Mr. Know All
Debjani, the Relationship Manager at Axis bank is flummoxed why her client fainted upon hearing the words net banking? No, no, no net banking were Supriya’s last words before she keeled over in her chair. She quickly sprinkled some water on Supriya’s face and was relieved when the latter revived and quietly walked out of the bank.
A few days back Supriya had applied for net banking at IDBI bank much to the consternation of her overly protective brother Sanjit, who lived a block away from her house, along with his pretty wife Deepali and their son Bliss.
Strange name Bliss, until one hears the oft repeated explanation. You see Bliss was born ten years after their marriage. So, they had ten long years of bliss, in the making of Bliss as it were. Hence the name Bliss.
But we digress from the narrative. Later that evening when she had informed her brother, she had applied for net banking at IDBI bank, he had had a fit. Then he had spent a good part of an hour talking about the horrors of net banking. Supriya had fallen asleep cradling the phone on her shoulder. All she remembered was her brother droning on rather loudly something about key stroke blogger and Google. She was still confused about Google’s role in the scheme of things and clueless about key stroke blogger.
Determined to find out more about the safety of net banking, she wondered who could patiently allay her concerns. Then she had a brainwave. Who better than Sanjeev, her next-door neighbour! He was a programmer with Oracle, surely, he would know a thing a or two about net security.
The very thought of net banking sent a shiver down her spine, her heart began palpitating and her throat felt constricted as if a python had her neck in a vice like grip. She could almost hear her brother’s voice booming in the room saying repeatedly “Please try to understand the dangers of net banking” “Allow me to finish” “Just a minute” “Hackers will steal all your money, Google will get your personal information with key stroke blogger” “Allow me to finish” “Please try to understand, you won’t have a cent in your account.” “Understood?”
Sometimes she wished Google would be a little less intrusive. What little she knew of Google, the company had trillions of dollars then why will they be interested in the family fortune. Their combined financial net worth could not exceed a quarter of a million dollars.
The sonorous ringing of her phone broke her reverie. She picked it up with growing trepidation, hoping that it was not Sanjit calling again to deliver the second part of the lecture on net banking. She looked at the phone and smiled. It was Ria her daughter, an eminent cardiologist with San Francisco General. She answered the phone and waited for her to say “say ma’ instead of the usual hello. “Say Ma have you got your new passport?” asked Ria. “Yes, I have” replied Supriya. They chatted for a bit and then Ria ended the call as she had to leave for the hospital.
Ria and her husband Sarbojit lived in Palo Alto a posh suburb in San Francisco. They had a son Pete and an adorable daughter Shriti. The little girl was her grandma’s favourite as she had the uncanny knack of picking up for the under dog from an early age. Impressed with Shriti’s eloquence Supriya thought she had the makings of a successful lawyer.
She looked at her watch, too early to call Sanjeev as he came home after 7pm, bit early for dinner, but she was feeling peckish.
So Supriya went to the kitchen cabinet to rummage through it for a suitable snack. She found a packet of Lipton’s cream of chicken soup; which Ria had bought on her last visit. Ah! Cream of chicken, her favourite soup. She emptied the contents of the sachet into a bowl and poured hot water and gave it a vigorous stir. Piping hot soup bowl in hand she went to the living room, sat down on her special couch and began to have the soup. Absolutely delighted with the soup she decided not to switch on the TV but just enjoy the creamy taste of the delicious soup.
After finishing the soup, she decided she would go to Arambagh to purchase a packet of Al Kabir’s special boneless meat to make kasha mangsho for Sanjeev. This was his favourite along with luchi and he only liked boneless meat unlike Supriya who loved to chew the bone and slurp out the marrow from the bone. She would tease Sanjeev and say nearer the bone sweeter the meat, to which Sanjeev always responded “more the meat sweeter for me”.
On the way out of the house her eyes fell on the form for a Debt Fund which Devjani her Relationship Manager at Axis Bank had given her to fill out. There was a 3year lock-in period and the interest was 14% per annum. She wanted to get Ria’s opinion about it. She shuddered at the thought of consulting Sanjit lest he gave her another lecture, this time about horrors of investing in debt funds. Then she wondered if Sanjeev could shed some light on the subject?
Sanjeev, her newfound friend whom she treated as the son she never had. Supriya loved children and her only regret was that she couldn’t conceive after Ria’s birth. Ideally, she would have liked a dozen babies but a girl and a boy would have been nice she always thought.
What she admired about Sanjeev was his quiet confidence and ever smiling charm no matter what challenges life threw at him. He was about 5 feet 7 inches tall and had a mop of jet-black curly hair. Even though he had studied at Kalyani High School and went on to graduate from Kalyani Engineering College with a B.Tech in Software Engineering he was fluent in English. He never said pro-bab-ly instead of probably nor did he call a cucumber coocumber unlike most Bengali’s.
Sanjeev had to abort his plans for higher studies in America due to the untimely demise of his father, who was the factory manager at Kingfisher Breweries. Thus, after graduating he applied for the post of a programmer at Oracle Kolkata where he was appreciatively accepted as he had graduated top of his class.
Sanjeev had just returned home when his phone rang and he saw it was Supriya’s number. What now he thought? Why was she calling? He answered the phone and shouted out “awesome, that would be just awesome”. You see he had been most cordially invited for lunch by Supriya at 12pm the next day for his favourite kasha mangsho and luchi.
Supriya disconnected the phone with a guilty look for she had an ulterior motive for the invite. She really wanted to consult him about net banking but had avoided mentioning it. Well she could blame it on her age after all she was in her seventies. She immediately dropped the idea of lying for she always spoke the truth regardless of the consequences.
She would tell him the truth. She dreaded net banking for her brother had put the fear of god about net banking nor did she want google to know everything about her. How could Google get to know about her personality from her bank account? It seemed a bit of a stretch but Sanjit had said so and there must be some veracity to his claims.
The next morning Supriya woke up early to defreeze the meat. Ria had sent her an easy recipe to make kasha mangsho in the oven rather than the pressure cooker. Her daughter said the meat was tender and gravy was thick as the onions would dissolve from the heat of the oven. She was eager to try out this new method of cooking.
After putting the meat in the oven Supriya proceeded to knead the refined flour for the luchi. She had tidied the drawing room and applied a fresh coat of lips stick when she saw it was 12pm. The hour produced the man Sanjeev resplendent in a Tommy Hilfiger tee shirt and crocs and then she noticed with dismay his black shorts. Why did the present generation wear shorts instead of trousers? In school from class eight all the students had to wear trousers.
He came in with a big smile and a bouquet of Gladioli. “Mm mm smells good said Sanjeev”. “Oh, you like the fragrance of my new perfume responded Supriya, knowing full well he meant the meat. “Are you kidding I hadn’t noticed it, I meant the kasha mansho. Do I smell mace?” asked Sanjeev handing her the bouquet. “You should not waste money on flowers”, even though she was secretly pleased with the gift.
After she had put the flowers in the two crystal vases on the mantle piece, she brought out two tall glasses of ice-cold melon juice. Sanjeev had plonked down on the sofa nearest the fan and was enjoying the cold drink.
As usual Supriya was beaming. She was positively radiant and was comfortable being herself around Sanjeev. Strange she thought that Sanjeev should’ve that effect on her. She wondered whether all mothers reacted like her in the presence of their adult son? Alas she would never know and the for the umpteenth time envied Rena for having such an adorable son Sanjeev.
Then she blurted out “what is key stroke blogging”? And Sanjeev burst out laughing. “What is so funny?” “Why are you laughing”? “Haven’t you heard of key stroke blogging”? “Surely a programmer with Oracle must know a thing or two about it.”
Sanjeev stopped laughing long enough to utter “logging and not blogging”. Only to be met with another onslaught of disparaging comments and question.
“I did not say logging I said blogging”. “I don’t want to discuss lumberjacks of America” responded Supriya. Can you tell me what is key stroke blogging”? “Do you even know what it is”? Never mind I will ask Sanjit”.
“Aunty key stroke logging or logger is a software when installed on your computer, logs all the key strokes and hackers can get hold of your user name and password.” It’s called key stroke logger and not blogger” explained Sanjeev.
To cover her embarrassment for being proven wrong; for she took pride in the fact that she was rarely wrong, Supriya asked Sanjeev whether he was hungry? He promptly said he was always hungry and ready to eat luchis morning, noon and night.
Supriya proceeded to the kitchen turned on the stove and started to roll out the luchis. When the wok of oil was steaming hot, she gently put in the rolled-out dough in the wok. Then she took a slotted spatula and pressed the center of the luchi so that it would swell up. With the spatula almost touching her chin she pressed in vain but the luchi with a stubborn mind of its own refused to swell up. Disappointed she tossed the luchi aside and rolled out another and put it in the hot oil and this one immediately swelled up. Delighted with the golden-brown orb she took it to the dining room where Sanjeev eagerly awaited the luchi with a steaming mould of meat on a delicately patterned red bone china plate.
Lunch over Supriya asked without any preamble “Why is Google so inquisitive”? “What”? gasped Sanjeev almost choking on the after lunch paan he was relishing and hoping Supriya would offer him another. “Well why does Google wish to know our user name and password especially for internet banking”? “No, they aren’t interested in your user name and password” “Google was a billion-dollar responsible company and if they took your user name and password, they would lose their credibility along with their customers.” “Why had my brother said that Google would get my user name and password so I should not use net banking”? countered Supriya.
Why couldn’t that paranoid brother of hers keep his stupid ideas to himself, thought Sanjeev. “Do you know your brother could be sued for defamation by Google if they got to know what he was saying and according to whom Google knows pretty much everything about everyone” said Sanjeev.
“He can prove it” said Supriya clearly not taking Sanjeev seriously. “Really, how” asked an incredulous Sanjeev. “Well Google can access your gmail account and hackers may hack into your account and presto they have your user name and password said Supriya with a superior look.”
“Allow me to clarify” said Sanjeev. “Hackers and not Google may get your user name and password which is stored in your hard drive should they hack into your laptop.” “Google Chrome like any other browser such as Microsoft’s Internet Explorer or Apple’s Safari has an option to save your user name and password for the user’s convenience”. “These companies won’t risk their reputation and hack into your computer or laptop”. “Clearly your brother is confused as your password is not saved in your gmail account”. “It is saved by the user on your laptop”.
“What is a browser asked Supriya”? “A browser is an application which allows you to browse the worldwide web or the internet such as Chrome, Internet Explorer or Safari” explained Sanjeev. He was getting tired of the conversation so he bid Supriya good bye and went home.
It was the weekend after the baked kasha mangsho luncheon. How quickly the week had gone by thought Supriya. The doorbell broke her reverie and there stood Sanjeev with two bottles of Bira Blonde Beer in hand. She welcomed Sanjeev with a smile really pleased that he had bought beer. Of late she had grown quite fond of Sanjeev and beer; in the order mentioned.
Supriya brought two blue Sea Life beer mugs that her Ria had gifted her to drink the beer. One mug had a picture of a penguin and the other a whale. Sanjeev poured the beer, gave her one mug and placed his mug on the peg table beside him. She took a big swig and asked “Sanjeev why aren’t you drinking”? “I am enjoying the gathia” he said and then proceeded to take a small sip of beer.
They were deep in conversation when the doorbell interrupted them. Supriya opened the door and to her horror and dismay there stood her brother Sanjit along with his wife Deepali.
“Hello Didi”, said Deepali “hope we did not interrupt your beauty sleep”, laughing merrily and stopped short upon seeing Sanjeev, beer mug in hand. “Who is he?” Deepali asked quite accusingly as if Sanjeev was an intruder and not a welcome guest.
“All in good time” “First do sit and tell me what brings you here in the afternoon”? “By the by this is Sanjeev my neighbour”. “He lives in the flat opposite mine” said Supriya.
“Bit early for beer?” said Deepali and looking at Sanjeev added “Isn’t she too old for you? Old enough to be his mother responded Supriya sardonically.
Deeplai looked at Sanjeev and asked him whether he would drink beer with his mother? “No” replied Sanjeev, “She doesn’t like beer, we drink port instead.”
Upon hearing this Deepali’s superior look made way for a subdued look in a matter of seconds. For once she was at a loss for words and quickly snapped shut her gaping mouth. She looked at her Sanjit, visibly annoyed that he had not come to her defence.
The usually vocal Sanjit was strangely quiet. “We won’t interrupt your beer party” “We will talk later” saying that Sanjit walked out of the room. Deepali also did the same looking rather confused by her husband’s reactions.
Just as Supriya was thinking of asking Sanjeev to leave the latter got up and said good bye and left. She felt uneasy. This was not the end of it. If she knew her brother who had an opinion about everything, must have a lot to say about her drinking beer with Sanjeev. Clearly, he was confused and shocked and needed time to marshal his thoughts.
In the mean while Supriya decided to lie down for a bit. She was tired and feeling sleepy. She must have dozed off when she was awakened by the phone ringing. The room was dark and the phone displayed Ria’s number.
Supriya smiled and then her smile froze when she realized it was 6am in San Francisco, tad early for Ria to wake up on a weekend.
“Say Ma why are you drinking beer with strange men in the afternoon”? “Why did you let him in”? “Since when have you started drinking beer”? “Do you know what these men do to a woman after they have gotten her drunk”? “How could you Ma”? I am so worried about you after I got to know from mama.”
“He is not a stranger.” “He is my next-door neighbour Sanjeev” said Supriya. “What’? “Who is he”? asked Ria. “You have met him, my neighbour” responded Supriya. “No, I haven’t” replied Ria. “Yes, you have” countered Supriya.
In the back ground she could hear Shriti pleading her case with Ria. “Let dida be” “She is lonely and needs company just like the rest of us” “She is smart enough to take care of herself” Shriti was saying. Bless her thought Supriya, she was such a sweet caring child.
“He is the one you insist on calling Gautam” said Supriya. “Heaven knows why”? “Oh him”. “Well he doesn’t look like a Sanjeev, he looks like a Gautam,” said a discernibly relaxed Ria. With that she hung up.
Supriya got up with a steely glint in her eyes aghast at her brothers perverted thoughts. It must be his wife. One can’t be a lady just by speaking in accented Bengali and a fake chuckle. How dare he disturb her daughter.
She was determined to give him a piece of her mind. She proceeded to dial Sanjit’s number.
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