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The 'dak nam '

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In Bengali tradition, the ' dak nam ' is not an uncommon phenomenon. People have two names: dak nam vs bhalo nam. Dak nam can be anything and everything like- Puchko, Buro, Buria, Roltu, Goltu, Chuti, Bubai, Tubai, Tompa, Titli, Tisha, many more, whatever one feels.  These are    basically the embarrassing ones which is popular among the closed family members and few childhood friends. This name may be conferred immediately at the child's birth or may be later after few days when calling 'baby' again and again  might juxtapose with someone elses's baby.  The ' bhalo nam'  on the other hand, is conveyed to the society in a very hubbub ceremony, ' Namkaran' , of laughters and pride, where everyone suggests a name and finally after performing some rituals, an appropriate, meaningful name is given to the child. This name is the identity of the child in the society as well as when he would present himself officially later in his life. The 'dak na...
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MY OLD GRANNY

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She had been sitting unwaveringly for the last two hours now. Not a single drop of tear had rolled down her gentle and wrinkled face. The only words she repeated whenever someone would talk to her were, ‘Good for him. Who would look after him if he had been bedridden? I am too old now.’ He was 97, and still took care of his lady, who was in her 80s. She was sick and had aging, fragile bones. He was, though, sturdy enough to hold her hand and walk her inside the house; he had been her delicate buttress-weak physically but morally strong enough to support her. Even though he was sometimes sick, he had never stepped away from performing his domestic duties towards his better half, children, and grandchildren. She had been away at her daughter’s place for a few days after many years and could not talk to him for the last time. She regretted. But they had been together for 65 years, and now they needed no words to communicate; they just knew each other’s thoughts, and so life went on. ...
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Gen Z AND M(e)-LLENNIAL

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  “Hey blud!! Pass me the ball.” The young boy in his early 20s shouted from the centre of the field. I chose to ignore it, assuming he was screaming at his teammates. I gave him a short glance for his unique raspy voice, which might have happened due to his constant screams for an hour, and returned to the book I was reading. I sat on the bench, emplaced at the farthest corner of the ground. The hoarse voice now sounds very near to me when he enquired harshly about not passing him the ball. The ball was lying near my feet. I noticed it now. I was surprised and replied, ‘What? You were talking to some ‘blud’, maybe your teammate. How am I supposed to know?’. ‘Huh! I was looking at you, and by blud, I meant you.’ ‘My name is not ‘blud.’ I made a rather crabby expression.   ‘OMG! FYI, ‘blud’ means friend. IYKYK .’ He laughed, he mocked, and he ran. ‘BTW, that jacket u wear is gucci.’ He shouted. I replied sternly, ‘No, it's Puma . I cannot afford a Gucci man.’ He stopped and la...
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