Tuesday, November 11, 2014

The last time I spoke those filthy words

Miles Bronson, the American Baptist Missionary, published a rudimentary Assamese dictionary way back in 1867. It took another 33 years for Hemchandra Baruah to compile and publish  the first comprehensive etymological Assamese Dictionary called “Hemkosh” in 1900. That was a far-fetched accomplishment of Late Hemchandra to collect and compile total 22346 words ( as per Wikipedia) to put the tentative Assamese Language on a firm footing, long subdued and battered by the aggressive incursion of Bengali in Assam as its official language.
While compiling the dictionary, Hemchandra was to include some of the common Assamese abuses. One particular fish selling lady was renowned for her caustic tongue and she yelled at anyone who perturbed her temper with the choicest collections from her armoury. So, Hemchandra went straight to the lady, played a few tricks to see her go off and came back with a rich harvest for "Hemkosh".
Near our childhood home, people of a particular ward were equally infamous for abusing words. Particularly, their women folk could quarrel for any trivial issues. After sometime, the issue for which the fight commenced became irrelevant to them and they kept on shouting at each other as if reciting the holy Mantras. It seemed, this was a way to vent off the hardship and agonies which they endured throughout the time they existed as living beings.
One of the reasons for our father to move out from his parental house was to insulate us-the children, from such nearby environment. We didn’t pick up any dirt either and even today, I am too conservative even with close friends to get involved in any loose talks. Perhaps, it was the good upbringing at our home that helped all the brothers and sisters to become good mannered, to excel to some extent in studies and above all learnt the virtues of trying to remain honest in life. We were made to study in candle light and kerosene lamps as the electricity connection to our home got delayed by more than 6 months for my father’s refusal to pay bribe to the state electricity board. Whenever, our skin touched the hot glass surface of the lamp, it burnt off the skin and I , particularly, had many such prized round marks all over my body and more at the two arms. At times, my parents’ daily sermons at the dinner table irked us, but today, do realize how priceless and practical those words were.
I was sipping hot tea, basking in the late afternoon Sunday sun at Durgapur. Suddenly the heated arguments of two shopkeeper gentlemen got transformed into an extravaganza of verbal overdose. In those days, I was trying to familiarize with the Bengali language and thought it was no harm to get used to some less civilized words. Though, I had no intention to compile another Bengali Dictionary, I kept on hearing them while finishing my tea and the Cigarette. ( I left smoking years ago and left it for good instantly one day unlike Mark Twain, who left smoking hundreds of time). As I murmured the words silently in my mind without knowing the proper meaning, suddenly I found the foul words to be extremely powerful and  rhythmic, but  never thought that someday, I would be using them myself !
That evening, I was returning late to Assam Bhavan, at Kolkatta’s Russel Street after attending a party with friends. As, Russel Street was close by, I thought, I would rather walk  to assist my intestine to deal better with the food I had. On my way after some distance , one seemingly innocuous person approached me with a strange offer.
He was a pimp and seeing me, might have thought to be his prospective client. I vehemently rejected his offer and walked along. Hardly few steps ahead, another man blocked my way and I knew both of them were partners in the world’s oldest profession and knew each other. That moment, I really panicked as there was no one nearby to seek help. The two gentlemen grew bolder and one of them held my shoulder from behind.
“Where are you going so fast, Dada “ He smiled and I must tell you that was the ugliest smile  ever I had seen at someone’s face. He knew, I was a stranger to the City of Joy.
Out of fear, I sternly removed his hand and unknowingly shouted with the same words( I am still not aware what those words exactly mean) heard in that Sunday afternoon at Durgapur, but volleyed them with such ferocity, it fizzled the confidence of the two seasoned professionals and made them retreat as I hurried off to the safety of Assam Bhavan.
That was the last time, I used such horrendous words at someone. But those words saved the night of embarrassment for me.

 
You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

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