Raspberry Fart
This is a story of accusation on the poor lil Raspberry. The tale begins on a very dramatic note on a Traffic Signal in the Great City of Joy, Kolkata. Me and my alter ego, Mani are returning from a whacky afternoon extending to evening of very economic and satisfying round of shopping. We took the not-so-modest means of travel... The Big Yellow Taxi...though Mani was insisting on a commoner mode of Metro Rail. Sometimes I do want some lavishness breaking away from our otherwise “Aam Aadmi” routine of shared autos. Plus I was too tired to go standing and shoving away the crowd and smell their signature odours. So here we are letting our bodies ease up on the dusty spongy seats of the antic Ambassador with a bag full of well invested money. We are chatting up the day’s conquests and what fun we had...and thus adding to our quota of fun. The Taxi hauled over for some time at a signal and as its customary in all signals all over India...in metros specially...suddenly these beings incarnate from nowhere... Chips (branded and local), Strawberries (packs costing a million where underneath they sneak in rotten and unripe ones!), peanuts, dusting feather sticks, and the list goes on. And then one new species came into view... he showcased his stuff...honey coloured with a shiny skin covering its perfectly spherical existence and few dried leaves to act as a handle to bunch of 5-6 Raspberries. He called it with some local name. I said “huh?” trying to identify the thing in the dim halogen glow of the street lights. He replied in a eager/agitated tone of a all knowing person trying to give new gyaan to a mortal like me “Raspberry Raspberry!!” “2 bunch for Rs20”. I was trying to figure out its real worth and took some time calculating how much do i wanna spend and he took it for some silent bargaining and said “3 for 20”, and i was still lost in thoughts about raspberry, “have i ever eaten that”, “ that looks like raw baby tomatoes”... and he quickly shrieked “ok, baba 4 for 20”. And then Mani came into picture and said “how much should we take?” “20 will be too much na” and he again lowered value and said “ok, take 5 for 20” and in the rush of things and adding to the rush “madam, please take it quick, the signals gone green” alerted the driver and I blurted out “ok, give for 10, 2 for 10” and Mani glared “what a fool, he was giving 5 for 20!!!”. I said “fine fine, just take this 10” and we got 2 peculiar looking bunches... firsts we going to taste.
I expected it to taste sweet and like a berry but as I and my buddy took our first raspberries, I let out a Yuck!!!... it tasted more like a raw tomato with a peculiar raw veggie taste and almost artificial flavouring... and i wiped my tongue and lips ... i couldn’t stand the taste...and there goes Mani, “Hmm, Raspberry Tart, I’ve heard of it and it tastes good...hmmm I like it” “ok, great then, you have all of it” I say through my twitched face, my taste buds still trying to recover from the horrible experience. And so here’s Mani yumming away on the horrible berries, and I thank my 4th and 5th senses (my taste buds and my nose) for such an immediate and strong reflex because otherwise I would have been at the receiving end of what was to come...
Now let’s reflect on the power and confidence the plastic money gives, very convenient and thanks to its user-friendly nature I still don’t know how to write a check and find withdrawing money using slips really a pain in the ass. But mind you, I am all against the use of credit cards, but Debit cards make it all the more easier and safer. So with just 60 bucks in my wallet and a fully loaded Debit cards, we very conveniently enjoyed the Taxi ride and got down at an ATM and paid the driver off with freshly collected cash. Now this ATM is located in a Mall called City Centre, very close to our PG. But as we both are really tired of the day long outing, we decide to head straight to home.
But how can a perfect day end without some munching on roadside edibles. So we headed for a fruit vendor on our way to the man-driven rickshaw stand. We bought some Indian berries; this man has the best (and only) I have seen around. These are much better, juicy, ripe, and crispy and a perfect blend of sweet and sour. And then we hoisted on a rickshaw and asked the rickshaw puller to take us to our PG, near our PG that is. Enjoying the gorgeous breeze on a February evening, we munched on those delicious fruits on our way back home. Oh by the way, if in case you are wondering what we had for lunch, its KFC. Well there is a reason why I am going into detail of what passed mine and Mani’s digestive tracts. So please bear with me.
We got to our dearest one room heaven and checked out our buys. Mani was fast gobbling down more berries then I did. Point to be noted. And then we had dinner and like any usual day, our day ended. Next morning, which was a Sunday, we woke up late...Oh the luxury of sleeping into a late morning! Then we had breakfast, chowmein, duly served to us and the calling, serving as a wake-up alarm. Then we got engaged in our weekend chores, Mani went to attend a long nature’s-call, very normal of a healthy human being. And then after washing up and all, we sat down for lunch... Chicken curry being the dish of the day, Sunday after Sunday. And then as we lazed around in the non-air-conditioned afternoon, the evil curse struck Mani, the poor thing. She excused for another long call. And I asked, “Is your stomach upset?” She barely nodded and headed fast for the washroom. And after a couple of hours, there was the same running with constricted muscles fearing a leak. With every visit, the consistency of the download got thinner and thinner. Well, don’t look at me with such bewildered questioning looks, I enquired out of concern and so I know, not that I personally checked for it, eeww no! And by the middle of the night she has made at least 6 trips even after gobbling down, no not berries...but two enteroquinol... such a beautiful name for the Showstopper...hehe! Now like all concerned and well-meaning friends I tried to narrow down on what might have caused this sudden upheaval in the gastrointestinal tracts of my dearest indiscriminate eater. Well to start with the investigation, I tried to check what i have not eaten that she has eaten... coz the evil curse fell upon her only, not me. And eureka!!! I figured, the Satan being none other than the Raspberries. (Now you understand the value of the detailed account!) So the rest of the lil orangish ogres were left to be viewed only and not devoured and there was a strict vigil on what she can push down into her as of now feeble stomach. She defended saying that it’s because of “nazar lagna” while she was eating some guava amidst the crowd. But I deferred being more on the practical side and her delicious Raspberries were convicted as the culprit. And along with handsome donations to the loo...mind if I get a bit more explicitly descriptive, she profusely donated to the air I breathed and I cringed and hid my nose behind whatever safety I could gather and called them Raspberry Farts. Now next time you get attracted to the honey coloured spherical Satans, you would probably say “Hmm, Raspberry Farts, I’ve heard of them!!!” ;D
©Manashi Pathak
This is a story of accusation on the poor lil Raspberry. The tale begins on a very dramatic note on a Traffic Signal in the Great City of Joy, Kolkata. Me and my alter ego, Mani are returning from a whacky afternoon extending to evening of very economic and satisfying round of shopping. We took the not-so-modest means of travel... The Big Yellow Taxi...though Mani was insisting on a commoner mode of Metro Rail. Sometimes I do want some lavishness breaking away from our otherwise “Aam Aadmi” routine of shared autos. Plus I was too tired to go standing and shoving away the crowd and smell their signature odours. So here we are letting our bodies ease up on the dusty spongy seats of the antic Ambassador with a bag full of well invested money. We are chatting up the day’s conquests and what fun we had...and thus adding to our quota of fun. The Taxi hauled over for some time at a signal and as its customary in all signals all over India...in metros specially...suddenly these beings incarnate from nowhere... Chips (branded and local), Strawberries (packs costing a million where underneath they sneak in rotten and unripe ones!), peanuts, dusting feather sticks, and the list goes on. And then one new species came into view... he showcased his stuff...honey coloured with a shiny skin covering its perfectly spherical existence and few dried leaves to act as a handle to bunch of 5-6 Raspberries. He called it with some local name. I said “huh?” trying to identify the thing in the dim halogen glow of the street lights. He replied in a eager/agitated tone of a all knowing person trying to give new gyaan to a mortal like me “Raspberry Raspberry!!” “2 bunch for Rs20”. I was trying to figure out its real worth and took some time calculating how much do i wanna spend and he took it for some silent bargaining and said “3 for 20”, and i was still lost in thoughts about raspberry, “have i ever eaten that”, “ that looks like raw baby tomatoes”... and he quickly shrieked “ok, baba 4 for 20”. And then Mani came into picture and said “how much should we take?” “20 will be too much na” and he again lowered value and said “ok, take 5 for 20” and in the rush of things and adding to the rush “madam, please take it quick, the signals gone green” alerted the driver and I blurted out “ok, give for 10, 2 for 10” and Mani glared “what a fool, he was giving 5 for 20!!!”. I said “fine fine, just take this 10” and we got 2 peculiar looking bunches... firsts we going to taste.
I expected it to taste sweet and like a berry but as I and my buddy took our first raspberries, I let out a Yuck!!!... it tasted more like a raw tomato with a peculiar raw veggie taste and almost artificial flavouring... and i wiped my tongue and lips ... i couldn’t stand the taste...and there goes Mani, “Hmm, Raspberry Tart, I’ve heard of it and it tastes good...hmmm I like it” “ok, great then, you have all of it” I say through my twitched face, my taste buds still trying to recover from the horrible experience. And so here’s Mani yumming away on the horrible berries, and I thank my 4th and 5th senses (my taste buds and my nose) for such an immediate and strong reflex because otherwise I would have been at the receiving end of what was to come...
Now let’s reflect on the power and confidence the plastic money gives, very convenient and thanks to its user-friendly nature I still don’t know how to write a check and find withdrawing money using slips really a pain in the ass. But mind you, I am all against the use of credit cards, but Debit cards make it all the more easier and safer. So with just 60 bucks in my wallet and a fully loaded Debit cards, we very conveniently enjoyed the Taxi ride and got down at an ATM and paid the driver off with freshly collected cash. Now this ATM is located in a Mall called City Centre, very close to our PG. But as we both are really tired of the day long outing, we decide to head straight to home.
But how can a perfect day end without some munching on roadside edibles. So we headed for a fruit vendor on our way to the man-driven rickshaw stand. We bought some Indian berries; this man has the best (and only) I have seen around. These are much better, juicy, ripe, and crispy and a perfect blend of sweet and sour. And then we hoisted on a rickshaw and asked the rickshaw puller to take us to our PG, near our PG that is. Enjoying the gorgeous breeze on a February evening, we munched on those delicious fruits on our way back home. Oh by the way, if in case you are wondering what we had for lunch, its KFC. Well there is a reason why I am going into detail of what passed mine and Mani’s digestive tracts. So please bear with me.
We got to our dearest one room heaven and checked out our buys. Mani was fast gobbling down more berries then I did. Point to be noted. And then we had dinner and like any usual day, our day ended. Next morning, which was a Sunday, we woke up late...Oh the luxury of sleeping into a late morning! Then we had breakfast, chowmein, duly served to us and the calling, serving as a wake-up alarm. Then we got engaged in our weekend chores, Mani went to attend a long nature’s-call, very normal of a healthy human being. And then after washing up and all, we sat down for lunch... Chicken curry being the dish of the day, Sunday after Sunday. And then as we lazed around in the non-air-conditioned afternoon, the evil curse struck Mani, the poor thing. She excused for another long call. And I asked, “Is your stomach upset?” She barely nodded and headed fast for the washroom. And after a couple of hours, there was the same running with constricted muscles fearing a leak. With every visit, the consistency of the download got thinner and thinner. Well, don’t look at me with such bewildered questioning looks, I enquired out of concern and so I know, not that I personally checked for it, eeww no! And by the middle of the night she has made at least 6 trips even after gobbling down, no not berries...but two enteroquinol... such a beautiful name for the Showstopper...hehe! Now like all concerned and well-meaning friends I tried to narrow down on what might have caused this sudden upheaval in the gastrointestinal tracts of my dearest indiscriminate eater. Well to start with the investigation, I tried to check what i have not eaten that she has eaten... coz the evil curse fell upon her only, not me. And eureka!!! I figured, the Satan being none other than the Raspberries. (Now you understand the value of the detailed account!) So the rest of the lil orangish ogres were left to be viewed only and not devoured and there was a strict vigil on what she can push down into her as of now feeble stomach. She defended saying that it’s because of “nazar lagna” while she was eating some guava amidst the crowd. But I deferred being more on the practical side and her delicious Raspberries were convicted as the culprit. And along with handsome donations to the loo...mind if I get a bit more explicitly descriptive, she profusely donated to the air I breathed and I cringed and hid my nose behind whatever safety I could gather and called them Raspberry Farts. Now next time you get attracted to the honey coloured spherical Satans, you would probably say “Hmm, Raspberry Farts, I’ve heard of them!!!” ;D
©Manashi Pathak
1 comment:
u know i tried out a similar species of berries from CK market; was cajoled by the shopkeeper into buying 'em; found them rather yucky, and had no qualms in sharing them with my brethren who dropped in..
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