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Prahlad Kakkar
Have you ever wondered, that whenever Men sally forth to do Battle in the Hurly Burly of the Market place, they return slightly battered, bruised and broke, bearing the trophies of their misadventures, only to have the Bai or the Baiko, turn a disdainful nose up at the slightly soggy, soft lump of vegetables, and the tough, stringy mutton, belonging to an unfortunate female Bakri, as opposed to a Bakra (one being Me).
"Zameen asman ka farakh hai!" was the dismissive comment when I asked, "What's the difference, mutton is mutton?" "Balls!" she mutters under her breath, "Balls! That's the difference." "But the bloody carcass had them," I exclaim, "I saw them hanging around." "Did you touch them!" says the Bai malevolently. She hates my getting into the kitchen, as she is left to clean up the battlefield later. "No of course not!" I protest. "See!" she pounces triumphant, "they are stitched on to the female carcass! Just to con oversmart, stupid men like you!" Not being sure of my ground, I keep quietand the next time around surreptitiously tug at them `Balls' at the butcher, when I think that the oily, over eager "bugger" is not looking. Sure enough, they are cleverly stitched on.
"Shit!" I think to myself, "how the hell did the Bai become such an expert on Goats Balls!" The possibilities are enormous. Then comes the turn of the Fish. The Bai and the Baiko now totally convinced of their superiority, Poke and Prod my trophies from the smelly, wet Fish market.
Now, I might not be a Bengali Gent, but I still pride myself in recognising a fish from a fowl, and a foul one from a fresh one. Out tumbles my catch of the day. Pomfret, Rawas, Grouper, Prawns and Bombay Duck, or is that politically incorrect and should be Mumbai Duck? The Bai and the Baiko poke around the fish with complete disbelief looking for one foul fish. Not a chance! The Prawns are shelled, the Pomfret filleted, the Rawas cut into perfect squares ready for steaming, the Bombil, deheaded and cleaned in a perfect butterfly.
They justcannot figure out, that after my miserable performance with the vegetables and mutton, how on earth could I buy such perfect Fish! They both look up after muttering to themselves and ask how much I paid for the fish.
Disbelief flashes across their countenance as I mention the amount. The Baiko was about to let it go, when the Bai slyly asked with a blanket of innocence, "How old was the Fishing Bai?" "Bais," I said smugly, three of them, and they are 55, 30 and 21. "Aha!" says the Baiko, "you charmed them." "Seduced! more likely!" hissed the Bai, "You must have patao'd them." I ignored her malevolence and looked smug. The truth is my Fishing Bais are truly beautiful, and it took me almost a year to get on to first name basis with them. I used to go there on Saturday mornings, and chat them up, exchanging gossip, checking out their family lives, generally buying them cups of sweet strong tea, haggling with them for the fish and its price.
One fine day, I just stopped haggling for the fish. This reallyfoxed them, they couldn't figure it out. Was I ill? Angry? Distracted or depressed? They went into a huddle, and refused to charge me! I forced the money on them! And so it has been since then. They look at me trying to judge my mood and tentatively quote a price. When I pay them, they return more change than is due and then ensues a "Take it!" -- "No!" -- "Take it!" -- "No!" scene.
The rest of the buyers are a bit nonplussed as the Fishing Bais have a reputation for being aggressive, nasty and if really provoked, downright violent! I remember once many years ago while buying fish at Sassoon Dock for Prithvi Cafe, I stepped on a Fishing Bai's foot in my enthusiasm to bid for a basket of Prawns. She squealed, whirled around and smacked me with a large Pomfret on the back of my head saying, "Kai Dhapnia Disat Nai Kai! (What! Four eyes can't see, or what!)."
It took me two days and four shampoos to get the smell out of my hair. So, when Lalita's mother and grandmother (that's the youngest one)started giving me dirty looks, when I started chatting her up, I immediately took my youngest Monster to the market and let him loose on them that Saturday. "Conan the Destroyer" lived up to his name. So, now I have lovely Lalita smiling coyly at me while her mother glowers from a distance.
So, there's more to fish than a foul smell! There's a lot of Oomph, some good quality fish and several delightful Saturday mornings. I am just waiting for the day they invite me home! Then I become family.
Prahlad Kakkar is an ad film-maker.
Copyright © 1999 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.
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This story was printed from Net Express located at http://www.expressindia.com. Net Express provides a portal to India, with news from The Indian Express and The Financial Express along with sites on travel and tourism, the entertainment industry, the power sector, the environment and much more.
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