Valentine at Chandni

A forlorn Palash Sen sat pensively looking at the Chaat House wall calendar hanging crooked on the wall. Life had thrown a curve ball and the straight road was not so straight anymore. Wife Ruby was busy on the laptop summoning online strategies to deal with rebellious teens.
Valentine’s Day was round the corner, and their son Toton had run away following a tiff with his parents about the teenage crush he had on fellow Sophomore Moutushi. Mou’s parents, Bulbul and Radhika Pal were in a  similar  predicament.Their daughter was nowhere to be seen since the family drama after a New Year’s bash. While the elders were busy at a party in the school gymnasium Mou and Toton were found alone inside an empty School Bus bouncing in the parking lot.
 
Diabetic and gossip loving Parul Mashi spotted the duo while on one of her frequent arthritic trips to the restroom while a soulful rendition of tranquilizing Rabindra Sangeet was underway indoors. Parul Mashi risked her achy joints and climbed up the precariously bouncing steps of the School Bus, her curiosity overriding all concerns of safety. She hobbled and wobbled and hung on to the railings before managing a peek through the bus window. The sight made her lose her grip and fall with a plump thud on the cold asphalt of the parking lot. The diabetic mashi also had bad hips and the fall made her howl with such ferocity that the bus stopped bouncing, raccoons fled out of garbage cans and the lights turned on in the dark slumberous gymnasium.
 
The weak bellows of the harmonium stopped and the crooner woke up from her slumberous melody. Bhadroloks slowly craned their necks out of half open gymnasium doors pointing their ears towards the howling echo. “Ore Maa Go … Morey Gelam Go.” Was it a mugging? Or a stabbing? The howl certainly sounded familiar. Should the Kurta wearing Shawl wrapped bhadroloks step out in the cold menace. What if the intruder slashed their lovely Silk Kurtas with the cruel blade of a bowie knife? Wives prodded their reluctant mates into action. “Call 911” … “Why don’t you go look from a distance?” … “Ektu Giye Dekho Na … Shona Moni …”
 
The howl continued. Finally a fresh youth, Babla intent on proving his machismo volunteered to investigate and ran towards the howl. What he saw made him howl too. “Ore Baba Go …” Parul Mashi was withering on the asphalt with red saliva dripping out of her paan soaked lips, while two half dressed adolescents fled from the School Bus pulling up their trousers. Soon the community was rife with “What Parul Mashi saw ?” Parul Mashi’s silence and frequent mentions of the Lord made people even more curious and stories began to abound about what happened in the School Bus. One thing was confirmed though, the fleeing pair was Mou and Toton. With rambunctious rumors flooding bhadro leisure the Sen and Pal families were in virtual selusion and Mou and
Toton were nowhere to be found.
 
February 12th was a day everyone was looking forward to. It was the Induz, Valentine Masti 2011 bash at Newark’s Chandni Restaurant organized by the erstwhile organizer Ray Mitra. Induz events were non-profit and the proceeds promoted art and culture among the underprivileged youth in India. The Pal and Sen families were fond of Induz events as were Mou and Toton. Parul Mashi had spent a lifetime spreading gossip and ruining families and careers. However, the escapades of this young duo reminded her of her youth and she choose to remain silent. She was caught under a bullock cart with the fisherman’s son and was soon married off to an unsuspecting NRI from Fremont who had a store selling undergarments. Her forced marriage and bitterness towards happy couples
fueled her thirst for gossip.
 
With her advancing age and bad hips the diabetic Parul Mashi felt a change of heart and decided to practice some Good Karma. She knew the Sen and Pal families well and had their phone numbers. Technology was a blessing. She did not have to talk in her hoarse masculine voice. Instead she texted the Pals and Sens, and Mou and Toton. The message was identical, except they were sent from an unknown number and signed with differentnames. “Dying to see you at the 2011 Valentine Bash at Chandni’s on the 12th”. The Sens message was signed by Toton, the Pals by Mou, and vice versa.
 
Now Phase 2 of Parul Mashi’s K2 plan had to begin. She had to spread a new rumor to divert the public’s attention from Mou and Toton. Widowed matriarch the bossy owner of Sheila’s Boutique was on a month long visit to India. She sent out whispers that Sheila was in India negotiating a costume contract with a Bollywood producer and was likely to make an announcement at the Valentine’s 2011 bash. As February 12 approached, bhadroloks forgot about Mou and Toton and started wondering about Sheila Ki Kahani. Did she land a contract with Karan Johar? Rani Mukherjee? Would she land at the party with Rani in tow ? Induz tickets started selling like hot cakes puzzling Ray.
 
The doorbell rang at the Sen household. Toton had returned. So did Mou at the Pal home. The families closed the door in a hurry and hugged each other in silence. “Thanks for the text”, Toton said. Mou said, “Cool you texted.” The parents were puzzled, they nodded in empathy and were just too happy to have the runaways back home. Nobody questioned the texts though they remained a mystery. The community started looking forward to the
Valentine’s Bash and soon forgot all about Mou and Toton. The Pals and Sens decided to visit each others homefor Valentine away from the public glare planning their own tête- à-tête at Chandni.
 
Parul Mashi ordered a Bhagavad Gita online and prayed for it to arrive before February 12th. The Good Karma must have had some merits. Her sugar level had gone down and the hips were feeling better.