Today
as I returned to my all-girls’ paid accommodation before lunchtime, the weather
was hot and humid outside and I was feeling extremely unwashed and stinky.
Moreover, I caught cold and having a little bit of sore throat so I decided
that it is going to be my feeling –blue day from hereafter. But then I
remembered that today is Sunday and my “home delivery” kaku will be serving chicken with rice as Sunday-special menu and
this very thought instantly lit up my mind. Though what he serves at every
Sunday is what can best be called as remnants of chicken with mandatory 1 piece
of aloo, floating in insipid “Jhol” or broth but when we (i.e. all my
mess-mates including me) put it into mouth with hot rice, it tastes like
something out-of-this-world. All the girls here starve themselves off from
Sunday morning to hog it up later during noon.
So
this same thought led to me thinking the quintessential role “manghser jhol” has played to shape up
the lives of Bengalis across the country or I can say beyond- boundaries during
Sundays, over the years. Well, I can perfectly remember what it did to my
sister and me when we were mere Childs. Our household is devoid of mutton for
years for the sake of health fad. So in every Sunday morning, when Baba came from bazaar, declaring loudly the ample quantity of chicken he had
brought so that it can cover up for both lunch and dinner for that day, with a
hint of pride in his tone- it used to make me very happy.
While
Didi was considerably big girl then
(at least from my point of view), I later asked her what she used to think of
eating chicken with rice during her childhood (and before I was born) at Sundays.
She assured me by saying that she just felt the same and it was a mini
celebration in the house on weekly basis by having steaming rice with chicken
curry, followed by a glassful of thumbs-up for ma,baba and didi each. 
Anyways, looking back to my childhood days,
when after much anticipation, ma served us with hot rice, followd by shukto (that was almost mandatory) daal, some form of bhaja and then “mangsher
jhol”- cooked in simple, traditional Bengali gastronomy which our mothers-and-aunts
habituated to cook for years with lots of onions, garlic, and grin chilies – it
seemed like a masterpiece in itself in my otherwise bhat-machher jhol fed taste bud during weekdays. The chicken legs
were and still are meant for us two
sisters to eat. We have coaxed our parents to have the leg pieces many a times
for a change but according to them those are the best parts of meat in the body
of a chicken so the minors of the house deserve them. Such an unselfish gesture
which only parents can offer because I am
crazy about chicken legs – be it cooked in Biriyani
or curry and I am very doubtful about my ability that whether I would be
able share them with anybody- well even with my kids (err… maybe I should buy
two chicken so everybody in the home can have one leg each)..
P.S.
- As I don’t know how to cook so there is no way I can share the recipe of manghser jhol with appetizing photos
here in the blog as it would have been the norm. But I promised to myself that
whenever I learn cooking (hoping that would be soon. I mean I will try to make
it happen soon or else it will be included in my next year resolution list) I
will make this dish first and foremost along with finding out how to boil rice.
