Boro Khala always looks great in a Shaaree (saari). I have seen that no matter what kind of shaaree it is, she can manage well and wear it very organized way. Whether it was a hard new cotton shaaree or silk, she made it look elegant in an effortless way. She knows simple tricks to make all the Shaaree manage well.
If I am not wrong, Shaaree is her favourite gift.
That made me feel good. I realize you can point out a mistake without hurting others.
My Boro Khala is a great cook. People really enjoy her homemade food very much. In our home, sometimes she cooked one or two dishes, and everybody liked them.
My older sister loved her Daal. She used to tell my mom, "You can't make delicious daal. I like the daal that Boro Khala made."
In our home, she was a guest, so whenever she went to the kitchen to make something, I always accompanied her to help. I had no idea about cooking, but I didn't want to leave her alone there. One day, she asked me to put oil in a pan, and I had no idea how much to add. I asked her, and she said, "Just add some." Not knowing better, I started pouring oil drop by drop and kept asking if that was enough. She came over, took the oil bottle from my hand, and poured about a cup into the pan. I knew I wasn't helping much, but I stayed with her until she finished her work in the kitchen.
I thought nobody noticed this. Then one day I heard my Boro Khala telling others, "Whenever I go to the kitchen, Shimul always come with me to help."
She is the eldest daughter of our grandparents. Both my mom and Boro Khala said their father liked Boro Khala the most of all his children. Whenever she asked for something, their dad always brought it without question. Boro Khala said she enjoyed sewing and doing other work on clothes. Whenever she needed things like thread or needles, our grandfather used to buy them for her immediately. She didn't have to share this privilege with any other children.
My mom said that, in her youth, Boro Khala was one of the most beautiful women in town. She looked like the famous actress "Suchorita Sen." My uncle once saw her on the street and fell in love instantly. He then sent her a proposal. My uncle's family was very wealthy and well-known, so everyone was happy with this marriage. Later, my uncle helped my grandparents in many ways.
Majo Khala was my mom's second sister. My mom is in third place among sisters. My grandparents' maternal looks were very different. My grandma was a small, dark-skinned woman, and my grandpa was a tall, fair-skinned man. Mejo Khala was a small and dark-skinned woman, and my mom was fair and tall. My mom said that when people come to choose a bride, they often select my mom instead of mejo khala. It's a South Asian tradition that boys' parents visit the girl's home to see the girl, and if they like her, then the marriage proposal begins.
My older aunt (my mother's older sister) said mejo khala had a very cute face and dark curly hair, like a flower. But South Asian grooms like fair skin. So, my grandparents faced lots of problems for her marriage. So, when a rich family wanted to marry her, our grandparents became very happy and, like other parents, made a big mistake. They were pleased that they had got a groom from a big family, so didn't care to look for more information about the groom. So, in the end, my mejo khala suffered.
In South Asia, all families wanted their bride to work at home for everyone and take care of everything. They don't help her. They believe it's her duty, and she should be happy that she could become a bride of that family. People will be happy to see a mother holding a baby and doing work. No one will go and help her by holding the baby or doing the work.
Mejo khala had 2 sons and 2 daughters. Her daughters were twins. After having a baby, she couldn't find the time to care for her baby. She had to cook for the whole family. The babies used to cry all day. In the rain, they cry and try to crawl on mud to come to their mom. This is how one of my baby daughters became very sick and finally died.
My mejo khala couldn't take this anymore. She cried to her parents. Our grandparents took her back home. I must say they made a very strong decision about their daughter. In South Asia, parents never like to take their daughters back, no matter how much a girl suffers. She had to live with their in-laws.
Majo Khala started living with her parents, and no one in society liked that. Her own siblings also hurt her many times through words. But she was a quite nice lady by nature. She silently stayed and kept helping her parents and, many times, her siblings.
When I was born, my older sister became very sick. Doctors didn't have hope that she would be alive. My parents did everything that anyone suggested. In that situation, my mother didn't have time to look after me. So, my mojo khala came to our house and took care of me and the family. My mother said she couldn't save any of the girls if her sister didn't hold everything in strong hand and take care of me.
Later, she came to visit our house many times. She always brought homemade Bangladesh cake (Pitha) and fruits from her garden. Sometimes, she tried to make jokes with me, but I never understood them and became angry. I thought she was making fun of me.
She liked very spicy food. When she cooked, we had to remind her not to add spice.
When her older son started sending her money from Saudi Arabia, where he used to work, she became delighted. She started lending money to others. Everybody asked her to save money for her future.
She has been staying with her second son in the last few days. I pray to Allah to forgive her and give her Jannat, give her a peaceful after life.
My aunt's nickname is "Khuki" (Which means a small cute kid). I met her when I was very young. I found her a beautiful lady with big eyes and an amazing smile. The best thing she has is her speaking quality. She can become friends with anyone. My uncle is the youngest son of my grandfather (Maternal), so I have seen my aunt very humble with all older people.
I have seen her another role after visiting her home in Cox's Bazaar. She made the house very simple and pleasant. She cooks delicious food for all. She manages her two kids, and later they have one daughter too. I have seen how she cared for everyone, including me. She monitored every person's choices and food habits and prepared food according to that information.
She bought fresh food ingredients for us. Every day she made different traditional kinds of food for us and at the end, she prepared traditional festival food (Like polao, korma, salad and more). She made "Pitha" (traditional Bangladeshi cake) for us too.
I was there for a week, and during this time, cold relations continued between my uncle and cousin. My cousin later showed his anger toward me too. My aunt always talked with everyone, including my cousin and his friend, to minimize the problem; things improved but never vanished.
Later when my aunt met with my mother, she said many good things about me to my mother, like how I behaved with all and helped my aunt with her work etc. I found this is an outstanding quality in her too.
In our country, traditionally, sisters don't like their brother's wife. My mom followed that tradition always. But I always felt my aunt is a great woman. I tried to learn a lot from her. Especially the way she handled the guest and later spoke about them to others.
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| One of my childhood picture |
My mom's older sister lived in "ShantiNagar", Dhaka, Bangladesh. We went to their house from South Kamalapur many times. I was too young to remember much. My aunt's house was big. It was a one-storied building. They had an open space in their house. We use to play there with our cousin sisters. My aunt's youngest daughter was our playmate mostly. she was a little younger than my older sister. I mean her age was in between me and my older sister's age. She was a very sweet, friendly and beautiful girl. Everybody liked her because of her beautiful nature. She was more close to my older sister. They were like close friends. For them, I was too young to be close. So, they used to play together mostly. I am as usual alone.
My cousin's name is Dola. She died of cancer when she was just 17 years old. I still remember some of her conversations (I will write about them later). Her mom, my aunt is in Canada now with her other daughter and grandkids.
They had a big TV (According to those days when most of the people doesn't have any). That big tv had a wooden tv stand, it was like a big box with legs. They use to kept the tv inside that box/case. My parent had given them an eagle (Small wooden maybe) to put it on the tv case/box.
This house had a very big kitchen. My aunt and uncle were food lovers. In their house, we had tasted many delicious foods. Though I don't remember any of them.
Later they moved on. But whenever I had visited Shanti Nagar, I always looked for their house. It was just beside the main road of Shantinagar. I have a small part of my childhood memory, in that house.
