WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE

“What do you want to be”? A perpetual question that I answered all though my childhood. All my relative whether they were paternal or maternal or even just family friends were asking the same question again and again. There was actually fixed questionnaire that most of them had from the time I was 3 years old and started going to a local kindergarten. It always started with “what is your name”. Most of the times I used to make up a lot of funny professions and told them ambitions like “engineer”, pilot , “doctor” etc depending on my moods. When mood was bad I just used to tell them things like “Ask my mom”, “bus conductor”, “crematorium dead pusher”. Well, I think you guys must have known the kind of bashing I used to receive from my parents. Now that I have started to regress back to my childhood days sometimes all these small things is what I remember.

I was born in an academic family. My father a scientist and mom was a teacher. And as I was the only one I had to go through most of the childhood rigors and expectations alone. I loved it actually. May be I was a loner. A very interesting thing happened when I was studying on class six. I was alone at house in a weekday noon. The resident domestic help was somewhere nearby to our house chatting up with his kin. It was the month of May when generally all types of irritating exams were over and I was actually engrossed in my small Pentium 2 PC writing a bit of my homemade BASIC code as well playing some video games. I heard a crashing noise at the end of the long verandah which actually was the connecting passage between all the rooms within our E-shaped duplex in the south of the city. I was afraid, thinking of the sound and kept quiet. Being all of 12 years old and a very active reader of all action cartoons, I just got hold of the only weapon that I could find and tiptoeing I went ahead to check the source of the sound. My vaunted weapon was a small cricket bat that I was given recently as I was admitted to one of the umpteen cricket training schools in South Kolkata. I mainly came from the end of the passage where we had our living room adjacent to the kitchen. Moving towards the kitchen I can now seen pieces of glass littering the passage right in front of the kitchen door. It was actually a glass flower vase that was kept there on the stool and must fallen and broken in pieces when some one have tried to use the window on the passage beside it to force in. The grill on the window was precisely nipped with some tool leaving out a square hole within the framework.

Reading only cartoons have always earned me the ire of my parents and other people. I was totally addicted to all of them starting from Amazing Spiderman, The Hulk etc and used to love animated films – although there were not many in those days. And one more reason for my parents distaste for my penchant was actually the cost factor. I used to really scour through lot of bookstalls for the latest cartoon strips and sometimes they used to cost a bomb for my government employee parents. As unfortunately two times in my school my parents had been summoned up. My teachers always complained that instead of reading worthwhile matters like text books I used to carry my whole gamut of cartoon and animated treasure along with me to school. Well, what I could have done, I wanted to be like the Hulk – remember my father was a scientist. And sometimes when he really used to give me lots of “do you know” lectures I always used to compare him with the Hulk’s aka Bruce Banner’s monster dad. But then unfortunately for me I never turned green. The only part of my body that used to change color to my utmost shame was the pair of ears when they were boxed mercilessly by my parents. But then I was finding solace in the fact that, Hulk was not a “hulk” when he was a kid. And secretly I used to think that I will eventually turn into a “hulk” when I grew up. Some wishful thinking I had.

After looking at the square for the first time I had the feeling that something is not right. This is not the neighborhood cat trying to steal a joint. Or even some of the street urchins from the nearby slums on some mischief. It registered in my small brain that something much bigger than anything I might have come across is actually happening. I remembered overhearing a conversation between my parents about burglars on prowl and my parents were really worried about the fact that I was always alone for about 3-4 hours during noon time, now that my exams are over. Suddenly I heard a sound like something being dragged along the floor of the living room. Clutching the bat tightly with my sweaty palms I hid just behind our big double door refrigerator, trying to be calm.

A very frail boy of about my age and with mole on the nose, came out the living room dragging in what looked like a make-shift sack made out of the bed sheet that adorns the divan in our living room. He put that sack in front of the holed window and gestured to some outside the same way teacher in our lower kindergarten use to teach us numbers. And the gesture signaled three. I was not sure whether that meant three minutes or three to go. But I was actually looking at the sack. It was loosely tied. And consisted of whatever was there in living room including my father’s astray. I was happy about that part as my father always gave me the bad looks whether I got near that thing. Looking at the sack more intently from my hidden position, I saw a small portion of the Incredible Hulk comic book peeping out. Hmmm… so, Baba had actually hidden the comic book under the living room divan bed sheet and was sitting on that whole day when I was actually combing the house for the same. This was the latest issue where the Bruce the Hulk was actually trying to use Captain America’s body tissue to control the powers within him.

There are some moments in your life which actually makes you do things you never would have done. The next few moments in my life were like that. I picked up my fathers Gillette shaving gel canister from above the fridge and started shaking vigorously. While doing that with my right hand and holding the bat in my left I moved just like I saw Hira – our cat do when she moves in to steal fish. I did not go into the living room, but waited patiently crouching near the door. I again heard the familiar sound of fabric scraping the mosaic floor. I think this time it must be designer curtains that was being used. As the sound came nearer I moved to left of the door in order use the door frame as a small cover. I can see the boy perspiring. He was wearing nothing but just a black brief. Just when he was about the approach the door, I flipped the lever of the shaving gel canister to full flow and jumped in front of him without a noise. I will never forget the look in his eyes. It was sheer terror. Without wasting any more time I aimed the nozzle of the shaving gel towards his eyes and pressed with full might and sideways so that I can hit both the eyes. The scream he gave was really something which again I will never forget. Catching hold of his eyes he was actually writhing on the ground with pain. Hearing his piercing scream, the domestic help Ganesh came running along with the kin that he was chatting just outside our buildings entrance. Now that the rush of adrenalin was gone, I almost fainted in Ganesh’s arms.

Sir…. Sir… SIRRR!! My orderly was now bellowing in my ears. I was snapped out of my afternoon reverie. Looked at the watch and found it was edging towards 4 PM. Me, Punit Narayan Chakroborthy, the Asst. Commissioner of Police, Kolkata now would have to go to the Writer’s Building to meet the politicians for the upcoming general election. I have to report the state security brief to the state home minister Bolai Gope. He knows me. The effect of pure Gillete shaving foam for the eyes is not that good. And Bolai now wears RayBan sunglasses always to hide the discolored pupils. He won the last state assembly election last time while contesting it as an under trial. So I do have to put up a salute for him and address him with reverence. But then he knows me and I think is still afraid about my capability to change colors as in the Hulk. Wandering about how it would feel to change color again I started on towards my scheduled meeting.