The Bong Connection

Of late, I have developed this strange fascination for anything Bengali - lotsa Bengali friends, discovered some great Bengali dishes, tried out Bengali recipes etc (I just have to mention of a certain Bengali dish made using dal and fish - I don't know what it's called, but its simply awesome). Perhaps the fact that there are quite a few like-minded Bengali folks here has made me 'curiouser and curiouser'. And of course, I do want to go to Calcutta, just to see what the sheer hype is all about - Kolkata being the vestige of literary greatness and all that, you know.

There have been a couple of great links connected to Bongs that I have received of late. One of them has already done the rounds, and has become immensely popular among many of my Bengali friends and relatives. This is a GameMaster special:

When a son is born into a Bengali household, he is gifted with a resonant, sonorous name. Bengali names are wonderful things. They convey majesty and power. A man with a name like Prasenjit, Arunabha or Sukanta is a man who will walk with his head held high, knowing that the world expects great deeds from him, which was why they bestowed the title that is his name upon him.

But it simply will not do for these men to get ahead of themselves. Their swelling confidence needs to be shattered. How can one go about it? This task is left to the mothers of these lads and is accomplished by the simple act of referring to the boy, not by his fine-sounding real name, but by a nickname which Shakti Kapoor would be ashamed to answer to...

This strategy is surprisingly effective. Ask yourself - would you take Professor Rintu seriously? Or put much weight by the opinion of Dr. Bubai? Or march into battle under the command of General Thobla?

This is a truly inspired post; click here to read on. I have a good mind to have a post on Mallu names myself, about all the Pinkys and Happys.

The next link is via DesiPundit, and is about a Bong Harry Potter. Excerpts below:

Our hero is Harihar Poddar — the boy with the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, the only person to have survived the ‘Jahanname Ja’ curse. After the death of his parents Jayanta and Lily Poddar, Hari had been staying at No. 4, Paikpara Row with his uncle Barin Das, aunt Putul and cousin Dudul. However, before he came to know that he was a boy wizard on his 11th birthday, Hari’s only brush with magic was the one time his mashi-mesho had taken him and Dudul to Mahajati Sadan for P.C Sorcar Jr.’s magic show.

Hari’s two closest friends are Haimanti Gangopadhyay and Runu Bijli.

Haimanti is a typical South Calcutta girl, and stays with her parents somewhere near Dover Lane. She is a good student and always tops her class at La Martinere Girls School. She also talks in the typically affected South-Cal Bangla. So whenever she accompanies her bapi to the Gariahat market, she can’t help saying say, “Uff! The road is so kaada-paanch-paanch!”
On the other hand, Runu, as the name suggests, hails from West Bengal’s Medinipur district. As magical an area as any, and not least because of the fact that compared with the rest of the state this district accounts for the highest number of JEE aspirants annually. Runu is the youngest of the six Bijli brothers — namely, the twins Fatik ‘Fonte’ and Gouranga ‘Nonte’, Paresh, Charu and Balai. Runu also has a sister, Ginnia.

Awesome stuff :) !!