My closest friend as I was growing up into my teens was Bicchu. We made detergent and radio receivers, ring modulators and hexadecimal poetry. We made a lot of music together, he on his mandolin and keyboards, me on my guitar. We also used cups, saucers, buckets, steel dinner plates, pretty much anything we could use to make “noise” with. Mom's knitting needles would be our drumsticks, and we would hide when we realized we had dented all the utensils in the kitchen with our banging. We would experiment with everything, from substances that made you feel and perceive differently to how classic love songs sounded when speeded up to three times their pace.
Bicchu is my Jethu’s elder son, and that makes him, I guess, your Jethu. I have never solved the riddle of bengali names for relatives. For me all elder males who were not brothers or cousins were Kaku, and all elder females were Mashi. So I had these several married couples who were Kakus and Mashi’s, much to the disapproval of everyone, since Kaku’s wife is Kakima, and Mashi’s husband is Mesho. Life is terribly complicated.
Anyway, here are some pictures of the sun and sunspots that Bicchu took ten years back.