No, this is not about the pipes used for smoking narcotic substances. So, read no further if you misinterpreted the title (I guess anyone could be mistaken. No one I know, but still, we make allowances, we are tolerant.)
The Bengali (Bong, for short) has been widely caricatured in Hindi movies (Of course, not as widely as the Madrasi- a member of the populace which lives south of the Vindhyas. No Malayalees or Tamilians, just Madrasis. Strangely enough, Madras is not even the valid name of a city anymore). The Bengali is a portly, paan-chewing, philosophy-spewing, jovial, lotus-eater, rather incidental to the storyline and introduced primarily for comic relief, which his hilarious accent and very Bong intonations are intended to bring about. As with most stereotypes, this picture is somewhat incomplete.
Now, I assume that you are eager to know the distinguishing features of Bongs, in case you ever encounter one and find yourself at a crippling loss for words, (which is fine, for during most of the conversation you won’t be able to get in a word edgeways) and wish you had spent more time learning about Bongs than you wasted on your loved ones. Never fear, I always champion worthless causes. See, being a Bong myself, I can poke fun at them. You on the other hand have no such privilege, so do arrange your facial expression to one of dignified neutrality- which means you can’t snicker, in the event that I pull off this intended humorous piece. Well, here’s the lowdown on Bongs:
We love food: And food loves us, which explains our ever expanding girth (Corpulence is a sign of opulence, is what we console ourselves with). Of course, a Bong’s culinary preference starts and ends with macher jhol (curried fish). All Bongs eulogize their mothers’ macher jhol. Secret family recipes are handed down from generation to generation and stored in a vault with the family jewels. Imagine a lawyer reading out the will of a rich, recently deceased Bong- “To my eldest son I bequeath the estate worth a gazillion dollars. To my younger son, I leave the family recipe of the macher jhol”. You would think that the eldest son would rejoice and the younger one would curse his fate. Au contraire, people would have to work like beavers to console the crestfallen eldest son and the younger one’s happiness would know no bounds. I bet wars were fought over macher jhol. Bongs tend to be touchy about fish, which would make me a faux Bong. When I tell a Bong about my impeccable record of staunch vegetarianism, he/she does the Ally McBeal eye-popping and jaw-dropping routine. What? No fish? My mother still cries silently into the night, pained about my affliction and prays for full recovery. If a Bong ever takes you out for a treat (which will be seldom) or invites you home, do not turn down the invitation, come what may. You will have the most exquisite, lavish food of your life. Bongs don’t believe in skimping when it comes to food and even the most scrooge-like Bong will turn generous in a restaurant.
We love sports: I think an amendment is due here. We love watching sports, or khela. We have seen every game, know every little detail, every little trivia about every sport, but mostly cricket and football. We know the history of cricket and football, right from the days they were conceived. Again, I’m only a farzi (fraudulent) Bong. I’ve only recently been able to distinguish between Test and one-day cricket and only after India’s twenty-twenty victory have I realized that normal cricket matches are fifty overs long. My knowledge of football is limited to the fact that a ball is kicked around by some men and the point of the game is to kick the ball into a netted thingy. A conversation between a real Bong and me would go thus:
R.B: So, what do you think of David Beckham’s move to L.A?
J.D: David Beckham? Is he related to Victoria Beckham, a.k.a Posh Spice of Spice Girls fame?
R.B: (going on, regardless of my ignoramus status. Turns out, R.B just wanted to show off his own sharp observations) I think….
We love politics: The Bong is a very political animal. He will know even about the most obscure regional parties. He will tell you exactly why someone should win or lose the general elections and will brook no difference of opinion. He will become tremendously hot under the collars while discussing politics and hold a lifelong grudge against you if you don’t support his political party. The homegrown Bong will extol Jyoti Basu and the rest of the reds. How the Commies have managed to stay in power in the state of West Bengal is a mystery, since Bongs are acutely aware of class distinctions and would uphold them at any cost, something contrary to communist ideologies. The Bong will tell you why India is going to the dogs and sit back smugly with an I-told-you-so every time his dire predictions come true and they generally do come true. The Bong will be a Machiavelli in the office arena and get away with playing politics, given his rotund face (it’s been scientifically proven that people trust round faces more easily than other face types).
We love culture: We love books, music and films. Bongs start quoting Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Kafka etc at a very early age. Name a book and they have read it. Ask them something as innocuous as “Who are you?” and they will tell you what deconstructionists, post-modernists and so on theorize. Music means Robindro Songeet, every thing else is noise or distraction. Uttam Kumar was the greatest actor that ever lived. Bongs watch films which are scarcely heard of and will look at you askance if you don’t recognize a film from Kazakhstan which won an award in East Timor. Bengalis are a proud community and will name a Bong of consequence in every field. For instance, say you are discussing a particular enzyme produced by the Dominican Republican sea-gherkin. The Bong will name a third cousin who has a doctorate in the field. Bongs like to think, dream and articulate their ideas, which brings us to their next trait.
We love to talk: The Bong institution of adda has been immortalized in a Manna De song. The word adda has no English or Hindi equivalent that would do justice to this great Bong pastime. The word conversation would suffice, but even as I write “conversation”, the potency of adda is diluted. Bongs simply love to talk. What do they talk about? They talk about any of their aforementioned passions. They will catch hold of hapless pizza delivery guys and advise them on ways to improve the efficiency of their deliveries. They will discuss art with the fellow they just met on the bus or train. They will discuss politics with the taxi driver. The Bong’s milkman, postman etc have all been at one point blessed by the Bong’s verbal largesse. When two Bongs meet, their conversation could fill the pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica and still go strong. They go to great lengths to make their addas gratifying. There’s almost always food, comfy cushions, sometimes alcohol but always a profusion of words.
I know that I stand an excellent chance of being disowned by my own family and being ex-communicated, after this blog. But, I hope some community will adopt me with my vegetarian credentials. Any takers?
The Bengali (Bong, for short) has been widely caricatured in Hindi movies (Of course, not as widely as the Madrasi- a member of the populace which lives south of the Vindhyas. No Malayalees or Tamilians, just Madrasis. Strangely enough, Madras is not even the valid name of a city anymore). The Bengali is a portly, paan-chewing, philosophy-spewing, jovial, lotus-eater, rather incidental to the storyline and introduced primarily for comic relief, which his hilarious accent and very Bong intonations are intended to bring about. As with most stereotypes, this picture is somewhat incomplete.
Now, I assume that you are eager to know the distinguishing features of Bongs, in case you ever encounter one and find yourself at a crippling loss for words, (which is fine, for during most of the conversation you won’t be able to get in a word edgeways) and wish you had spent more time learning about Bongs than you wasted on your loved ones. Never fear, I always champion worthless causes. See, being a Bong myself, I can poke fun at them. You on the other hand have no such privilege, so do arrange your facial expression to one of dignified neutrality- which means you can’t snicker, in the event that I pull off this intended humorous piece. Well, here’s the lowdown on Bongs:
We love food: And food loves us, which explains our ever expanding girth (Corpulence is a sign of opulence, is what we console ourselves with). Of course, a Bong’s culinary preference starts and ends with macher jhol (curried fish). All Bongs eulogize their mothers’ macher jhol. Secret family recipes are handed down from generation to generation and stored in a vault with the family jewels. Imagine a lawyer reading out the will of a rich, recently deceased Bong- “To my eldest son I bequeath the estate worth a gazillion dollars. To my younger son, I leave the family recipe of the macher jhol”. You would think that the eldest son would rejoice and the younger one would curse his fate. Au contraire, people would have to work like beavers to console the crestfallen eldest son and the younger one’s happiness would know no bounds. I bet wars were fought over macher jhol. Bongs tend to be touchy about fish, which would make me a faux Bong. When I tell a Bong about my impeccable record of staunch vegetarianism, he/she does the Ally McBeal eye-popping and jaw-dropping routine. What? No fish? My mother still cries silently into the night, pained about my affliction and prays for full recovery. If a Bong ever takes you out for a treat (which will be seldom) or invites you home, do not turn down the invitation, come what may. You will have the most exquisite, lavish food of your life. Bongs don’t believe in skimping when it comes to food and even the most scrooge-like Bong will turn generous in a restaurant.
We love sports: I think an amendment is due here. We love watching sports, or khela. We have seen every game, know every little detail, every little trivia about every sport, but mostly cricket and football. We know the history of cricket and football, right from the days they were conceived. Again, I’m only a farzi (fraudulent) Bong. I’ve only recently been able to distinguish between Test and one-day cricket and only after India’s twenty-twenty victory have I realized that normal cricket matches are fifty overs long. My knowledge of football is limited to the fact that a ball is kicked around by some men and the point of the game is to kick the ball into a netted thingy. A conversation between a real Bong and me would go thus:
R.B: So, what do you think of David Beckham’s move to L.A?
J.D: David Beckham? Is he related to Victoria Beckham, a.k.a Posh Spice of Spice Girls fame?
R.B: (going on, regardless of my ignoramus status. Turns out, R.B just wanted to show off his own sharp observations) I think….
We love politics: The Bong is a very political animal. He will know even about the most obscure regional parties. He will tell you exactly why someone should win or lose the general elections and will brook no difference of opinion. He will become tremendously hot under the collars while discussing politics and hold a lifelong grudge against you if you don’t support his political party. The homegrown Bong will extol Jyoti Basu and the rest of the reds. How the Commies have managed to stay in power in the state of West Bengal is a mystery, since Bongs are acutely aware of class distinctions and would uphold them at any cost, something contrary to communist ideologies. The Bong will tell you why India is going to the dogs and sit back smugly with an I-told-you-so every time his dire predictions come true and they generally do come true. The Bong will be a Machiavelli in the office arena and get away with playing politics, given his rotund face (it’s been scientifically proven that people trust round faces more easily than other face types).
We love culture: We love books, music and films. Bongs start quoting Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Kafka etc at a very early age. Name a book and they have read it. Ask them something as innocuous as “Who are you?” and they will tell you what deconstructionists, post-modernists and so on theorize. Music means Robindro Songeet, every thing else is noise or distraction. Uttam Kumar was the greatest actor that ever lived. Bongs watch films which are scarcely heard of and will look at you askance if you don’t recognize a film from Kazakhstan which won an award in East Timor. Bengalis are a proud community and will name a Bong of consequence in every field. For instance, say you are discussing a particular enzyme produced by the Dominican Republican sea-gherkin. The Bong will name a third cousin who has a doctorate in the field. Bongs like to think, dream and articulate their ideas, which brings us to their next trait.
We love to talk: The Bong institution of adda has been immortalized in a Manna De song. The word adda has no English or Hindi equivalent that would do justice to this great Bong pastime. The word conversation would suffice, but even as I write “conversation”, the potency of adda is diluted. Bongs simply love to talk. What do they talk about? They talk about any of their aforementioned passions. They will catch hold of hapless pizza delivery guys and advise them on ways to improve the efficiency of their deliveries. They will discuss art with the fellow they just met on the bus or train. They will discuss politics with the taxi driver. The Bong’s milkman, postman etc have all been at one point blessed by the Bong’s verbal largesse. When two Bongs meet, their conversation could fill the pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica and still go strong. They go to great lengths to make their addas gratifying. There’s almost always food, comfy cushions, sometimes alcohol but always a profusion of words.
I know that I stand an excellent chance of being disowned by my own family and being ex-communicated, after this blog. But, I hope some community will adopt me with my vegetarian credentials. Any takers?
