Macchar Jhol
I headed off with a good school friend to this bar in Chicago where we were supposed to meet a group of his friends and their extended friends. Very soon there were some 20 of us in a bar with music so loud that I could not hear their names when introduced. So I settled down with my regular drink and caught highlights of the Michigan v/s Utah game and drank some more over Michigans loss.
Just then this girl crashed onto the barstool next to mine. Almost out of breath with the dancing and perhaps a little too drunk. In my eyes, entertainment had just planted its butt next to mine.
"Tired?", I asked, sipping on my rum n coke.
She turned my way and slowly checked me out head to toe. I put that down to too much alcohol as she nodded a yes.
"I dont think I got your name", I said, taking another gulp of my drink.
"Shar", she said (name abbreviated for privacy concerns). A very typical Bengali name.
"Allow me to guess", I said, "Its Shar Banerjee?"
"No"
"Chatterjee?"
"No"
"Mukherjee?"
"No"
"Ganguly!!"
Still no. This was not going too well. I looked at my fifth glass of alcohol, looked at Shar and said to myself, "Go for it".
"So can you cook Macchar Jhol?", I asked, and made a self note that I must be the first guy ever in a crowded Chicago bar to ask a chick high on alcohol about cooking fish, Bong style.
The reaction was even more surprising. "Nope. Cant make it, but can eat it", she said and then looked at me rather suspiciously. "How do you know about Macchar Jhol?"
"I am a Bong"
"No way! Whats your name?"
"Arvindo" (yes people, I was trying my level best to keep a poker face here)
And then my dear friend X turns up out of nowhere, "Hey Apoorva, get on the dance floor with me". I am pulled into the crowd despite many a protest and Shar is lost in the background.
End of the night and we are walking out of the club when I come across Shar again. "Apoorva, do you know why you cant be Bengali?", she asks. "Hey! Apoorva can be a Bengali name. Just pronounce it as Opporvo", I reply.
We both laugh and she says, "No, because Bong men just cannot dance".
"There can always be exceptions", I protest, "Else all Bong women would know how to make Macchar Jhol"
We laugh again, and say our goodbyes, knowing we'll never meet again. I weave my way through hundreds of people crowding Chicago's Rush & Division neighbourhood to X's car, wondering if she just said that I am a good dancer? I cant dance for nuts! She must have meant Bong men can dance. But thats not true as well. Except Mithun Chakraborthy.
Hugs, good night and a pillow!
Just then this girl crashed onto the barstool next to mine. Almost out of breath with the dancing and perhaps a little too drunk. In my eyes, entertainment had just planted its butt next to mine.
"Tired?", I asked, sipping on my rum n coke.
She turned my way and slowly checked me out head to toe. I put that down to too much alcohol as she nodded a yes.
"I dont think I got your name", I said, taking another gulp of my drink.
"Shar", she said (name abbreviated for privacy concerns). A very typical Bengali name.
"Allow me to guess", I said, "Its Shar Banerjee?"
"No"
"Chatterjee?"
"No"
"Mukherjee?"
"No"
"Ganguly!!"
Still no. This was not going too well. I looked at my fifth glass of alcohol, looked at Shar and said to myself, "Go for it".
"So can you cook Macchar Jhol?", I asked, and made a self note that I must be the first guy ever in a crowded Chicago bar to ask a chick high on alcohol about cooking fish, Bong style.
The reaction was even more surprising. "Nope. Cant make it, but can eat it", she said and then looked at me rather suspiciously. "How do you know about Macchar Jhol?"
"I am a Bong"
"No way! Whats your name?"
"Arvindo" (yes people, I was trying my level best to keep a poker face here)
And then my dear friend X turns up out of nowhere, "Hey Apoorva, get on the dance floor with me". I am pulled into the crowd despite many a protest and Shar is lost in the background.
End of the night and we are walking out of the club when I come across Shar again. "Apoorva, do you know why you cant be Bengali?", she asks. "Hey! Apoorva can be a Bengali name. Just pronounce it as Opporvo", I reply.
We both laugh and she says, "No, because Bong men just cannot dance".
"There can always be exceptions", I protest, "Else all Bong women would know how to make Macchar Jhol"
We laugh again, and say our goodbyes, knowing we'll never meet again. I weave my way through hundreds of people crowding Chicago's Rush & Division neighbourhood to X's car, wondering if she just said that I am a good dancer? I cant dance for nuts! She must have meant Bong men can dance. But thats not true as well. Except Mithun Chakraborthy.
Hugs, good night and a pillow!
...41 days to go
posted by APOO at 12:30 AM
8 Comments:
i can make Macchar Jhol but i can't dance
i think i'm a bong woman who can't dance
you do a lot of shar-aa-rat (mischief) with this countdown thing going...
what jhol you are doing man?
I know what the countdown is for! Yay! I figured your big secret :P
#Abhi: Define woman!
#Iyer: You shall know. For all you know, its nothing!
#Menagerie: Go ahead, make it public if you know it!
So some drunk chick said u dance well. Wondering on the irony here!
i didnt go to any of the places you mentioned.
:(
and being the horrible tourist that i am...i cant remember the names of the awesome places i did go to.lol.
Wats the countdown to???
#Aah: When one is drunk, they always speaketh the truth :P
#Khizzy: Am sure there will be another time. In fact I know u'll be back, and very soon. Mr. Cop is waiting... :P
#Illusion: Why dont we wait for it to hit zero? :)
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