“Trick or Treat”-ing: deshi style

Got nothing to do around the last days of October? No friends to give you company? Or simply just in the mood for freaking your neighbours out? Is your middle name “Moron”?

If the answer to all the questions above is “Yes!”, then welcome to the Ultimate Guide to Trick or Treating; deshi style. Sure, our elders think celebrating Halloween tops the list of Unforgivable Crimes commited by Today's Youth (which includes we being infinitley smarter than them); but no one ever denied doing otherwise foreign stuff in a deshi style, in a bid to comemmorate patriotism. Atleast, let them think that.

Now, back to the topic. In the West, trick or treat means getting your friends along dressed in costumes and going from door to door in a neighbourhood asking for sweets. But in this poor country, we have Rule No. 1: You don't call it Trick or Treat. A literal translation will be; “Diben noyto Dhora Khaben”. There's also Rule No. 2: Have fun.

Research on traditional beasts and monsters is essential for the whole affair. Potential candidates include Jiner Baadshas (Emperor of the Genies), “rakhoshs” and corrupted politicians.

In order to act like the Emperor of Genies, just go about to every house in your neighbourhood, ring the doorbell, and once opened go into a trance and start saying random stuff; like their name, their dog's name, and non-random stuff like how totally useless their lives are. However, to strike good luck, they must offer the Baadsha anything from Mimi orange chocolate bars to Ferrero Rocher boxes.

Rakhoshs and politicians are somewhat easier. You will come to realise that they only have one difference; politicians exist and rakhoshs don't. Wear extremely loud clothes (the costumes worn by the cast of That '70s Show serve as prime examples), speak in an extremely lousy accent (to give the impression that you are roaring and growling), and walk about as if you own the country. Oh, throw in a few deers in your backyard while you are at it. Next, take this act of yours along the neighbourhood, walk to every doorstep and speak or roar how you need their valued contribution for local development and what not. People are bound to get the message, realize they simply have no choice, and fill your Candy Bucket with goodies.

Of course, there a few factors that you have to take into consideration. One would be unwanted attention towards your garb, and in general you. To avoid this, clearly state the purpose of your visit if anyone happens to ask you, which is mostly the guards around your place- in regards to the aforementioned Rules- which will be something like, “Bhai, amra ekhane Halloween upolokkhe chocolate shongroho korte eshechi. Ekhon, apne diben noyto dhora khaben”. It sounds that you are mugging for candy (think beder meye groups) but hey, they asked for it.

Secondly, there's always the thing about getting an unexpected reply from neigbours. See, a very polite “No, sorry” is extremely hard to come by nowadays, and you must accept the door being slammed in your face. Or the fact that the neighbour just released his dog on you. Or that you are being taken to your parents by your ear. Or that the Anti-Corruption Comission just got a call from good ol' Aunty two houses away (nice to see you get the point). Thus, in order to avoid such uncomfortable situations, not getting too devoted to the act is suggested. Or tell Aunty that the OTHER Aunty next door handed out much more expensive candy than she did, whichever one works.

Now, that you return home after a long evening, it's time to stash away the costume for next year. After all, the Jiner Baadsha or rakhoshs are not going anywhere, while there's not really a dearth of politicans in this country. It's requested not to have all that sugar in one shot; remember to breath in and breath out in between the bites and have a good supply of insulin nearby. Just in case.

Well, that's all there is. Do send in something for us, will ya?

By Wahid T. Khan