“Yes maams!!” – came a typical Darjeeling greeting from behind, as Dhiren was getting himself a Saada Paan at the Golai mathi ko Paan Dokan. Walking down there was Thuley, an ironically small man to be named Thuley, but he anyway compensated it with his outstanding speaking skills. To say, if Appa and Tarzan had to breed a child together, we would get the oratory skills of Thuley. No wonder he was about to be elected as the President of the YUMS – Yeta ra Uta Motor syndicate.
Getting back to the story, Thuley seemed extraordinarily happy, which was very unusual as he had been visibly very angry for past few days. Having had to go for CM duty forcefully at the peak of season time hadn’t gone too well with Thuley, but that phase seemed to be over.
“Bhai cigarette le ta ewta” – said Thuley extending his hands towards Mukesh, the Paan Dokan guy, as he quickly returned back to his yet to start conversation with Dhiren asking, “Kun team ho haw maams anta?”
“India” replied Dhiren, as our national team had just routed Taiwan 5-0 in the ongoing Four Nations Cup. Like almost everyone else in Darjeeling, it was apparent Thuley had no clue, he was dumbfounded.
Diren then noticed the Brazillian flag painted on Thule’s cheeks, and inquired, “Gaala ma chai kata banaayo haw maams jhanda?”
It almost felt like Thuley was eagerly awaiting for Dhiren to ask him precisely that question, “Carnival ma haw bro!! Gayenaw timi?” said Thuley, to which Dhiren shook his head depicting a negative gesture.
Dhiren had seen some pics on Facebook on his phone with a cracked screen, and had nearly mistaken it to be the inauguration ceremony of the World Cup.
Though Thuley was aware of Dhiren’s absence from the biggest festival of the World Cup Town, he still went ahead with an expression of disbelief, “Amboooooo teichh maams. Kasto darlagdo progyaam. Heavy miss garechaw ta som”.
Dhiren, as any other ignorant fool, started to question the idea behind the holiest event ever to have been organised on the soil of the World Cup Town. He wondered, “alikati laaj garnu ni haw, shahid haru ko khoon chihaan ma aaloi cha, k ko carnival”?
This might have been the biggest mistake of Dhiren’s life, just that he didn’t see it coming. Afterall, to be challenging someone as knowledged and bright as Thuley, you need to have all your cards right. “K vaneko haw maams? Aabo Gorkhaland ra shahid ko naam ma hagnu ni na jaanu hola?”, said Thuley, with a slightly raised voice. Dhiren couldn’t hold back his stupidity and replied, “hawama k ko carnival. Mukh ma moi chaina, kuni k ma ghiw chahiney harey..”
Thuley’s Brazil flag had already started gaining a reddish texture. He challenged Dhiren by reminding him that people of Darjeeling had the right to celebrate and that they should have such carnivals more often. “Array.. World Cup ho, kina enjoy nagarnu? Gorkhaland na paayinjel kei na celebrate garnu hola?” he furiously retaliated.
Dhiren’s half-baked brain didn’t know how to put his perspective through, he blurted out, “begani shaadi mei Abdulla diwana bhaneko jasto, eating getting nothin leather cap putting Darjeeling ko manche haru.”
Thuley though didn’t have the time or patience to hear inane criticism of the greatest event ever organized from the likes nobodies like Dhiren, dismissing everything Dhiren had just said, Thuley further continued, “Charity ko laagi gareko event ho… Yesko katti paisa Clinical Wheels ma jancha, yaad cha? Haami ta array, the World’s Nicest Place celebrate gareko… Darjeeling chai peaceful thaw vanera dekhaako!!” This time, Thuley even got Mukesh’s support, who shouted, “Ho ni Da.. Thikai ho”, while arranging the films of Paras Paan Masala on the hanger.
“Peaceful Harey!! Aaile pani 200-300 gaari manchey haru jail vitrai hola. Daily police le dhamki dinu chodeko chaina, raids hundai cha, ghar jalaudai cha, peaceful harey? Ama bau police ko dar le bhagera nani haru bichalni bhako cha. Sahid ko nani haru school padaune kharcha na bhayera bizog bhai rako cha. Celebrate na garnu vaneko haina ni.. Celebrate garnu parcha. But kolley k organise gareko, kun motive le gareko, tyo pani ta yaad garnu paryo. Yo sab propaganda ho”, thankfully Dhiren could retain and deliver whatever Prakash Mama had said to him while holding a newspaper inside of his arm, and more thankfully, he could remember the word propaganda, though he didn’t know its meaning. Prakash Mama had earlier in the Morning had briefed Dhiren about how a few close-to-the-power-center had staged theis jamboree as a distraction. The same team who had brilliantly run an Anti-Gorkhaland Campaign during the agitation time. Their words would bother Dhiren more than the aftermath of the Police ko Batti balney roll ko blow.
“Popyaganda na Sopyagyanda, timaru jasto manche le garda bigreko Darjeeling. Kasto normal banaunu hatar pari rao bela ma, peace and development lyaune bato ko khalda ho timaru”, yelled Thuley, who absolutely refused to see any substance or credibility in Dhiren’s arguement.
Dhiren responded with a calm yet obnoxious smile, “Timaaruko ko jhanda, timaaruko team, aafnu ta k cha ra? Hariyo jhanda ko maalik ta minister vayo harey. Gorkhaland Cup chai kahile na huney harey. Gorkhaland Cup khelne team haru sabai Kolkata ma biki sakeko cha harey. Tara j hos, timro Brazil le jitney chance ramro cha.” He didn’t wait for Thuley to reflect on his response and reply to destroy him intellectually.
He carried his bag of Dabur Lal Toothpaste and tos-roti, and started walking to his home.