Pabitra is an I.A.S. and by far the best among our lot (=group) of five. In our school days we always moved as one body and were popularly famous as ‘Panchabhuta’. The other three were Abinash, Bikash and Chinmoy, who were singled out as ABC by their initials (= first letters of their names).
It was a chance that Pabitra had joined as the SDO in my sub-divisional town when my sister’s marriage was arranged. I had invited ABC. Subsequently we decided to meet at a self-financed luncheon party. Pabitra arranged the government Guest House as its locale. It was called ‘Panchabhut Milani’. Preparation were brisk and the day arrived.
The party was indeed a fete (= festival) as from start to finish (= in toto or entirely) it was Pabitra’s feat: the menu, the baburchi, soft drink-everything. It was contributory.
Pabitra collected us on his staff-car as the Guest House was a little off the town. It was a holiday and the day, selected, left us free to be on our spree (= joyful mood) as there was no official putting up.
As we noisily hurtled (= dashed) into the antechamber, even the orderlies stood gaping, as they noticed their grave and serious boss thus break out. But they understood. We shook hands and embraced. I (Arindam) waved a group photo of our school days superscribed (= written over it) ‘Panchabhut’.
All rushed to have a view, as I remarked, “Look at Pabitra, a thin-necked cock ready for the knife! Could his parents ever divine (= see from before) the son shall turn out so smart and chic, as of now? The girls never bothered to sniff at him even!”
“Oh, yes, there you played the Romeo, indeed,” Pabitra reported appreciative of my humor. “And Chinmoy, what happened to your long hairs?” he put in again.
Bikash dramatized, “Long locks lapping the shoulders like horse-manes, lovelorn (= forsaken by one’s love) looks like Shelley…”
Mitali?” Pabitra asked.
“It’s her marriage that relieved him of the burden on his head,” I said.
Chinmoy absorbed the whole in good humor. We, then, sat over our lunch. The preparations and the service were top, indeed!
The chicken-biriani was a treat and the pudding at the end.
Abinash warned Bikash, who sat next to him, “I admit, brother, the food is contributory, although the quantity you take is not mandatory (= fined by any order). But your parents have a claim on your body, at least!”
It was the round of sweets. Pabitra strongly pleaded that I ought to marry. At this Bikash said in his usual mocking tone, “he can. But do you know, his condition is like an animal that dare not approach the ‘kill’ (= the desired target in hunting) past a tiger.” The brilliant metaphor held others in suspense, even me. Bikash explained, “Arindam loves Mallika, she also loves him. But the tiger-figure’ of his father is the hurdle.”
They all damned me and inspired that I should copy Prithviraj or Othello. “Be bold like Bikash,” said Abinash. “He showers marks on answer-books unbidden (= without being claimed) like water in the rains (= rainy season).”
“Explain,” Pabitra insisted.
Abinash said, “Once in the Central Evaluation he made a bid to bag the maximum copies. The speed was hurricane. I simply wondered; he simply looked up and down and folded the copies…”
“And then?”
“We closed and were to quit when I saw Bikash facing his Head Examiner. The latter was threatening to report against him. Not only wrong answer, in a case he awarded in an answer that only wrote the questions over and over again,” said Abinash.
“Bravo, bravo!” shouted all. Bikash, who was the chief mocker in the party, felt hoodwinked (= overpowered).
It was indeed a memorable lunch for us all.
