Rehan.

The Friday night after an overall interesting week, I am supposed to leave town and go to Durgapur. Reason: My boudi has given birth to a daughter. Another kid in the house. Another reason for a trip outside Kolkata. And let me mention this, I'm pretty city-sick (for the lack of a better term). Meaning, I don't agree with the idea of leaving Kolkata every now and then. Especially when it comes to going on a trip with my parents. Simply put, it gets boring.

But anyway, Durgapur is a place I like. Reason 1: Mesho doesn't irritate. 2: I've got dada there. He's fun to hangout/in with. 3: Boudi also happens to be a real good company. Quirky and jolly. Talkative. Young. I like. 4: There's bhai (bhaipo), my brother's son (Rehan; about whom this post is). However, until Friday I thought even he could be badgering. Turned out differently for the good.

So, you know, this opening of a blog and running into prolonged conversations, trying to be vulnerable, all of those are for a reason. I want my old-self back. And a part of my old-self was to be very fond of kids. I was equally liked by them. And I thought of it as a very positive attribute to one's character. I again do. Rather, still do. Whatever.

Friday night we reached Durgapur...had dinner...got to know that I've downsized...etcetera etcetera, till suddenly Rehan comes to me and says he wants to play the fight game. One in which you let your younger brother hit you, hurl curses at you, be Ben 10-ish or Chota Bheem-ish, so that in the end he can be the superhero, and you the tortured villain. But, I break a rule. I hit back.

Nevermind. I'm not too harsh though. While we were at it, I was told to get him to sleep. AND I COULDN'T DO THAT. It was harder than cracking the IIT Exam. It gets worse at the part when after your consecutive failures, your masi, yes! MASI, that woman who masters at afternoon gossips with your mother over the phone, making your entry to hell a hell lot smoother, triumphs over you at something. Your blood boils at the thought.

But my new life guarantees protection against these downs. So, I take a resolution to prove my worth this time. I decide that I will make Rehan sleep some way or the other.

I had tried a method before, to as him directly to go to sleep. And, of course, without question that became the reason behind my failure.

So this time it has to be different. I have to use the Brahmastra: Storytelling.

I'm getting better at conversations these days. And this would be my first test. I'll make up stories.

Adding to my determination was the fact that I had seen the video of Tomas Jech (who I fan-mailed 3 days back and he hasn't responded yet) and was utterly inspired by the idea of being spontaneous and vulnerable. Proudly insecure. I could dramatise my body language as I told Rehan a story.

And so I did. What followed was a fictional collection of random things stringed to form a nice bedtime story (nice because I got him to sleep) that finally drove Rehan into sweet slumber.

And he had become a fan. Next morning, he wasn't ready to let me go, not even for a second. I had to be with him, do crazy stuff, build up newer stories as he joined in with laughter as every one of them came to an end. He loved my performance. Sometimes he was shit scared of the spooky sci-fi accounts that I made up. However, in the end he would ask me, "Ei shob michi-michi na?" ("Whatever you're saying is fictional, right?") But, he would still believe in the make-believe world. He enjoyed it.

One of those sci-fi stories led to the invention of the fictional camera that as per what I told Rehan was following all of his moves. (I guess I was subconsciously inspired by our short-film idea. The one that was recently posted.) So, assisted by that camera I could also, as I unraveled the umpteen stories, teach him manners and guide him to do stuff. Like for instance, he was not wanting to have lunch. Motu and Patlu mattered more. So that's when I told him that the camera was on it's watch. And if he did not have lunch then it'd inform the 100 deadly prisoners (one more of my fictional inventions that day) at the nearest police station, and they would all come with their guns and swords and kill Rehan. He was horrified at the thought of it. Instantly, he rose and had his lunch. Everybody in the house was awestruck. It was never that easy. Haha. But not to me. It was handled, baade aram se.

Eventually, a lot of stories followed. On many occasions that day, Rehan was obedient. Something that is rare in kids his age. Although he is generally a bit of the obedient type, but the last few days under me was exceptional.

He wouldn't play without me, wouldn't watch TV without me, wouldn't brush his teeth without me, wouldn't go to sleep without me, and the day I was leaving for Kolkata, he wouldn't let go off me. He got emotional, but even under his emotions he was smart enough to smell the booze that I had on the last day of my stay at Durgapur. Nobody observed, but he did. He went, " Your mouth stinks. You don't brush properly." My brother broke into a laughter hearing that. Gladly, there was noone else in that room save the three of us. -_-

But overall, I had learnt a lot interacting with him. I can now tell stories more freely, more dramatically. Illustrious is something that I always wanted to be. Thanks to Rehan, I'm getting closer to it. Atleast while handling real-life situations.

You'd love to meet him. I don't know about a few years later, but now he is a cuddly mass of flesh. Smart. Eloquent. And there when I needed him most. :-)

The part where we (okay, I. I was trying to be selfless) took selfies. Of course, the smaller one is Rehan.