Ban gaya paalak-paneer

*For the first part plz scroll down a bit to get to the previous post.thankzz :)*

Lekin yahaa kuchh aur hi scene thaa….

I set forth for the sabji mandi with a jumbo jholaa, which had enough space for parthiv patel to pass his days inside peacefully.

When I walked on the street to the mandi , skeptical mothers pulled in their little children lest I abduct their child in my badaa jholaa and call them up later :-

”agar apne bacche ki salaamati chahte ho to pooraane khandahar ke peeche 10 lakh rupaye le kar aa jaana “

Poor me I just wanted to buy some non keede waala paalak for my Paalak paneer.Actually my mother needed just 200 gms of spinach but she was sure that I would bring some 50 gm ‘keedaas’ too along with the paalak ; that explained the margin. Maa never trusted me for household jobs, which I used to perform on an annual basis.

Then I was nearing Dubey ji’s residence…He was as always wearing his baniyaan (vest) and watering the weeds and hedgehogs in his lawn garden. Dubey ji worked in some State owned bank and earned enough to support the make up requirements of her two daughters and his wife. The Balding Dubey ji after his 10 to 4 job( It was a govnmt job!! as u might have heard that for the sarkaari employees “baarah baje late nahee aur teen baje bhent nahee”) used to slip in to his baniyaan and lungi and wud look after his garden (?) and check out the street romeos trying to throw some chits or signals for the daughters to pick.

Now as the popular adage goes : “Bald unclejies have beautiful daughters”. And it was so very troooooo for dubey ji *cold sighhhhhh*

His elder daughter was a college goer. She was attending college since I was a child…she did her BCA then her MCA and then MBA from the same deemed university.(soon the university would be renamed after her).
Daily morning as she came out of her house with a chamkeela suit and flowing dupatta, high heels and keeping two note books pressed against her breasts , all the lukkhhaas of the colony used to stare wid there mouths and eyes open as wide as my jholaa.

She had been my ‘Olive oyl’…but there were too many ‘Blutos’ to fight, so I gave up long ago…

Now I could sense that the sabji mandi was near, as I was able to hear the “Bhaavs” of the various vegetables like ki “…kaun see sabji kitne rupaye kilo..”.

The sabji mandi was buzzing with activity as It was the “shaam kaa time” and I could see various worn out unclejies fighting it out wid the vendors for the cheapest possible bhindi and kaddoo or anything else for that matter. These unclejies were sent by their wives to get something for the “raat ki sabji”. As the shade of the sky got darker , the vendors lit up the gas lamps or “petromaxxx” (as they call it) to attract more insects than customers.

“Kyaa chahiye saab” I was disturbed as I was enjoying the site of two fleas mating airborne near the petromaxx.

“errr.. mm.. bhaiyaa paalak kaise diye”

“15 rupaye ke aadhaa kilo…le jaao saab bilkul phreshh hai”

“LOOOT RAHA HAI KYAA TUUUUU….” A tough female roar shook me.
Even the mating fleas “ki bhi phat gayee” and they heavy heartedly separated.

I turned around to see a mighty aunty wearing salwaar kameez which wud be enough to cover the whole Indian team let alone parthiv patel. She must be a punjaabi aunty I speculated.
As you know these soni punjaabi kudiyaas no longer remain a soni kudi after marriage. It has been noted that their age represents their girth. A 26 yr kudi will have his ‘kamariyaa’ measuring around 26 inches and when they reach the age of 38 it burgeons to 38 inches and above.
Talking of the “punjaab da puttars” I remember an incident when I was in my 8th grade.
Their was a marriage hall near my house. One night there was some marriage party going on. I read the glowing neon sign which read...

“Surinder weds Gurinder”

I was confused for who was the dulhaa and who was the bride.( As u know names are not sexually biased in Punjab).
Then next day in my school during the lunch hour I sarcastically recalled this in front of my friends referring to it as probably a GAY marriage as both the names appeared to be masculine to me. Hysterical laughter followed…(we 8th graders were low on sense of humour so we choked our lungs laughing on the lamest of jokes)

Unfortunately there was a “Punjab da pappu” too listening to all this in my group, then he explained me patiently that girls and boys can have the same name too in their clan. It took him full five minutes to explain me all this.
And it’s noteworthy that during the full course of this explanation he was grabbing my collar and punched me every time he encountered any punctuation mark in the sentences he spoke…

So coming back to the mandi .Our desi popeye was done with the bargaining as the Punjabi aunty helped him get the spinach at the cost of dead fleas per kg. As I was nearing my home the thought of paalak paneer enticed me. Anybody could have traced me to my home from the sabji mandi following the trail of drool I left behind.

I barged in to my house…and shouted with excitement

“Maaa ye lo paalak aur pyaaz…… paalak bikul phreshh hai….chalo ab jaldi se banana shuru karo *slurp*” I said rubbing my palms together in anticipation.

“Lekin beta power to hai hi nahee…. Mixer ke binaa paalak ki puree kaisee banegi….ye navraatri ke kaaran power cut huaa hai”

“haiiiiii…….” my mouth was open…

“pataa nahee kab aayegi light…aisaa karti hu paalak kaa soup banaa deti hu” mum came up with an idea.

“Paaaaalakkkkk kaaaa soooooouppp………”

*My heart was bleeding* :(

I was roing khoon ke aansu….Devdaas kahaa hai tu , ruk mai aata hu..