So then, 'tis the time for seminars and things academic that usually barely skim the surface of my balding head. Something about book history and palimpsests and pestilence .. or sumsuch, hardly important really, if you go to college to waddle from one end of the bridge to the other, that is. But but but ... strange things are brewing, dear readers. From amid the overcast gloom that academia spreads, from the dusty air of reference books, and the musty feel of too many brains in a packed auditorium - shines a tiny disco-light of decadence. And Sex takes centrestage, shirt unbuttoned, tight pants on.
Indeed, for inexplicably enough, the department has become a sexually charged space overnight. I give you snippets from conversations that have taken place in the last couple of days. Of course, I wasn't present mise en scene, which then gives me complete freedom to embellish.
A certain Mandull(catching hold of 2 unsuspecting truants loitering on the corridor): Aei, amar aaj raate duto chhele laagbe, ektu strong build er chye. Tomra choley esho amar barite raat kore. [Hey, I'm going to need 2 men for the night, preferably strong and well-built. The two of you come over to my place tonight.]
A little later, enter Prof-who-shall-not-be-named-since-I-have-proof-his-family-patrols-blogspot.
Prof-who-shall-not-be-named-since-I-have-proof-his-family-patrols-blogspot: Chhele pawa gyalo? [Have you ... I'll use the word 'procured' for effect .. the boys?]
The Mandull: Hain, eito era dujon. [Yes, these two.]
Prof-who-etc (sizing up truant and now, troubled, boys): Oh good! I thought you'd do with 1, but TWO young,strapping men! Better by far!
The next day, in college.
Prof-with-blogprowling-family to the two students: Tomra raate ghumote perechhile to? [Did you two get any sleep at night?]
Er ... the issue being discussed here was, that a couple of volunteers were required to go to the airport late at night, possibly with Mandull, to pick up some foreign delegates who were arriving for the seminar. [What did you think, you pervert?]
Snippet deux happened during lunch break on the first day of the seminar:
My friend, Starlet and an ageing American delegate with a red face and a jolly disposition, both scrutinising the dessert.
Jolly American delegate (looking at the rosogollas) to Starlet: Is that what you call the gulab jamun or the rosogolla?
Starlet: That's the rosogolla. Would you like to try one?
American delegate: Sure, but what does the word 'rosogolla' mean?
Starlet (without a batting of eyelashes even): Juicy balls.
Jolly delegate (grinning cocksurely): Now, that sounds highly improper!
Starlet(finally looking up from her plate to realise what she's just said): Oh! No! I meant ... (choking)
Mandull(in a state of panic, rushing to salvage the situation): No no! It means juice-golla, that is, juice-zero! yes yes, juice zero!
Nice ol' man(not quite pleased with the new translation, still grinning at Starlet): Oh, but your explanation was more interesting!
*sigh* Perhaps the good man has a friend back home who's a gourmet. He will go and tell his friend that rosogolla means juicy balls. Perhaps that friend will include the meaning in a food guide s/he will write. And then, American tourists will come to Kolkata and ... picture this ... a
friendly American lady enters your nearest Proshiddho Mishtanno Bhandar, goes up to your unassuming man behind the counter and says,"I'd like to taste one of your lovely juicy balls please!"