This is a tale of last year's Pohela Boishakh.
Little did I know that I would be spending the next Pohela Boishakh in Dhaka, my second home.
C'est la vie.
Anyway.
Enough jokes happened over the last three digits all over social media.
Frankly, this is the only time we are reminded of the Bengali year.
Else, it is always the Gregorian calendar that determines our schedule. And there is no guarantee that the English date and the Bengali date will match.
My mother in law has been known to not wish my wife on her birthday, as according to her, the birthday is 11 Boishakh and not 25 April. Those two will not necessarily coincide.
And to make matters worse, Pohela Boishakh is celebrated on 14th April in Bangladesh and on 15th April in India.
Hence, between my in-laws and us, we have two days of greeting each other.
Whatever may be the difference, one thing is constant on Pohela Boishakh; food.
In my radio gig, I talked about the fact that Pohela Boishakh is a celebration in Bangladesh and a mere holiday in Calcutta.
While food is a big part of the celebration in Bangladesh, it would appear that food is the only celebration in Calcutta, apart from adda and long naps.
Our household is no different.
We put on our best Bengali face, wear our customary new clothes and cook a lot.
Well, my wife cooks a lot.
Last year she completely outdid herself.
Year before was panta (boiled rice soaked in cold water and mixed with mustard oil, fried red chilies and raw onion), alu bhorta (spiced mashed potatoes and this description does not even begin to explain the soul of alu bhorta) and fried small fish.
Last year, along with panta, alu bhorta and fried small fish (puti maach), she made a fantastic young jackfruit curry that was highly comparable with the world class stuff we had in Sri Lanka, deep fried okra (recipe courtesy dear friend Paula) and her signature kacha aamer shorbot – grated green mango blended with green chilies, sugar and salt, then strained to get the juicy goodness.
Good friends brought alu posto, a much debated dish (should there be turmeric in it, should there be any spices at all, should there be a judicious addition of mustard seeds… the debate rages) and moong dal.
We also had sandesh and ledikeni from Banccharam.
Let me not disrespect the memory of the fine lunch by rambling on.
