PART TWO

The evening adda which occurs in Bangshalochan’s drawing room routinely annihilates many a big name. The Lord Viceroy, the Governor-General, Suren Banerjee, Mohun Bagan, the absolute and supreme Truth; annoying neighbor old man Adhar’s last rites, the new crocodile at Alipore – no topic is spared. For the past seven days, the topic of discussion has been tigers. Things had come to such a pass yesterday that Bangshalochan’s brother-in-law Nagen and his distant cousin Uday had nearly come to blows on it. The other members had restrained them with great difficulty.

Bangshalochan’s drawing room is quite large and well-decorated, meaning it is stuffed with many pictures, mirrors, wardrobes, chairs and other knickknacks. The first thing one notices is a carpet with a portrait embroidered on it – an azure cat on a black background. There was no white wool available during the war, and hence the cat’s present fate. Under the picture, to aid the general public’s comprehension, capital letters in English spell out C-A-T. Under that is the creator’s name : Manini Debi. The mistress of the house. On the far wall is an oil painting of Radha-Krishna. Krishna is standing with Radha under the Kadamb tree, and a large black serpent is coiling around them – yet Radha-Krishna remain utterly unperturbed, because the snake isn’t really a snake, merely an Om sign. Other than that, there are a few pictures of some memsahibs, their bodies suitably covered with sarees in the Brahmo style, thread wigs stuck to their heads with glue paste, thus transforming their hair into flowing black locks. Even after all this, their daring memsahib-ness peeks through and so their noses have been forcibly pierced. The two wall almirahs in the room are stuffed to burst with porcelain dolls and crystal toys. Everything that could not fit into the four loaded almirahs in the upstairs bedroom has found its place here. In addition, there are a multitude of items, viz. the King and Queen’s portraits; a variety of sahibs known or unknown to the Raibahadur, important or otherwise, in frames big and small; a gilt mirror, an almanac, a wall-clock, the Raibahadur’s certificate, a few congratulatory messages, etc.

The adda has begun at its appointed hour this evening. Bangshalochan is yet to return. His closest friend, barrister Binod, is leaning against a bolster on the mattress and reading the paper. Old Kedar Chatterjee sir is dozing with the hookah in his hand. Nagen and Uday are somehow restraining their anger and sitting, ready to pounce on each other at the slightest opportunity.

Unable to sit quietly any longer, Uday said, “Say what you will, a tiger’s measurement can never include its tail. If that be the case, then why can’t women be measured with their hair? My wife’s braid alone is three feet tall. Do you mean to say my wife is eight feet tall?”

Nagen said, “See Udo – we don’t want to listen to you describing your wife. If you want to talk tigers, let’s talk.”