my early friends

As my brother grew,I became more and more vocal,argumentative and independent. Independent mostly in my thoughts....I was an avid reader already,till then reading children's books and magazines.In our tiny family of four,the most common thing available ....books and magazines and 2 newspapers.I read them all.For me books were an escape route,or rather a wide open window,to characters all lifelike,to ideas coming from all corners of the country and the world,for absorbing so many things,good and bad ,all.
Apart from my reading,I had three friends..Khokada-a brilliant student,who joined NASA later,the only son of my Father's friend and colleague..whom I called 'Meshomoshai' and his wife,Khokada's Mother-Mashima,who with her 'paner bata'full of heavenly smelling stuff,was The Best Storyteller ever.Before I read them in unabridged form-she narrated to me the stories of 'BenHur','Lawrence of Arabia' and many other epic tales.I still remember her tiny roly poly frame topped by an ever smiling face,and mouth full of 'sugondhi pan'.
Babluda-we stayed in the same house,he about 5 years older to me and closest of my friends.
He was fabulous at his studies,he later became a Doctor.We would make a telephone out of matchboxes,he and I listening to each other...he standing on the terrace overlooking our 'uthon'.Me in my white slip-or 'peny frock'as my mother and I subsequently called it.
He was so good in maths,even then if he got a little less than what he calculated,Meshomoshai-his Father would scold him.He had an younger brother-Kutu,who once fell from just a couple of steps and broke his arm.He was very irritable and I remember Babluda's 'Thakuma'she was from "Chittagong'and smoked the 'Hunko' and spoke a dialect,which was so difficult to understand.Only my father could speak and understand a bit,since he had stayed and worked in then E.Bengal,now Bangladesh.
Lastly there was Shibuda-the worst student,better looking than these two,a smart ass if there was one.He was the one who first made me aware that I was growing up,when on my 11th year,in the 'gali'leading to our house,he with a few other boys,stopped me,wanting to talk to me in private,while I was coming back from a friend's house,after listening to'Jaimala' or 'Radio Ceylon' since my Father forbade me to listen to them in our house.I was tough and choosy even then,I just told him in no uncertain terms..'soery jao Shibuda..bhalo hobey na'.Of course,after that he ceased to be my friend,...Khokada's family got transfered to kanpur and a year later,my Father got transfered to Gwalior.
I was 12+.