Ten long years have drifted away since Devdas Mukherjee left the shores of his motherland for England. Today he is returning home after a brief stint at Oxford University. His childhood playmate Parvati is thrilled to hear of his return; finally he will set eyes on the beautiful flower she has blossomed into. Her mother, Shumitra, with her long hair shining in excitement, gazes out the window. Says she, “Methinks I will get Paro and Deva married pronto! Shotti!(Really!)”
Paro, hearing this, lowers her eyes in shyness, her lashes flickering with pleasure.
At Zamindar Narayan Mukherjee’s house, Devdas’s mother Kaushalya awaits the arrival of her beloved son, her arms growing tired holding up the stainless steel puja thali. But no! He has gone to Paro’s house first! To steal a glance at the stained-glass windows that adorn her house! “Sacrilege!” she screams, and flings the puja thali in despair.
Meanwhile, Devdas taps the large brass handle on the door to Paro’s house. Unknown to him, Paro runs from one wing of the house to another, flinging open doors as she flutters past. She drapes a white sheet and twirls around her bedroom. She sways onto the bed, her cheeks caressing the quilt.
Shumitra opens the door to Devdas. All the passion of a young lover flows from him. He seeks to embrace Paro. But how can he, when a fly is infesting the air with its pestilential presence, and trying to sit on her skin? He takes Paro to task.
“Paro, I like not those other living things that try to touch you”, says he ardently.
“Ish! Go then, for I will show my face only when the moon comes!” says Paro.
Shumitra hears this exchange, and vows, “Tonight I will ask Kaushalya and seal this love between Devdas and Paro. Ish! But before that I must perform the dance of death, so that Kaushalya will just not be able to refuse!”
That night, after pirouetting around the Mukherjee’s Mahal fifteen times, when only Kaushalya is left alive and standing, Shumitra proposes the marriage of Devdas and Paro. Kaushalya, for the second time, flings a thali. “Never! Never will my Deva be married off in a household that has less stained-glass than us!”
Shumitra is stupefied, her great teeth are quivering in anger, but gathering her senses, she retorts, “Catastrophe! Cataclysm! Kaushalya, you know not what you say. But I vow to you, that in seven days from now, I will get Paro married into a much richer household, that has not stained-glass, no, but Saint Gobain Glass. Ha!”
That was the spoof. Now enjoy a snippet of the original:
Hey Gargi..loved the spoof. I don’t know why, I was getting the feeling that you were building upto the punchline. I just needed to laugh today, and your post did it. Thanks. 🙂
Hey, thanks, Rachna! Glad it made you laugh!
Lols…thanks for the laughs 😀 ST. Gobain glass indeed!
Thanks for your comment on my blog. Visit often 🙂
Thanks, Damyanti! Am looking forward to the remainder of your alphabetical journey this month!
Ahh! Such a small world. My sister and I were just watching Devdas songs the other day. Love your write up. Your posts are always so great!
Thanks so much, Saumya! Glad you enjoyed it!
Hi Gargi…there is an award for you on my blog.
Hey Rachna! I am sorry for some bizarre reason your comment was sitting in the Spam queue. I don’t know why because I had set you up for auto-approve! Thank you so much for the award, though I saw it very late, but I still love it! Thank you!
Loved your flowing writing style 🙂
Thanks so much, Giribala!