Kanjus Chacha and the Gypsy Girl, Part 1

The Kanjus  Chacha and the Gypsy Girl   (Part I)

This is a continuation of my series  about  NRI chachas that I have met  over the years. This one is somewhat embellished,  more like a “composite”!

Maximum wealth accumulation,  that was Ratan chacha’s motto.

 In grad school in America, we  were all exceedingly poor owing to our measly stipends. Most of us desi students lived in one big apartment complex. Most of us will cook dinner after coming home from school  around  five pm and try to make one satisfying meal with our non-existent cooking skills. Hey, in India, we were raised as bright budding engineers, scientists, mathematicians and such, our mothers and bhabis taking care of all our fastidious  culinary demands.  Here, we could not afford to eat out even at the cafeteria!

We started by staring at frozen mounds of raw chicken that we bought at the grocery store! What the hell do you do with this stuff?

Some of us  were natural –born cooks though. Their  apartments would soon smell of chicken curry and such around six-thirty in the evening.  That’s when Ratan would arrive, make small talk,  admire the food about to be eaten and finally, casually,  grab a small portion for tasting!

 “Chamatkar Murgee Hoyeche! Khub bhalo! Kotha  theke shikhlee?”

(“Excellent Chicken! Very good! Where did you learn all this?”)

Ratan would visit about four or five different apartments  in the evening and  make an entire meal out of small tastes  of chicken curry,  keema curry,   even  sambar and idli and occasionally maaacher jhol.

 Hey, we were not dumb, he was soon nicknamed the “scavenger” and ultimately banished from all apartments during dinnertime.  We heard that he hit the middle-eastern circle later but was soon declared persona non grata.

After he made some moolah as an established academic in America,  he asked his parents for a hook up marriage. The gods  got him  married to a lady doctor in India. Usually,  in this case, the doc migrates to USA, goes for additional schooling to get her US medical license. The transition takes a few years.  But your Ratan  chacha  was not going for  this.

“We are making good money in two different countries. Why spoil that? You stay in Kolkata, I will stay here – I will see you every summer during my summer break”

Hmmm…., less conjugal  bliss but a loadful  of  cash- happiness – Kanjus or what?

(“Loadful” is not a word, I just made that up )

He never allowed his wife to visit  America.

“ You don’t even know anyone here,  sweetheart.  What’s there to see in America anyway! Just some tall buildings! I will go every summer for three months and visit you and our  families  and friends – kill many birds with one stone hahahaha!

Anjoli,  the lady doc, had a great private practice, saving up a pretty stack  for the couple.  Three years into their marriage, she got pregnant. Ratan was joyously making plans to raise the child in India,  saving even more money, when a bombshell hit him.

It was late March. The baby was due in October,  Anjoli’s  ob-gyn doctor said.

Ratan  gasped.  “Are you sure?” he asked the doctor.

Ratan left India in August the previous year.

Ooops! Let’s do some simple math here.

 You know how babies grow, right?

A baby conceived in June, July,  or August this year will not be due in October the following year!

Lots  of screaming ensued over long distance phone calls. Ratan was not going to India any more. But divorcing Anjoli will mean separating from all the doctor’s money !

Give up half of a loadful of cash or live the life of  a jilted mate – for ordinary men, the decision would be easy.

 But our  Kanjus  chacha had to think about this .  For about five years!! That’s when he met the gypsy girl!

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Yes, there are gypsies in America! They migrated from Europe many years ago, many got assimilated, some  not so much. Among the ones that remained  separated from the mainstream,  some  ran  circuses and carnivals, some were in the music business, but there was  a small core that continued their somewhat unusual ways.

Ciara’s mom,  a white girl, eloped to California  with a dashing man she met at a carnival. It turned out to be a  pretty bad deal. The handsome gypsy  man turned out to be a professional hustler and a wife-beater. Ten years and four children later, she escaped  back to her parents in her hometown . Ciara grew up floating between her working class grandparents and her struggling single mom. But she remembered her dad well, she was  a true gypsy at heart.  But  Ratan didn’t know any of this.

(The gypsy girl would change Ratan’s life for  ever. But you have read  the second part to find out!)