The tale of two Djinnies

Monsoon heralds the beginning of the new academic year and brings joy to all. To me, it announces the end of the party season. My uncles used to drop me back home with a bag full of fresh cucumbers and lots of good wishes for school.

I hated monsoon for that. It brought me back from the cave of Alibaba that was my grandmother’s house. It brought me back to this cruel world of studies from the magic kingdom of stories. Above all, the uncles, my two Jinns would vanish behind a curtain of rain- not from the sky but from my eyes.

My cousins Sushrut Ria and I called grandmother’s home “Magic Kingdom”. As dark clouds vanished and winter approached, the magic would spread its wings. Like intelligence agents, the uncles knew before we did, the dates of our mid term break. Afraid that my mom will deny permission to go to the magic Kingdom, I would plan my escape a week before the Diwali brake.

Bal mama’s shop of electrical appliances was on the way to my school. He used to wait outside his shop in the afternoon. I climbed straight into his car and we would sneak off to an udpi restaurant named Public Café to grab a batata wada. From there, Mahesh mama would smuggle me onto grandmother’s house while Bal mama came back to his shop and pretended he hadn't even seen me coming! The drama ended when my grandmother would make a call to my mom. She was the only person to who could handle my quick tempered mom. Sushrut stayed in Margao. He also would be at the grandmother’s house when I arrived. To this day, neither Sushrut, nor uncles have revealed to anyone how they managed to get him there.

The smuggling operations completed in lunch time, the uncles would go back to their respective shops. Mahesh mama sold refrigerators, washing machines and TVs while Bal Mama was a state wide distributor for tube lights bulbs and wiring and fitting stuff. He was rarely found in his shop and was always behind the wheel of his tempo traveler transporting huge quantities of goods around the state. At times his tempo would be empty and we kids would turn it into a dance floor. He sometimes took us with him on his delivery trips to various cities and villages despite protests from the over protective grandmother. She had a reason to be afraid.

Traveling with Bal mama meant we’d be feasting on outside food.

Food was something Balmama loved. He taught us all the table manners. He took us to the finest of hotels but on one condition. We would have to go home and have dinner properly again, or else grandmother would find out we’d eaten outside.

Bal mama would never say no to a demand for food and fireworks. He would take us to the best fireworks shop in town and just stand there with his hands folded. All we had to do was to point our fingers to the stuff we wanted and it was ours! No questions, no denial. He would quietly takeout his wallet, pay for our shopping and tell our servant Vassant to load the goods in his tempo.

Mahesh mama’s USP was humor. He could make chocolates appear from thin air. When we requested him to teach the trick to us, he said it was a dark magic acquired from one baba Bhannat Dev (literally baba awesomeness) who lived on the hills on the other side of the village. Years later, I found out that this baba awesomeness was the owner of a cashew factory down the hill who sent lots of chocolates and cashews for us with our uncle.

He specialized in giving excuses. This art he taught me and I used it creatively in school and even at the university. If he came home late, it was because he had stopped to ‘mend a punctured bulldozer’ on the way. He sometimes did not have lunch because he had had ‘Gazali fry’ (gazali =Konkani for chit-chat) with his friends. A dish again prepared by the baba on the hill. It simply meant he had eaten out but he disguised the truth so as not to offend our little souls. He cared a lot about people. He spoke truth in disguise, an art I picked up from him and use in my writing!

A friend of Mahesh mama owned an ice-cream parlor. Mahesh mama made sure that the fridge would be full of ice-cream the whole time we were at the Magic Kingdom. The best, often went to Ria for she was the youngest. The second best came to me because Sushrut was the more matured, the one who could ‘understand’. Now both Sushrut and Ria are gone. I get the best!

The fireworks still comes from Bal mama in Diwali, the three cousins now smuggle kids of the uncles to finest restaurants and beaches in Goa preserving their own tradition. (The mature and understand Sushrut pays all the money.) My writ still runs supreme when I visit the Magic Kingdom. The new king size fridge still spills over with ice-creams and Mahesh mama’s daughter wonders how I can make chocolates appear from thin air. I tell her I learnt the art from a white wizard in the hills of Ponda. (my dad). The three cousins now continue to uphold the rules and tradition of their uncles

1. Never brake a promise made to children
2. Never raise your voice in front of children
3. Your wish is my command!

Both my uncles were jinns in every sense of the word. They lived in a house built in 1960s by my grandfather. It was old and leaky and sprawling with cobwebs and lizards. “I hate this house” I had screamed when I was 7. A non poisonous snake was found on the roof exactly above the place I slept at night. Struck by panic, I had demanded a new house on the spot. “I want a new house.” I had shouted at 2 in the morning, refusing to sleep till the uncle had ‘promised’ to built a new house.

"You wanted a new house." Mahesh mama told me one day. "Here it is!"

Even after 17 years, my Jinn had remembered the wish of his little master and fulfilled it!

We have decided to call name it “Ajol” (आजोळ) meaning grandmother’s house. It reinforces the special bond the place shares with us!