The Abdullah Dynasty of Kashmiri Homaridae
Arjun Razdan
To Chère Mme R. (C.R.), who finally lent me money, as all mothers should to their sons, and allowed the completion of this nouvelle…
Regió de Catalunya (C.R.) accueillis Raunak Churangoo (C.R.), who flirts with the Chiquitas Redolendas (C.R.), eats the Cannellini Refridos (C.R.) and bathes on the plage of Ciutadella de Retaguardia (C.R.), who takes the train by Rodalies de Catalunya (C.R.) and gets wet in the Calella Rain (C.R.), who tries his hand at the Complementario Ràpid (C.R.) Loto, drinks the Coppa de Rueda (C.R.) wine, sits outside brothels at the Plaça del Creu Rector (C.R.) where passersby ask him for directions if he knows the way to the Castell de la Reina (C.R.), he guides them to the correct direction, but if they ask him the way to the brothel he always guides them to the wrong direction, thinking that the most beautiful girl should not be prise the day he would go there, he shops at the supermarket Consum Refrescos S.A. (C.R.), and photocopies his documents at Les Corts Reserva (C.R.), and stares at the butcher-shop at Calle Robrenyo (C.R.) at his orderly pieces and his juicy (ahem…) wife, and drinks with
1
the bald-man and the naïve son at Café de Rosés (C.R.), and returns to his apartment on the Plaça de Can Rosés (C.R.), 181, Plaça de Can Rosés (C.R.) and goes shopping for oranges at the Rastro de les Corts (C.R.), and late at night walks towards El Poble Sec right till the Calle Roma (C.R.) where he asks for a Spanish translator and two girls from the lift take him to the first floor where a Colombiana Radiante (C.R.) asks him for €151 in cash (including IVE). Roland Cassard (C.R.) nay Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) takes the train to the northern suburb of Rubí Centre (C.R.) where he is going to study the food practices of the local people, especially their propensity to mix charcuterie with shellfish, and especially on the critical question of: whether we should eat snails with their shit or not? He spends a sunny day in the town of Sant Cugat where he looks at the boutique of Calzedonia Reductores (C.R.) a gamine of 13 years coming out, where he takes back the Rodalies de Catalunya (C.R.) to his central pad at 181, Plaça de Can Rosés (C.R.), and sleeps.
Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) flirts with a belle at the station of La Floresta…and when he approaches her with the famous Roland Cassardian (C.R.) line of ‘Excuse-me, where is the way to the…please’, the chiquita responds: ‘Cué….Roméo? (C.R.)’ and Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) steps back at the masculine voice and the brusque manner and says to himself: ‘jamais, encore…’. It is on one morning, jostled by ennui and having tanked up on a whole bottle of Cuenca del Duero Rueda (C.R.), that Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) felt extremely hungry in his apartment at 181, Plaça de Can Rosés (C.R.) and made way quickly down the Gran Via de Carles III to Rambla de les Corts (C.R.), where his Galician awaited him. The Galician had guided him on the first day in Barcelona, drawing a map on a piece of paper:
2
today, he had a grumpy expression as soon as Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) sat down on a matless table in the middle illuminated by the overhead lamp and glitzy reflections from the Jukebox machine. Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) asked for a Polpo à la Gallega to a Camarera Recluta (C.R.) who relayed the message to her boss, and the boss looked in the kitchen and found there was no polpo defrozen, and relayed back the message to Raunak Churangoo (C.R.). Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) asked for something fried, anything fried and the bald Galician man thought a lot, shoved his hand in the fridge, picked up a polythene bag of anchovies and took it to the kitchen, there next to a boiling cauldron of oil, Caldera Recalentara (C.R.) was a big bucket of bouillon in which floated the Kashmiri lobster, H.L.C. Abdullah, otherwise known as Homard ‘Lèche-Cul’ (On lui avait demandé de louer un Maudit, il lui a léché…), the name that came about when neighbours were very concerned for his pellicular health owing to a lice infection, and the local name got attested to his scalp: ‘lish-kyoho?’, lish the Kashmiri name for petit lice which are the precursor to grand lice, called zov such as the Grand Mufti of the Jamia Masjid of Kashmir, Nowhatta Kathi Darwaza Road, Nowhatta, Srinagar, 190003 Kashmir. Homard ‘Lèche-Cul’s’ father was called Fcrique Abdullah, fond of potato pancakes and English girls from the northern suburbs of Rochford, Essex, SS4 1AD UK, from which he found a beautiful Molly and gave birth to a Half Kashmiri-Half English lobster. Their granddad was known as Shake Abdullah, very fond of Banana Shakes when the United Banana Company came running in the early years of 1906 through the town of Macondo. Homard Lèche-Cul Abdullah’s resplendent tentacles stand out of the vat in which he stands lonely and eyes about above the bald pate on which he has a few bristles. The Galician shoves him even more brusquely in a corner, and obfuscates the packing of the polythene bag from which he takes out the eye-out anchovies and plonks them, one-by-one, in the hot oil. The Cacerola Remuante (C.R.) responds with a whimper, to the froth of the sizzling anchovies. The Reclusive Caballero (C.R.) wipes the sweat off his brow, and his green eyes turn over themselves in a Competitive Rumble (C.R.) of rage and apathy. The patron calls his Camarera Reciente
3
(C.R.) and asks her to take the order to the client, all the same excavating the depths of his Congelador Refresco (C.R.), in an absentminded shuffle. The recluta takes the anchovies to Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) without any sauce, and places it with a thump on the matless jukeboxless overheadlampless table, along with a glass of tiède Crianza Rioja (C.R.) that the patron had already poured out for her. Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) devours the caps of the anchovies, which he eats with the bones, because his grandmother Rani Churangoo (C.R.) always taught him that you could eat all bones of animals except the femur bone and being a dutiful Kashmiri petit-fils he always remembered her advice. He savours the Cod Refritters (C.R.) not leaving any trace of his gourmandise on the plate, along with the tiède glass of Crianza Rioja (C.R.) and notes that the boquerones fritos in batter passed tout seul and no need to enlève the crown-shaped cap of arrêtes which had a distinct Crunch Rebontando (C.R.) to it. Raunak Churangoo (C.R.) picks the last of the anchovies, and notes how easy it is to dégage the Crown Rooftops (C.R.) something the two lesbians who confronted the Galician on Calle Roger (C.R.) could not do when he offered them the street, and they thought he was being too Chivalrous Ricaneur (C.R.), because unlike the Kashmiri lobster with his two handles, he was completely bald.
4
