Glimpses of Joy

Metros in India are distinctly varied from one another, not just linguistically, but also culturally and the way of life one gets to see in them. Since my professional pursuits in the last two decades saw me not only visiting our vintage metros but also afforded a brief sojourn lasting quite a few months each,   I did have opportunities to live and savor the life and culture peculiar to each city. My travel diary of yester years also has reminiscences of my visits to Bengaluru, Pune and certain other T2s like Rajahmundry, Jammu and Guwahati. If I were asked to choose amongst these metros or T2s for, say, a mandatory relocation from Chennai, my choice undoubtedly, would be the City of Joy.

They say, you cry twice when you are here. Entry into the city and a drive through the length and breadth of its sprawling but contrasting shades of prosperity and poverty, with the latter meeting the eye more frequently than the former, makes you wonder why on earth you have descended here, had it not been for the unavoidable tasks at hand. Your mind quickly estimates the time required to make the earliest exit…tickets, availability et al… Flights full…doesn’t matter…try one of those longish red ones chugging out of one of the busiest platforms in the world…. (Are they really red any longer…that’s another matter, will deal separately on the eternally fascinating IR)

Forced to stay put for a few days until you are at least done with onsite work and meetings, glimpses of the large metropolis slowly unfold…the casual eateries in the midst of those gourmet offerings….and you saunter up…hey, that’s not bad after all…a few more days around...you experiment the vintage public transport systems…your pockets hardly ever dwindle…you are pleasantly overwhelmed with the friendly vibes of the common man on the streets…..simple ways of life, yet rooted in deep and contrasting cultures. All work done , time to return and you look out longingly from the black-yellow taxi at the streets, eateries, landmarks, antique modes of life et al passing by and a sudden feeling of remorse envelopes you as you feel you haven’t yet had your fill of the City of Joy!  That’s Kolkata for you.

Early 2005, when the wintry nights were dying out, I found myself in the city, trying to locate an ideal nest after temporarily anchoring at Middleton. The contractual site of the assignment was Salt Lake, so there I went in search of a shelter to operate from. Finding one near the Citi Center, I fixed it up. I had almost settled here conveniently in a few months.  Karunamoyee, Citi Center, Bowlers Den near Nicco Park, Nalban, 89 Cinemas, Hyatt, Stadel, Ambrosia (at Ayyash) et al became a way of life.

A Colleague of mine had just then bought a spacious bungalow with a fairly neat garden in the suburbs at a place called Madhyamgram and was looking out for a suitable tenant for a measly rent .  The incorrigible eccentric that I am, my mind began to toy with the idea of relocating to the rural countryside. The name seemed promising in that pictures of a rural Bengal conjured up in my mind. Relocating to the village would tantamount to near sacrifice of city life and the conveniences associated with it.  Daily assignments at Salt Lake were no great shakes thanks to the easy ways of the laid back bongs out here! In Rome do as Romans do!  A daily commute all the way from the rural countryside to the satellite town would throw up numerous places to see, besides affording exploration of various modes of transport to the city. My outlandish ways were at it once again, when I offered to take up residence there, about 40 km from Salt Lake.

So to Madhyamgram, I shifted at the peak of summer. I decided to give the Company car, a black Indica, and its eccentric driver, a much needed break from each other’s company. Parking it at the Ganguly’s, my ex- landlord, I decided to try out the likes of share autos, mini buses, suburban trains as a daily dose of life.

I must admit, life wasn’t easy though. Getting up at about 6, fetching water from the hand pump in the garden, leaving instructions to the errand boy (this industrious lad, Tiklu, commuted all the way from some Bongaon…almost nearing the land of “Rehmans and Haseenas”, to Madhyamgram to run errands for me and then look for masonry for a living) and then hurrying past the streets to catch the 8.15er through Dum Dum to Ultadanga road. You had an entire cross section of the Kolkata society in the compartments right from office and delivery boys to officers of companies jostling with each other for space. Alighting at Ultadanga road, a perch on the share auto for 10 bucks took one to the Infinity Building near Nalban in quick time. I rate the friendly and efficient Kolkata share autos much better than its Chennai counterparts.  (You seem to be half-perched dangerously on one end of the branch of a tree that is wildly swinging to the blowing winds that also bring UFOs threatening to knock you off coming from the opposite direction. That’s Chennai’s ‘Scare’ auto for you. One dangerous ride on it put me off for ever from these lethal missiles on the road.)

Commuting back home late evening was more challenging at a busy junction like Ultadanga. It was nothing short of getting into packs of sardines like one would do at Kurla to reach Ambarnath during peak hours on a Mumbai evening local. But soon commuting life in the city became routine. The sighting of familiar faces, nodding acknowledgement, chatting off to glory over a conical pack of a mixture of Muris (puffed rice) made the commute rather enjoyable.

On a lazy morning, one could afford to board the mini bus at gram bazaar to take a tour through rural Kolkata to reach the SDF junction in less than 2 hours! I used to indulge in this mode occasionally provided I got to sit on boarding. If you commute standing in Kolkata mini buses, you would soon become an expert in trapeze acts. Either you need to balance yourself by holding on to the slender beading above you with all your fingers or crouch low to hold on to the seat railings. But this also helps save time, since the need to spend an extra morning hour at home to exercise is rendered redundant.

Driving down NH 34 on the Jessore road all the way to Salt Lake, picking up some known faces at Birati, Dum Dum and Rajarhat was also an option I exercised once in a while, especially when preceded by late night booze parties on Park Street. This option, when alone, afforded one a stop near pristine water bodies on the Rajarhat road and blink thro the environs until one was reminded of deadlines looming large in office.

Having the puris for breakfast from the show case of the VLR at Madhyamgram station, or settling for a few rotis near Ultadanga road or as a last resort gobbling up a few hot snacks from Monginis near the work place became the order of the day. The work place afforded the luxury of mid-day meals with the standard constituents, dal , boiled rice and fish!  An egg roll or two at any street corner concluded the day’s intake.

Talking of egg rolls, I deem this to be the symbol of Kolkata! You find these tasty ones rolled up and available at any street corner in the city or the suburb. Only the size and the tastes slightly vary from place to place. The rolls at Kusums in Park Street were quite tasty especially the double egg and chicken rolls. Flury’s egg rolls were also a gourmand’s delight, though expensive. But I would rate the ones rolled out by the lone vendor near the Asiatic Society as the most delicious ones in the city.

The other street corner attractions were the matka chai and the golgappas, the anytime favourites.

For the high end gourmet cuisines of the delectable variety, there was the problem of plenty. While Tangra housed the choicest Chinese foods and wine that befitted a connoisseur,” Oh Calcutta” at Forum on Elgin road dished out genuine regional flavours especially fish. I remember, some years back, a classmate of mine, hosted me a good lunch here. Ever since, my visits here increased. The “Ileash Mach” at the Pearless Inn was a real treat, again, courtesy my bong classmate from Barrackpore.  The Lake area occasionally reminded me of my genesis, though it proved to be a poor substitute to the Park Street extravaganzas. The Stadel in Salt Lake had a decent ambience and good food. Dadu once hosted me a dinner here. Occasional high profile dinner meetings at the trincas and Moulin Rouge (pronounced Moola Roooz) were enjoyable….(the French “ishtyle” entertainment was missing though J) 

I had time to travel on the city’s beautiful Metro on Sundays when I would board the city’s tube at Dum Dum and alight at Jatindas Park to visit a distant relative on Sarat Bose Road. Chandanpur towards the North-west was another place I frequently visited to meet another acquaintance.

I would also rate Kolkata as the best or the most widely railway-networked in India. A stranger to the city would wonder where the madding crowds from a hub like Seladah would disappear in moments, going back home. East up to Midnapore, South up to Kakdwip and Canning, East to the international border and North up to Katwa, the penetration is amazingly wide, reaching out to the districts.  As if these were not enough, suburban lines along the diagonal routes branch out to the North-west, North-east and the South-east of the city. If you divide the city into 4 equal quadrants with Seladah at the centre, all the 3 Qs other than the watery South-west are widely networked.

It was precisely a few weeks before my contractual assignment came to an end that I happened to see “Parineeta”, Sarat Chandra’s novel in cinema. This film is all about “Vintage Calcutta”, most of which still exists to this day. But alas, it was too late to rediscover all the happening places in Parineeta though I had been to a good number of them by that time. I refresh my nostalgic memories of the city by viewing Parineeta occasionally. My romance with the City of Joy continues to this day, with at least half a dozen of my erstwhile Bong colleagues refusing to fade out of my regular communication system. And with a couple of my school classmates entrenched in Kolkata, my bonding with the city is even more strongly cemented.