, seems I had just pushed through almost like a soldier following orders without actually taking in what I was doing.
Yes, I was there and present and judging people left, right and centre, but it was almost as if I was watching as a bystander looking in except for those moments when pain kicked in - be it physical or emotional.
I had not even realised the state I was in by way of appearance until now as I was trying to be a real man I guess!
"A real man like my father - doing what needs doing but wallowing in self-pity and sorrow in private and alone as that's the only moment when the truth is allowed to slap you across the fucking face and you can break down and crumble!"
I suddenly feel a great sadness as to how little I have done to communicate with dad since all this had started - both of us trying to be manlier than the other and get on with things rather than actually talk, and considering he was now my only parent, this was heartbreaking.
Tanny finally catches my attention with the hundredth click of his fingers but before he can say anything, looking up, I suddenly realise I need to speak to dad even if to just tell him things were going to be okay, "Be with you in a second dude - just gonna pop over and see dad" and with that I run off to my dad's room.
He is sitting in his air-conditioned box of a room, all the curtains pulled and lying on his bed in the darkness, the air-conditioning whirring away as I knock on the door and enter.
"Hi dad..." I say as he sits up slightly looking sombre and melancholy but at the same time confused to see me.
"Is everything alright? Where is your sister?" he says anxiously, obviously thinking something bad had happened for me to be there!
"Sis is fine dad...sis is fine! Giving her little monkeys a call to see how they are."
Dad looks even more confused so I continue, "As weird as it may sound, the only reason I'm here is that, well, I just wanted to say I love ya and..." I hesitate not really knowing what to say but then continue, "...and errr, just wanted to let you know that I don't want anyone to wash these clothes - plan to keep them as a memento of today. What you, sis and I have been through to fulfill mum's dying wish..." I stop and tearfully stoop my head.
Looking down my clothes, my eyes run over and over again the brown streaks and splodges of dirt tainting the crisp whiteness of the cotton. The last physical remnants of being close to mum.
I want to burst out crying or at the very least, scream with anger but hold back on both and looking back up just ask dad if keeping these items was "Okay?" which is all I can utter.
Dad says nothing but nods affirmatively and then fakes that smile I had become all too familiar with using myself, but this lasts for only a moment before he puts his head in his hands and starts crying.
I stand there for a moment but then go up to him and sitting on the side of the bed, give him a hug to rival that of the one given to my sister. Initially my old man flinches but then he relaxes as I jokily tell him to get showered and changed "...as food was to be served soon and you need to be there dad seeing as we were the celebrities of the occasion...such as it was".
As I rock slightly hugging dad I am both sad but oddly pleased at the same time - sad about the situation of course but pleased that I had worked my way out of my misplaced anger with dad so quickly.
Dad once again says nothing at first and sits there with my arms around him until he pats my arms and jokes that I am crushing him to death to which we both chuckle a little.
I then let go and in total contravention of manliness, kiss dad on the cheek and hug him some more, "You're all sis and I have now dad - but the same goes for you. If you need anything, we're here for you!"
With that I get up from the side of the bed and leave his room to get myself sorted for the evening.
As I turn to shut the door, I see dad looking over and smiling gently he calls after me, "Baba, your mother and I are so proud of you. Always have been and we especially are today - remember that."
I nod respectfully and seal the door shut behind me.
As I begin to walk towards the ramshackled building with his words swimming in my head, I feel a smile - a real smile - suddenly break across my face and infectiously tickle my senses, causing me to feel upbeat for a change and completely surprising me in the process.
"Well what do you know!" I say laughing lightly to myself and shaking my head in disbelief, realisation hitting me out of the blue, "My lame smile actually does have a purpose other than hiding unhappiness - it exudes love as well."
With that, I reach the front door of my building and push the already slightly ajar door open wide with a gusto I had been missing for what felt like an eternity until now and step inside with a giant step, stretching at the same time.
Before I turn to go into mine and Tanny's room though, I peer over my shoulder and lovingly feel myself look over at where dad's room lay and then where mum had now laid her head to rest for the last time and whispering to myself, I thank them for reigniting the warmth within my heart again.
"You okay dude?..." he says wearing an uneasy frown on his brow; I look at him and whilst there is a part of me that is desperately trying to find some quip to mock him, I genuinely do not have the strength save for mustering a silent smile.
"If you wanna talk, I'm here for you man..." he pauses hoping I will say something but with the silence being a tad uncomfortable to say the least, he continues, "...although, if you just want to sit quietly and mull things over to yourself, I'm here for you too!"
He reassuringly puts his arm over my shoulder and I just look at him and continue to say nothing. I do however, painstakingly carry on with my pathetic attempt of a smile to give him some comfort in that he has said or done enough.
We silently walk around to where my sister is as I watch the men crowded round mum slowly fill what felt like a never-ending black hole with the soil from her much beloved home and I take a deep breath to stop myself from crying.
I imagine how different it was dealing with difficult problems when mum was around - how she would hug us and tell us not to be silly. To stay strong and push on as life would naturally find a balance but alas, she was not here now.
Still, I did have one parent and as the view of the wreckage that is my sister comes ever closer I wonder where on earth dad is in all this - "Having crawled into the abyss with mum and my sister in utter devastation, you'd think he'd be there to comfort us!"
Suddenly I spy the former shadow of dad swiftly disappearing into the three storied white building clearly trying to get away from the crowds not to mention the incredible heat; probably to mourn in private to hide any signs of weakness especially from the media whom he knows have journalists dotted around everywhere but I cannot help but feel a huge amount of anger and disappointment at this perceived retreat.
"Would have been nice if he could have waited to speak to me and sis! Maybe give us a much needed hug or two!" I think to myself seething inside.
Dad had not even stuck around to at least tell me he was proud of what I had managed to do considering what I did is what Bangladeshis culturally expect the head of the family to do but as mum would say, I was my mother's son so guess, it was always going to rest on my shoulders literally or otherwise to see this through.
I feel my body stiffen and nostrils flare up as my thoughts turn to rage, "Well, I've nothing to say to you either dad, nothing at all!"
I can see Tanny nervously watching the changing expression on my face through the corner of my eye but he says nothing, knowing too well that I was in one of those moods so to break the tension a bit, jogs a few steps forward to charm his way through the wall of women surrounding my sister but this, even for him is a pretty difficult feet.
A gaggle of emotionally charged women can sometimes be bad enough but add to that religious and well, tears and screaming aside you get advice such as "crying in this life will upset your mother" or "she is now in a better place" or better still, "having suffered so long from pancreatic cancer, diabetes and liver failure will mean your mother shall be accepted by the Almighty with open arms as he would welcome a soldier who had given his life up for his home and country".
As lovely as their good intentions were, mum was dead and nothing they could say would improve the situation for my sister so it was definitely up to me to think of something and being in the situation we were in reminded me of what made mum happiest.
Managing to finally reach my sister who is sobbing uncontrollably alongside Auntie Poppy and Neema who are just as bad so in no state to give her any reassurance, by gently shoving passed the numerous other aunties, cousins and twenty-cousins-removed courtesy of Tanny, I lean over and give my sister a hug that would probably take the breath away from even the largest of bears and softly whisper in her ear, "Luv ya loser...but seriously, are you really gonna just sit here and listen to the advice of these lovely ladies or are ya gonna get outta here and call my nut of a bro-in-law and more importantly, those monkeys that I affectionately refer to as my nephews and see how they're doing! The boys need their mother...believe me, I know!"
I smirk a little as my sister pulls away and then thinking about what I have said, despite her eyes being swollen and bloodshot, she manages a weary yet sincere smile but says nothing.
Lips quivering as the upturned expression comes back down, she clears her eyes with the edge of her shawl covering her head and kissing me on my cheek, excuses herself and dashes off into the white building to find her mobile and see how things were back home.
"A mother's love for her children, the ultimate high...who needs drugs!" I mutter under my breath as I stare in the direction of my sister.
Auntie Poppy and Neema almost simultaneously congratulate me on my masterful manoeuvre as I turn to face them and then they ask me how I am doing. Though I want to say so much, I just give them that silent smile that seems to be spreading since burying mum.
Coughing to clear her throat and gain some composure, Auntie Poppy then pipes up, "Well, whatever the case baba, have you seen the state of you huh? Your white pyjama and punjabi are absolutely filthy; these are normally meant to be worn for religious occasions and prayer you know, not rolling around in mud," Aunty Poppy smiles lovingly, her lashes glistening in the fading sunlight where tears lay hanging, "so why don't you go and freshen up and catch up with your cousins and Tanny until we send someone over to give you a call as dinner will be served soon."
With that she calls over to Tanny and asks him to whisk me away to our ramshackled room to get ourselves sorted for the night ahead whilst I automatically smile and nod, though not really taking in anything of what she said as I am initially confused.
"Mud? What mud?" I think to myself staring at my hands as Tanny turns to take me away having received his instructions from Auntie Poppy but struggling to catch my attention.
I stand there mesmerized by the drying mud engulfing my hands and streaks of brown that have stained my bright white cotton clothes and covered my feet.
With everything that had been going on, seems I had just pushed through almost like a soldier following orders without actually taking in what I was doing.
Yes, I was there and present and judging people left, right and centre, but it was almost as if I was watching as a bystander looking in except for those moments when pain kicked in - be it physical or emotional.
I had not even realised the state I was in by way of appearance until now as I was trying to be a real man I guess!
"A real man like my father - doing what needs doing but wallowing in self-pity and sorrow in private and alone as that's the only moment when the truth is allowed to slap you across the fucking face and you can break down and crumble!"
I suddenly feel a great sadness as to how little I have done to communicate with dad since all this had started - both of us trying to be manlier than the other and get on with things rather than actually talk, and considering he was now my only parent, this was heartbreaking.
Tanny finally catches my attention with the hundredth click of his fingers but before he can say anything, looking up, I suddenly realise I need to speak to dad even if to just tell him things were going to be okay, "Be with you in a second dude - just gonna pop over and see dad" and with that I run off to my dad's room.
He is sitting in his air-conditioned box of a room, all the curtains pulled and lying on his bed in the darkness, the air-conditioning whirring away as I knock on the door and enter.
"Hi dad..." I say as he sits up slightly looking sombre and melancholy but at the same time confused to see me.
"Is everything alright? Where is your sister?" he says anxiously, obviously thinking something bad had happened for me to be there!
"Sis is fine dad...sis is fine! Giving her little monkeys a call to see how they are."
Dad looks even more confused so I continue, "As weird as it may sound, the only reason I'm here is that, well, I just wanted to say I love ya and..." I hesitate not really knowing what to say but then continue, "...and errr, just wanted to let you know that I don't want anyone to wash these clothes - plan to keep them as a memento of today. What you, sis and I have been through to fulfill mum's dying wish..." I stop and tearfully stoop my head.
Looking down my clothes, my eyes run over and over again the brown streaks and splodges of dirt tainting the crisp whiteness of the cotton. The last physical remnants of being close to mum.
I want to burst out crying or at the very least, scream with anger but hold back on both and looking back up just ask dad if keeping these items was "Okay?" which is all I can utter.
Dad says nothing but nods affirmatively and then fakes that smile I had become all too familiar with using myself, but this lasts for only a moment before he puts his head in his hands and starts crying.
I stand there for a moment but then go up to him and sitting on the side of the bed, give him a hug to rival that of the one given to my sister. Initially my old man flinches but then he relaxes as I jokily tell him to get showered and changed "...as food was to be served soon and you need to be there dad seeing as we were the celebrities of the occasion...such as it was".
As I rock slightly hugging dad I am both sad but oddly pleased at the same time - sad about the situation of course but pleased that I had worked my way out of my misplaced anger with dad so quickly.
Dad once again says nothing at first and sits there with my arms around him until he pats my arms and jokes that I am crushing him to death to which we both chuckle a little.
I then let go and in total contravention of manliness, kiss dad on the cheek and hug him some more, "You're all sis and I have now dad - but the same goes for you. If you need anything, we're here for you!"
With that I get up from the side of the bed and leave his room to get myself sorted for the evening.
As I turn to shut the door, I see dad looking over and smiling gently he calls after me, "Baba, your mother and I are so proud of you. Always have been and we especially are today - remember that."
I nod respectfully and seal the door shut behind me.
As I begin to walk towards the ramshackled building with his words swimming in my head, I feel a smile - a real smile - suddenly break across my face and infectiously tickle my senses, causing me to feel upbeat for a change and completely surprising me in the process.
"Well what do you know!" I say laughing lightly to myself and shaking my head in disbelief, realisation hitting me out of the blue, "My lame smile actually does have a purpose other than hiding unhappiness - it exudes love as well."
With that, I reach the front door of my building and push the already slightly ajar door open wide with a gusto I had been missing for what felt like an eternity until now and step inside with a giant step, stretching at the same time.
Before I turn to go into mine and Tanny's room though, I peer over my shoulder and lovingly feel myself look over at where dad's room lay and then where mum had now laid her head to rest for the last time and whispering to myself, I thank them for reigniting the warmth within my heart again.
20100217
Chapter Nineteen: Six Feet Under
It would probably have been an eternity before any of us decided to settle down and remember why we were there and that our duties were far from over if it were not for Dada.
Coughing loudly to clear his throat, he asks me to help in lifting mum’s head so that dad can pull the white cotton wrap from under her head and complete the task of wrapping her up in readiness for her burial.
However, dad looks at both of us with his bedraggled hair sticking out from under his little prayer hat, his eyes red and swollen and Dada decides to take on the responsibility himself and nods at me to begin lifting.
I lift her head as gently as I can but the weight is surprising; it’s almost like she is pushing her head against my hand to stop me from raising her up and to be honest, I half expect her to open her eyes and tell me off for waking her up from her slumber.
I can hear her soft hair rubbing underneath the cloth and feel the unevenness of her hair on my palm; her angelic face practically shines out from the coffin – over powering the darkness of the wood and cold metallic lead that surrounds her.
I flinch as Dada shakily covers mum’s face, clearly doing what needs to be done but holding back the tears that I know are raging to break out within him.
And then she is gone.
A body lies before us, mummified.
Since losing mum, she had suddenly come back into our lives one last time but her fleeting visit felt more like torture than a gift – seeing her once more was excruciating.
It was bad enough knowing mum lay within the confines of the coffin we had all been protecting all this time, like a treasure chest full of precious cargo, but still, there was a certain level of desensitisation that I had no idea I had started building up…until that is, it all came crashing down - having opened up Pandora’s box so to speak, and seen what lay within!
Dada can see the sadness in my eyes as I stand up and stare down at mum lying there whilst the rest of the family remains seated around the coffin still crying unreservedly. In Auntie Poppy's case, I am surprised she has not lost her voice yet bearing in mind the level at which she is howling away.
He stands up as well and putting his arms around me, gives me as loving a hug a macho war hero can, and then he walks towards the door and opens it calling over to Goldie, Princess’s father and a few others to come in and carry mum out of her resting place to the plinth from which we would take her to the grave that had been lovingly dug by the villagers at the rear of the mosque I had spied earlier.
The select men walk in and take a moment to compose themselves before they reach down to lift mum, asking dad and my sister if that was okay as they did; my sister can barely look at them she is crying so much but dad manages a nod so they reach in to carry her out.
Refusing to be pushed out of the equation, I ensure no one touches mum’s head save for me, and we carry her out steadily from inside the cool inner walls of the bungalow to the burning sun and tremendous heat of the Bangladeshi summer.
As the heat warms my face, I stare up into the sky and cannot help notice just how wonderfully blue it is, something that seemed to have quickly become overshadowed by dust clouds when we were surrounded by the parade of people trying to catch a glimpse of the action.
Don’t get me wrong this wasn't to say the crowds had entirely died down!
Despite the tighter security at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, there are plenty of people in small packs scattered around us as we step down from the bungalow to the plinth to lay mum down – the main difference however was that those who were around were not rushing around like Tasmanian devils kicking up a storm and in turn, quite literally throwing up sand and gravel into the air.
Oddly enough, the combination of the heat, beauty of the azure sky and respectful silence brings a gentle smile to my face although as with so many occasions during this trip, tears manage to find their way through my tear ducts and trickle softly down my cheeks; tickling me as they do – as if they are trying to cheer me up - they swiftly drop off my face into the dusty plateau beneath my feet.
For a moment, I see things through my mum’s eyes and despite my reservations, suddenly it all feels alright.
“This is where her life began. This is where she wanted it to end – how could she not be at peace in such a beautiful place?” I hear myself say as I lay mum’s head onto the warm wood of the plinth.
I go to lift up the plinth with Goldie and a few others but before we can do this, we are interrupted by the Molabhi who has arrived seemingly out of nowhere, to advise that under Islam only the men will be allowed to instigate the burial and the women will have to stay away until mum had been completely covered.
He is saying this as he stares almost glaringly, at the doorway of bungalow where my sister, Neema and Auntie Poppy are standing – as if he knew that they had every intention to help in the actual act of the burial.
“…And why the fuck not?!” I want to shout out at him but custom was custom even if I did not agree with it.
My sister is visibly upset but looks at me as if she has heard my thoughts, and somehow manages a sombre smile as if to acknowledge my thoughts but asking me to let it go.
And begrudgingly I do.
Taking a deep breath I compose myself and get a handle on my anger and with a roar, lift mum up alongside the other fellows assisting and we carry mum to her burial site.
Unfortunately, what I thought would be a few strides turns out to be slightly more taxing than that as through the heat once more, we have to walk out of the cul-de-sac and around the other side, through the side entrance of the mosque.
Sweat drips down my face as the pain in my shoulders from the crowd crushing carnage of Banglastonbury and carrying mum return with a vengeance, but I soldier on.
As we get nearer to the graveyard, we are asked by the Molabhi to balance mum above us and take off our shoes which is a traditional sign of respect to the dead under Islam and by some miracle, I manage to do this without wincing too much.
As the cool muddy clay surrounding mum’s site oozes into every crevice of my toes and feet, I am surprised to feel a certain sensation of relief as having followed the Molabhi we finally reach the edge of the burial site and lower mum’s plinth from our shoulders to the ground.
The physical pain is still throbbing but I know I have reached my destination and the cold mud is inadvertently working its magic in reducing the all-encompassing heat I am standing in, so the combination works well to cheer me up the best it can.
I look over to the bungalow and see that my sister, Neema and Auntie Poppy along with other aunties and female cousins and relatives stand about 15 feet away watching us from the other side of the fencing, marking out the rear edge of the mosque, and quickly stop my wincing and wipe my sweat from my face – “there was no way I was going to let them see my pain to merely add to their woes” I think as I do so.
I then hear Princess’s father speak out my name although I do not catch what he has said before that and for a moment I am utterly confused when Goldie starts to practically push me into the grave itself.
I look at my sister as she cries profusely as I slowly turn and climb down into the darkness of the hole having shoved Goldie’s hands off me; Princess’s father already stands below waiting.
It still takes me a while to even realise what I am doing there – the truth hitting me hard in the form of mum’s mummified silhouette being lowered down above Princess’s father and I and voices from above asking whether we had safely caught her in our arms.
My heart breaks as I feel mum’s head and shoulders fall into my arms and I see Princess’s father’s face as he appears to hold on to mum’s legs for dear life – neither of us wanting to lay her down and leave her here in this cold darkness alone.
Despite everything I felt about Princess’s father, our eyes lock in that moment as tears begin flooding his eyes - the sister who was like a mother to him was gone and here we were, him and I – six feet under saying goodbye to one of the most amazing women we would ever have the honour of knowing.
We say nothing to each other but somehow muster up a smile at each other and then look down at mum before Princess’s father climbs out and puts his arm down to help me out.
I take hold at first and begin clambering out, my pearly white Punjabi which is a traditional Islamic shirt or tunic, sodden in mud and essentially brown in colour, but then look back down at mum and let go, returning to her.
There is barely any room but somehow I manage to crouch down and I kiss mum’s head three times – “The first is from dad who having nursed you for the last three years and now lost you – the love of his life – has become but a sliver of the man he used to be and barely has the strength to walk let alone do what I have done.
The second one is from your first born who by some cruel twist of fate was born a woman and thus prevented from doing what I know she could have done better than any son or brother in this world and the next…”
I choke as I speak what I know will be my final words to mum, “…and the third one? This is from your baby. Your last born. All I have to say is forgive me for who I am and always give me the strength to be who you always hoped I would become. I love you – I never said that enough to you but I hope and pray I did enough to ensure you knew the truth.”
And with that, I reach up again and am drawn back into the light by Princess’s father who hugs me tightly before I have even properly emerged.
We look at each other once more; neither of us being able to find the right words to say but floods of tears pouring out of our eyes as the hole starts getting filled behind us as the Molabhi begins reciting some prayers, but as we turn to look at mum one last time as she disappears under the earth, I find myself saying to him, “Gayer mae gaye feeroth ach-chay, uncle…the village girl has returned home…”
Coughing loudly to clear his throat, he asks me to help in lifting mum’s head so that dad can pull the white cotton wrap from under her head and complete the task of wrapping her up in readiness for her burial.
However, dad looks at both of us with his bedraggled hair sticking out from under his little prayer hat, his eyes red and swollen and Dada decides to take on the responsibility himself and nods at me to begin lifting.
I lift her head as gently as I can but the weight is surprising; it’s almost like she is pushing her head against my hand to stop me from raising her up and to be honest, I half expect her to open her eyes and tell me off for waking her up from her slumber.
I can hear her soft hair rubbing underneath the cloth and feel the unevenness of her hair on my palm; her angelic face practically shines out from the coffin – over powering the darkness of the wood and cold metallic lead that surrounds her.
I flinch as Dada shakily covers mum’s face, clearly doing what needs to be done but holding back the tears that I know are raging to break out within him.
And then she is gone.
A body lies before us, mummified.
Since losing mum, she had suddenly come back into our lives one last time but her fleeting visit felt more like torture than a gift – seeing her once more was excruciating.
It was bad enough knowing mum lay within the confines of the coffin we had all been protecting all this time, like a treasure chest full of precious cargo, but still, there was a certain level of desensitisation that I had no idea I had started building up…until that is, it all came crashing down - having opened up Pandora’s box so to speak, and seen what lay within!
Dada can see the sadness in my eyes as I stand up and stare down at mum lying there whilst the rest of the family remains seated around the coffin still crying unreservedly. In Auntie Poppy's case, I am surprised she has not lost her voice yet bearing in mind the level at which she is howling away.
He stands up as well and putting his arms around me, gives me as loving a hug a macho war hero can, and then he walks towards the door and opens it calling over to Goldie, Princess’s father and a few others to come in and carry mum out of her resting place to the plinth from which we would take her to the grave that had been lovingly dug by the villagers at the rear of the mosque I had spied earlier.
The select men walk in and take a moment to compose themselves before they reach down to lift mum, asking dad and my sister if that was okay as they did; my sister can barely look at them she is crying so much but dad manages a nod so they reach in to carry her out.
Refusing to be pushed out of the equation, I ensure no one touches mum’s head save for me, and we carry her out steadily from inside the cool inner walls of the bungalow to the burning sun and tremendous heat of the Bangladeshi summer.
As the heat warms my face, I stare up into the sky and cannot help notice just how wonderfully blue it is, something that seemed to have quickly become overshadowed by dust clouds when we were surrounded by the parade of people trying to catch a glimpse of the action.
Don’t get me wrong this wasn't to say the crowds had entirely died down!
Despite the tighter security at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, there are plenty of people in small packs scattered around us as we step down from the bungalow to the plinth to lay mum down – the main difference however was that those who were around were not rushing around like Tasmanian devils kicking up a storm and in turn, quite literally throwing up sand and gravel into the air.
Oddly enough, the combination of the heat, beauty of the azure sky and respectful silence brings a gentle smile to my face although as with so many occasions during this trip, tears manage to find their way through my tear ducts and trickle softly down my cheeks; tickling me as they do – as if they are trying to cheer me up - they swiftly drop off my face into the dusty plateau beneath my feet.
For a moment, I see things through my mum’s eyes and despite my reservations, suddenly it all feels alright.
“This is where her life began. This is where she wanted it to end – how could she not be at peace in such a beautiful place?” I hear myself say as I lay mum’s head onto the warm wood of the plinth.
I go to lift up the plinth with Goldie and a few others but before we can do this, we are interrupted by the Molabhi who has arrived seemingly out of nowhere, to advise that under Islam only the men will be allowed to instigate the burial and the women will have to stay away until mum had been completely covered.
He is saying this as he stares almost glaringly, at the doorway of bungalow where my sister, Neema and Auntie Poppy are standing – as if he knew that they had every intention to help in the actual act of the burial.
“…And why the fuck not?!” I want to shout out at him but custom was custom even if I did not agree with it.
My sister is visibly upset but looks at me as if she has heard my thoughts, and somehow manages a sombre smile as if to acknowledge my thoughts but asking me to let it go.
And begrudgingly I do.
Taking a deep breath I compose myself and get a handle on my anger and with a roar, lift mum up alongside the other fellows assisting and we carry mum to her burial site.
Unfortunately, what I thought would be a few strides turns out to be slightly more taxing than that as through the heat once more, we have to walk out of the cul-de-sac and around the other side, through the side entrance of the mosque.
Sweat drips down my face as the pain in my shoulders from the crowd crushing carnage of Banglastonbury and carrying mum return with a vengeance, but I soldier on.
As we get nearer to the graveyard, we are asked by the Molabhi to balance mum above us and take off our shoes which is a traditional sign of respect to the dead under Islam and by some miracle, I manage to do this without wincing too much.
As the cool muddy clay surrounding mum’s site oozes into every crevice of my toes and feet, I am surprised to feel a certain sensation of relief as having followed the Molabhi we finally reach the edge of the burial site and lower mum’s plinth from our shoulders to the ground.
The physical pain is still throbbing but I know I have reached my destination and the cold mud is inadvertently working its magic in reducing the all-encompassing heat I am standing in, so the combination works well to cheer me up the best it can.
I look over to the bungalow and see that my sister, Neema and Auntie Poppy along with other aunties and female cousins and relatives stand about 15 feet away watching us from the other side of the fencing, marking out the rear edge of the mosque, and quickly stop my wincing and wipe my sweat from my face – “there was no way I was going to let them see my pain to merely add to their woes” I think as I do so.
I then hear Princess’s father speak out my name although I do not catch what he has said before that and for a moment I am utterly confused when Goldie starts to practically push me into the grave itself.
I look at my sister as she cries profusely as I slowly turn and climb down into the darkness of the hole having shoved Goldie’s hands off me; Princess’s father already stands below waiting.
It still takes me a while to even realise what I am doing there – the truth hitting me hard in the form of mum’s mummified silhouette being lowered down above Princess’s father and I and voices from above asking whether we had safely caught her in our arms.
My heart breaks as I feel mum’s head and shoulders fall into my arms and I see Princess’s father’s face as he appears to hold on to mum’s legs for dear life – neither of us wanting to lay her down and leave her here in this cold darkness alone.
Despite everything I felt about Princess’s father, our eyes lock in that moment as tears begin flooding his eyes - the sister who was like a mother to him was gone and here we were, him and I – six feet under saying goodbye to one of the most amazing women we would ever have the honour of knowing.
We say nothing to each other but somehow muster up a smile at each other and then look down at mum before Princess’s father climbs out and puts his arm down to help me out.
I take hold at first and begin clambering out, my pearly white Punjabi which is a traditional Islamic shirt or tunic, sodden in mud and essentially brown in colour, but then look back down at mum and let go, returning to her.
There is barely any room but somehow I manage to crouch down and I kiss mum’s head three times – “The first is from dad who having nursed you for the last three years and now lost you – the love of his life – has become but a sliver of the man he used to be and barely has the strength to walk let alone do what I have done.
The second one is from your first born who by some cruel twist of fate was born a woman and thus prevented from doing what I know she could have done better than any son or brother in this world and the next…”
I choke as I speak what I know will be my final words to mum, “…and the third one? This is from your baby. Your last born. All I have to say is forgive me for who I am and always give me the strength to be who you always hoped I would become. I love you – I never said that enough to you but I hope and pray I did enough to ensure you knew the truth.”
And with that, I reach up again and am drawn back into the light by Princess’s father who hugs me tightly before I have even properly emerged.
We look at each other once more; neither of us being able to find the right words to say but floods of tears pouring out of our eyes as the hole starts getting filled behind us as the Molabhi begins reciting some prayers, but as we turn to look at mum one last time as she disappears under the earth, I find myself saying to him, “Gayer mae gaye feeroth ach-chay, uncle…the village girl has returned home…”
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