Excited as I was about our adventures in North Sikkim, I dived in and wrote about Lachung and Yumthang. But the first place we visited was Kolkata. That's where the journey really started, and we spent a day there because it is a place close to my heart.My grandmother grew up in Calcutta. Having studied at Loretto Convent in the pre-independence era, she often told us stories about her childhood. One story that stands out in my memory is that of her classes on etiquette, where all the girls were taught to stir sugar into their tea without making a tinkling sound! I always found the idea of girls solemnly stirring tea hilarious, and it was just one of many tales I loved. I remember her talking about having been taught that her handbag must match her shoes (she never wore shoes, only slippers, because she dressed only in saris), and how to pronounce 'waistcoat' properly. Look it up. … [Read more...]
Indian Coffee House
smoke swirlscoffee tastes peculiari drink it anyway, along with something with mustard mainly for the mustard, rather than for the 'something'people stick political posters over the board that says 'SMOKING IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENCE' people ask for ash-trays and get them or they don't ask for ash-trays and they tip ash on the floor, looked on indulgently by waiterstwo old men watch the people around them, silent in the midst of the noiseand we chatter on about our writing and our dreams … [Read more...]
Trams in Kolkata
Yes, I've written about trams before, in a post with the same name as this. But how could I go to Kolkata again and not create some more tram memories?My grandmother often told me about how her father always gave her the fare for first class tram tickets to college and back. Like so many young people, she took a second class ride and used the money she saved to buy little things that young people want but cannot afford.Now, travelling by tram to work or college is absurd. It takes at least twice as long to commute by tram than by any of the other available options, so really, the tram is just something you experience, rather than something you use.My flat-mate in Kolkata and I had once spoken about how these anachronistic trams could be retained without much loss to the city. "They should make a moving cafe and sell it as an experience for tourists," my flat-mate suggested. I … [Read more...]
Varsha and the Kerosene Stove
"So, Mamma, there's no geyser in this place and they've given me a kerosene stove to heat water. What to do?" "Hmm. Okay. What kind of stove is it?" "Mm?" "Does it have a pump?" "No." "Good. Okay. There's one cylindrical thing that's loose. Pull it off. Okay? Now there should be another cylindrical thing with holes. Leave that. There should be a knob on the side that gets the wicks up. Turn it. Did the wicks come? No? Okay. Take off the next cylindrical thing with holes. Yes, yes, there is another cylindrical thing with holes inside. Now turn the knob. Did the wicks come up? Good. Now light all the wicks." "No, wait. Where do I put the kerosene?" "Slosh it around. Check that it has kerosene in it. It doesn't? Okay. So the base is like a dabba. Open it. The kerosene goes there. Then turn the knob. Light the wicks."Attempt #1"Mamma! The wicks are just a millimetre high and refuse to … [Read more...]
Buying a Fridge
My sister came to Kolkata and helped me buy a fridge. It was a long and detailed exploration, comparing brands, sizes and prices at various places. We wandered around, visiting shop after shop before we finally decided what would suit me and made the purchase. We spoke to my parents that night, relieved."What brand did you buy?" asked my mother. "Haier." "What size?" I told her. I don't remember any more. "How much was it?" "6500." "Do you need a stabilizer for it?" "No, it has an inbuilt one." "How long is its guarantee?" "One year." "Where did you buy it?" "Sarat Bose Road - also called Lansdowne Road." "Did they deliver it home?" "Yes, I've started using it already!"The next morning, my mother called my grandmother and said, happily, "Varsha bought a new fridge!" "Oh!" said my grandmother, excited. "What colour?" "Hmm." The one question my mother never thought of asking. … [Read more...]
The First Year Away
I remember the time the house got flooded and I put my mattress up on the fridge. I shared a bed with my flatmate, and we watched dead cockroaches, plastic bags and coconut shells floating around us.I remember the time when a thief came to my window in the middle of the night. He did not make a sound, but I woke up and saw a man with a stick at my window, reaching into my room. I was too scared to scream.I remember the time when a cat jumped on my feet when I was in bed. A white cat. In the middle of the night. It woke me up and streaked past. I wonder how I was sane enough not to think that it was a ghost.I remember the time I fell down a manhole.I remember the time when a bag - with my PAN card, library books, library card and wallet - were stolen from my room during the course of the night.I remember how I woke up with a huge cockroach on my face. I picked it up, threw it … [Read more...]
Trams in Kolkata
The first time I went to Kolkata, I also went to Darjeeling. I was much younger then, and I was really just visiting my father's city, the place he grew up. We went in a tram, of course, and in Darjeeling, we took a ride in a toy train. Everyone talks about how picturesque that is, something tourists must do in Darjeeling. Returning to Kolkata, I confessed that the tram ride was much more thrilling than the toy train. My father joyfully took us on another tram ride.And so, when friends visited me in Kolkata, I insisted that they take a tram. Not to reach a destination (a certain detachment from the world is essential if you are taking a tram to get somewhere), but for the experience of it.A very dear friend of mine was, as always, the most expressive about the experience. "It's not possible," she said. "What?" "How can a tram go in one direction and all the traffic in the … [Read more...]
‘Stranded’ in Ahmedabad
I remember the time when my father decided to surprise me by coming along with me on my flight to Kolkata. My flight had a stop over at Ahmedabad, and he decided to pop into Ahmedabad to see a friend. Until we reached Ahmedabad, things were happy and smooth. I was duly surprised, duly happy with the surprise and duly content with the idea of continuing my journey alone from there.We took off at Ahmedabad -- and landed immediately. Bird-hit. As far as I'm concerned, bird-hits belong to faded hoardings put up at airports by the air force as warnings. They don't belong to reality.Whether the bird-hit was real or not, I don't know. The newspapers the next day said 'Suspected bird-hit' and commended the pilot for having decided to land even though he wasn't sure, keeping in mind the safety of the passengers. What I do know is that the hasty landing caused a tyre to be punctured and, of … [Read more...]
Local Trains
I have a distinct memory of a ride in a local train when I was two years old. I remember crazy traffic on Mumbai roads - the reason why my parents chose to take a local train even though they were with two young children. I remember boarding the local with my mother, somehow. I remember that a gentleman - who I distinctly categorised as a 'kind uncle' - put me on the luggage rack, out of harm's way. I remember wide-eyed, yet dry-eyed, fear as I looked down at more people than my childish brain could process.I'm sure time has embellished the memory, but that was my idea of a 'crowded' local train. Fourteen years later, when people warned me that the local train from Kharagpur to Kolkata would be crowded, I admit I was more than a little nervous. I dressed simply - no loose clothes that could get caught in other people's things. I carried no luggage at all because I've heard horror … [Read more...]
Flat-Hunting
I think flat-hunting is one of those jobs that is most tedious, yet most adventurous, when done alone.After one year in Calcutta, armed with my knowledge of Bangla (largely restricted to daily words like clothes, dishes, wash, pillow, etc.), I decided to hunt for a flat. Approaching brokers made me realise that my vocabulary got me nowhere in the world outside my home, and I took to saying that I did not speak Bangla at all.One enthusiastic broker was excited at this rare opportunity to show off his Hindi, which bordered so much on Bangla that I was able to understand it despite his thick accent. He engaged me in long conversations and was delighted that I loved his Calcutta and the people of his land. Growing steadily more excited, he said, "You want an appointment, no?""Sorry?"He smiled knowledgeably at me. "Students like appointments, correct?"Bewildered, I made a … [Read more...]