Budi’s Confessions

Those days! I would be rampaging around the small flat on the second floor, always up to some mischief or other. After Babi didi and Runu didi left for office, I would be left alone with Baba and Ma. So as long as they were there I wanted to tease them as much as I could - hiding their socks under the bed or peeling off their rubber bands from their hair or going near the emersion rod, where bathing water was getting heated in plastic buckets (It was strictly forbidden for me to go near it). They would all be shouting at me. Poor Ma - she would be in the kitchen preparing breakfast and filling their tiffin dabbas. In this melee, Baba while reading his newspaper would intermittently chide Ma for wasting his money on that costly book, which she did not read.

Ma had taken up the challenge of teaching me toilet habits and spent hours with me in the toilet. She had succeeded in her mission and had taken up the new challenge of making me a retriever. She would be giving me commands all day - “Budu, go fetch my slippers, or Budu, pick up the newspaper from the landing” and I would be running her errands. But then, Babi didi entered her domain - taking me under her benevolent wings and upsetting Ma’s plans, as Ma believed that there could not be two teachers at the same time.

Babi didi would enter the house in the evening with her bag full of tempting things. She would take out a mini bar of chocolate and dangle it over my head, making me jump higher and higher to grab it, till the whole house gathered around us to watch the spectacular show of my acrobatics. In the end Babi didi would let me have it but the damage was done to my good name, as the sobriquet “Jumping Jack and Monkey Boy” got attached to my name. As if that was not enough! The next day Baba would burst the bomb shell that my poop came out wrapped in chocolate paper. Oh! What a shame, in my excitement I had eaten the chocolate with the wrapper.

At other times Babi didi brought for me squeaking toys - of all size, shape and character. There was this duck family…a mother duck and her three bite size babies, and all of them squeaked. Inquisitive as I am, I would mouth each baby duck one by one and rampage around the house from room to room. Ma would comment “Oh! what sweet music Budu is creating”. Soon the music would stop, I had found out the secret of their voice. In utter dismay I would make some forced attempts to make them squeak again but they would not make any sound anymore. Then I would go to Babi didi looking miserable and make her promise to buy me more toys.

Some days Babi didi would enter the house with balloons. Obviously they were for me. But instead of giving them to me, she would start tossing them into the air. Then Runu didi, Chotu didi and even Ma would join in playing volleyball, tossing from one corner to the other with much haa haa and hoo hoo. I would be sprinting in the centre like that jackal of the sour grapes. At last it came into my possession but before I could feel it, I would hear a loud bang, leaving me dazed. Babi didi would promise to buy me better quality balloons next time.

But the most bizarre thing happened in the night. After dinner she would grab me and take me to mother, asking her to put me to sleep by thumping my body while singing a lullaby. Ma would make excuses that she had long forgotten them. But Babi didi always had a way to get what she wanted. At last Ma would sing a filmy song by Kishore Kumar, something like this…
Munna bada pyara,
Mummy ka dulara, Koi kahe chand, koi Ankh ka tara.

It would take me some time to understand what was happening with me. Do we need thumping for going to sleep? Moreover, how could I go to sleep when others were awake? Even if I was just a puppy then, I still saw myself as the watchman of the house. I could not submit to Babi didi’s utopian ideas. I would wiggle out of Ma’s hands with a high jump on the floor and then run helter skelter to the front room - Babi didi chasing me, raising an alarm.

Babi didi always had an infinite stamina. She used to work on the computer till late at night (sometimes early hours of the morning) while I sat on the floor facing her - my eyes heavy with sleep. And she rewarded me for keeping her company by sharing her midnight snack – CHOCOLATES…

Budi the Prankster

Baba while introducing me to others has a favourite line “Ami Budi ke pushinee, Budi amake pusheche”. He wants to say that he is not Budi’s master, but that Budi is his master. If you look at him with a question mark, he would explain...

“Budi decides how much sleep is good for my health. At the crack of dawn, he emerges from his den, jumps on the bed, sniffs me all over my body with his wet nose and then pulls my hand from the shoulder joint. If I turn on the other side to avoid him, presto, he would be there jumping across my body, pawing my face, making it impossible for me to linger in the bed. I have to give him assurance -uthchi re baba uthchi.

It is walking time and Budi is ready to take me out. Out on the road, I merely have the leash in my hand - its Budi who leads me and I just have to follow him.

Back home, we both wait for the newspaper. Everyone knows how irritated and restless I feel on the days the newspaper does not come because of a holiday in the office. I want to unroll the paper first, for its crisp feeling and smell of the newsprint. Thak! the paper hits the balcony floor. We both run to catch it. Budi wins. I am sixty plus, no match for Budi's agility. He runs away with it, making me chase him pleading -Budi, good boy, give it to me.

My pleadings fall on deaf ears. He disappears under the far corner of the bed. I fall pray to his blackmailing tactics. I throw a piece of chocolate, an éclair, a salami or a cocktail sausage - whichever is available at that moment, on the floor. Budi comes out stealthily to take it. That is my moment. I make a dash to retrieve the news paper but alas it has lost its crispness with teeth marks here and there. This is the price I have to pay for adopting the tile khocchor"

Budi Goes Shopping

One day Baba announced that I was grown enough to accompany him for morning walks. And I needed a leash. Next Sunday we all went shopping at Khan Market. The shop was full of attractive items. Ma’s eyes caught some training literature. It seems she had planned great things for me so she picked up a fat book with a glossy cover for teaching me some nice things. After a lot of searching and arguments a red colour velvet neck band was selected. It had a bell and a loop for attaching the leash. Babi didi bought some toys, which I would chew, as I was cutting my milk teeth. I was in Runu didi’s lap and saw many pretty girls eyeing me covetously, dashing smiles at me. I discovered that I liked girls better than boys (My infatuation for girls landed me in such embarrassing situations afterwards).

I started going out with Baba for walks. As I walked the bell tinkled. Once in a while, when Ma’s vegetable stock was exhausted, she would come along with us. We would walk to the fair price vegetable outlet. I waited outside the shop with Baba who would alight his cigarette while Ma selected veggies and fruits. While on our way back home, Baba would engage a Rikshaw. I would perch on Ma’s lap, enjoying the ride very much - wishing the journey never to end. And feeling the happiest babe in the world!

After reading a few pages of that book, Ma gave it up - drawing a final curtain on my formal education. As a result, I became the most spoilt, mischievous and self willed little brat. The list of complaints against me kept on growing, drawing comparison with Rajadada, so gentle was he and here I was a “Tile Khocchhor” (as said by Baba and translated as scoundrel in English). But it was not an abuse, rather a term of endearment - I am quite sure about that. You would have to read about my deeds and doings to decide how you would like to call me.