An airport is a very interesting place to be in. U get to see all shades of human emotions on full display. And let me tell u that these displays are unadulterated and genuine. Besides I reckon if u are at an international airport like Dubai, I realized culture or for that matter where we come from has a definite bearing on how we react to situations. The Americans swear, the Australians take it easy, the Japanese are surprisingly calm even under tense situations, the Africans (old fat Nigerian ladies in particular in their traditional garb) shout at the top of their voice cursing the airport staff. Had there not been smoke detectors, they wont mind performing voodoo to incapacitate or even kill the airport staff they have a grudge on. On a smaller scale I got to see a mixture of all shades of these emotions at the Delhi airport recently.
I have to catch an afternoon flight to Bhubaneswar. While I had company on the onward journey, I am alone now. Left to fend for myself in a city I have never been to before. Last night was spent in a hotel close to the airport. I got up early to complete some pending work and hence am somewhat tired and sleepy. I decide to arrive at the airport early to avoid a long queue. Thankfully the q is manageable. I join it. It strikes me that standing is my fate for the next hour or so. The thought itself is sickeningly nauseating. I console myself . Its gonna be ok. The line is movin afterall. My alter ego says a snail moves faster. I surrender myself to providence and decide to trudge along.
Suddenly a thought strikes my mind. I decide to look around to see how my fellow beings fare in what seems to be a never ending wait for some while there are others too who wished time cud be bought (people who were saying goodbyes that is). Separation is painful indeed. I have been thru these situations and can hence relate. Maybe its good that im alone in my journey. On second thoughts, maybe not. A couple are bidding each other good bye. The small kid changes laps between the parents. A final kiss on the cheek from the dad and its time to go. The couple hold hands for one last time and leave. The kid's too young to figure what's goin on. He probably knows he is safe in his mothers arms.
As the line moves ahead a very pretty Kingfisher ground staff walks by announcing something indiscernible in a heavily accentuated voice. The old balding man in front of me salivates. I sympathize with him all the same knowing I might be in his shoes a few decades later. Someone shouts at this point saying where is the Indigo ground staff. The whole line bursts into laughter. The line moves on.
As I approach the security check, people are getting restless. The extensive checking in the wake of the Mumbai incident irritates a few. Some plead the security guys to be fast. Their pleas are met with indifference and apathy. Makes me wonder why does it take a terror attack to wake up these guys. But what is even more annoying is that the scanners in one of the security check booths isn't functional and hence a manual check of hand baggage further delays things. A Mongoloid (Japanese or Korean I guess) appears clueless. I hear a few 'maa behen ki gaalis' which seems to be on the tip of the tongues of Delhites. I don blame them. When emotions are on a high, people slip. I clear the security check on my turn. It's a big relief. My aching legs look for a place to sit. I take a seat. The empty ones beside me get occupied soon. There is some time left for the flight. I decide to continue gazing at people.
Kids play around. Some cry. The ground staff keep announcing "This is the last and final call for……". There is this indigo girl roaming about who gets a lot of well deserved attention from the crowd. Instinctively I try to find the old man. There he is – salivating again. Most of the other old men ape him some even in the presence of the old ladies by their side who counter with a look of rebuke. Im reminded of the saying 'Men don't stop trying' and smile to myself. The only thing I fear in life is old age. And that too a lonely one without someone by ur side jus like the old man. Its an age when u cant rock the bed anymore, u'll feel shy to hold hands in public, go on long drives and take turns in driving, mumble sweet nothings in each others ears. But I guess having someone to rebuke u for the faux pax gives u a sense of belonging. It tells u that u r still wanted and there is someone who stills wants ur undivided attention. Now whether the men looked at the pretty girl to satiate their carnal desires or deliberately to make their spouse jealous – I don know. But believe me somehow it made very cute scene all in all.
My flight's departure is announced. I again get into a queue. Being a programmer by profession I think why cant I join a stack which follows LIFO (last in first out) instead of a q. Whatever. The q is faster this time around. Soon after I board the plane. Its almost empty. I take a window seat at the back. In time the flight takes off. And then it hits me. Im lonely and this time there aren't many people to look at and analyze. I don have my earphones with me. The view outside is just white. Im dead. Instinctively im reminded of my onward journey. At least there was someone to talk to. I look for someone to sit beside. Where's the old man I think !!! Alas, not on this plane. Given the display of his libido earlier on I'm sure he had a lot of tales from his youth to narrate. I accept my fate and let my mind wander freely. Look back at my life and introspect. Dream of the good days and the bad ones. The people I like. The ones I wished weren't there in the first place. I think about the future too. I have plans. Big ones at that. I try to make a roadmap. Sometimes good decisions can be made in the peace and quiet of untroubled moments I say to myself. While I try to seize the opportunity, a hostess interrupts me. I take a can of Orange juice. It tastes like medicine. I leave it. This is getting worse. But I have nothing to do. Except sit back and let my mind wander aimlessly. Somewhere I fall asleep.
Suddenly im interrupted by the speaker. The plane prepares for descent. I fasten my seatbelts. As I deplane, im overcome with relief. The worst is over. In time im home. That night as I lie in bed my mind instinctively wanders to the happenings of the last 24 hours. A sudden plan, a company by coincidence, the onward journey, roaming on the chilly streets in Delhi at 1 in the night looking for an open internet café (i actually found one in another hotel), the events thereafter, the couple separating at the airport (somewhat touching), the ground staff and the old men gaping at them, my loneliness at the return journey – it was a mixed bag but some did leave an indelible mark on memories. I smile and retire myself to a night of blissful sleep.
First things first. I got the feedback that my previous posts don’t carry a date and hence this blog suffers from the lack of a timeline. Well the only reason I dint include them earlier was coz I usually wrote them over a period of time – around 2-3 days and hence thought that tying a post to a particular date may distort things. But all the same I do see a point in the feedback and hence have decided to write the month before every post (as u can see above this). As for my previous posts I have done the same with them.
Its been quite a while since my last post and a lot of water has flown under the bridge since then. Firstly I write this from a foreign soil, and every gasp of my breath craves to go back to my motherland and smell the air of its soil. I really find it tough to believe sometimes that we human beings become so intricately attached to the stuff we grow with until at some point they become as good as soulmates to us.
Dubai is by all counts a mind blowing city . I would say it’s a case study in the human history of development. A perfect example of how to build a metropolis from virtually scratch out of sand. It competes with Singapore and to some extent Hong Kong and Tokyo (I still wouldn’t include Shanghai ) to be Asia’s global cities . But while Singapore has built itself inspite of the absence of any natural resources whatsoever Dubai has had the benefit of having tons of oil to itself and thereby enabling the administration to run the city on oxygen (without any tax payers money that is). But this doesn’t take away anything from this place. Afterall there are north African nations and even asian (ever heard of Brunei!!) floating in oil with the higher powers being among the richest on the planet but people go hungy there. But not Dubai. King Rashid is almost worshipped by the people here and he has lived up to it. He made sure that the money from oil was ploughed back into the system. You just have it all here. From the world’s costliest hotel to the world’s tallest tower to the world’s largest mall. Its all in the superlative. And all in the space of 35-40 years.
As for the people u find them all here. Hindi is everywhere and so are Indians (7 in 10). And somehow Filipinos go everywhere. Keralites with their usual ‘Yaai cyame tyu the middle yeast to yearn meney’. Enterprising people indeed. They are the single largest community here.
But I don’t know why inspite of all this the mind wants to go back to India. There is nothing like India in the whole world. Indeed home is where the heart is !!!
NB* The words/phrases in purple/green are hyperlinks. Click on them to know more.
Quite long ago I had seen the movie 'Parineeta', Sarat Chandra's classic slightly tweaked for a happy ending. If u see the movie, the beginning that is, u'll find the voice of Amitabh Bachchan giving a very illustrative and poetic account of this city along with matching shots in the background. According to me that rendition of his, along with the background shots captured the mood and beauty of Kolkata to perfection. The reason I'm so intoxicated by the beauty of this city is because I have just left it for my hometown Bhubaneswar, after spending around a month there. And I have seen it all. And believe me in these thirty odd days, this city captured a piece of my imagination. And although my first love still remains Bhubaneswar to the core, I can't excuse myself from describing the enchanting beauty of this place. Some of the stuff worth mention, I write below:
Traffic Jams: I repeat I've seen it all. I lived in this huge mansion exclusively inhabited by Parsi families (my aunt is married to one and hence the privilege). It was located in the most central part of Kolkata namely Moulali. And needless to say it was bustling the whole day. Buses, trams (more bout that below), taxis, people on the move, u have it all. Even the metros are crowded now and do little to help. The city just never slept.
Culture/Architecture/Cuisine: Nostalgia still prevails here. The mansion I mentioned above is almost 70-80 years old but still would put many houses of today to shame. It really has class with its high walls and windows the size of doors. What i intend to say is the architecture of yesteryears is still there in most parts of the city with British influence very much apparent most notably in the Victoria Memorial. And the Parsis are indeed one of the most peace loving communities as I saw. Pity its dwindling with only about 500 odd left in Kolkata. The best part is the food. During festive occasions that's served in traditional banana leaf. To me that beats sophisticated cutlery and fine dining any day.
Intellect: There was a saying once upon a time - 'What Bengal thinks today, India thinks tomorrow'. After all, this was the place where the freedom struggle started and the Congress was born. Greats like Ram Mohan Roy, Vidyasagar, Michael Madusudan Dutta (according to me the greatest Indian writer of all time though very few people know of him), Sarat Chandra himself, the list goes on, are connected to this place. Lastly this city has produced three Nobel laureates. And this was the city Mother Teresa called home. I guess I need not say more.
Presidency college: Satyendranath Bose (of Bosons and Bose-Einstein Statistics fame) hailed from here. This man was awarded 110/100 in his math exam as he had not only solved every question but also in every possible way. Einstein wrote his reco. Jagdish Chandra Bose taught here without taking his salary for three years as a mark of protest as he was paid three times less than the British professors while he considered himself as good as them. The British had to relent after 3 years. That was some courage of conviction. Netaji, its most famous alumnus (the most inspirational national leader according to me) had slapped a British professor for insulting a fellow Indian peon. A board on the staircase mentions this with pride in the exact location where it happened. And it all happened in this institution.
Trams: Probably Tokyo and Hong Kong are the only other Asian cities that have it. And believe me trams are some nostalgia. I traveled in them extensively just for the ride. My favorite route was the one that ran parallel to the Ganges shore with Babughat and Princep Ghat on one side and the Maidan on the other and the Calcutta skyline (Chatterjee and Tata building) beyond it. Take this route during sunset and its like honeymoon in slow motion (I had to put this in a corny way to make u feel the bliss of trams!).
HowrahBridge (the old one): The busiest bridge in the world. Not a single nut and bolt has been used. It’s all sealed. Probably now u can fathom why I mentioned traffic above.
The Maidan: I guess u wont find such a huge open space in the midst of bustling traffic right in the middle of the city in any other place in the world. They say it’s bigger than Central park in New York City. The Ganges is on the left and downtown on the right. Probably the only place in the country where Football rules instead of Cricket in the evening. There is a Taanga ride (horse-driven-carriage) that people take in front of the Victoria Memorial near Eden. Believe me, for those 10 minutes, you feel like a royal basking in the adulation of lesser mortals on the street.
City centre: There’s something for the youngsters too. On the weekends the entire young crowd, the software people in particular gather here. And you do find love in the air! And yeah, the largest Pantaloons is in Kolkata too, though in a different area. You get spoilt for choice.
Boat ride in Princep ghat: This is how Rajesh Khanna expressed his love for Waheeda in Khamoshi (Woh Shaam Bhi Kuch Ajeeb Thi) and Sharmila in Amar Prem (Chingaari koi Bhadke). A 30 minute ride costs 100 bucks. But take it from me it’s worth the ride. U get to pass under the Howrah bridge if u pester the boatman a bit or lure him with some extra money. The boats actually have a lantern hanging from the arched structure and the boatman uses just the long bamboo to row. Made me realize why some things look so appealing when done the old fashioned way.
Propaganda: Rather communist propaganda. You see the red flag everywhere. The strikes though openly criticized by the 'intellectuals' are secretly reveled by them all the same (with me as a partner in their crime for the free holidays). Gorky Sadan, Lenin Sarani, Tolstoy Bhavan - these people just love Soviets. If Castro dies i reckon they'll get the corpse here. One of the last strongholds of Communism in India. Lastly where else would you find Che Guevara right from college walls to almost every T-shirt worn by students as if it were uniform as a mark of protest against something they don't like. It really confirmed what I had heard often - that Che is the most tattooed and T-shirted face on the planet.
Roshogolla and mishti doi: The first one is often used to signify a beautiful girl. It’s so beautiful indeed! Recent fusions include a variety where Mango flavor is infused in yogurt (Aam Doi). As for 'Roshogolla', these guys apparently stole the recipe from Oriyas and claim it to be their own (Wikipedia). Realize why I said propaganda above !!!
Park street: The half century old restaurants are still there. And u still have the Flury's (Sanjay Dutt treats the whole family here - sorry I can’t get off this movie). A slice of bread still costs a fortune. These guys supposedly openly admit to having opened this exclusively to fool rich foreign tourists living in Park Street. Oh and yes, there’s Moulin Rouge too!
And lastly, the Durga puja: I once heard that UNESCO declared this as the biggest Autumn festival in the world (to me it seems more of a rumor spread by the Bengalis to assert their culture - but not too of the mark though). This takes the cake for me. More for the social than the religious aspect or the rituals. On the social side its' the annual get together of relatives, pretty much similar to the annual reverse migration of the Chinese during the Chinese new year. And the most joyous time of the year where people indulge in merrymaking dining, shopping and of course 'Adda' (Bengali for get together of friends after a long time). On the religious, men actually dance like Sanjay Dutt in Parineeta in traditional Dhoti Kurta. And the women look traditional draped in their red sarees. It's also here that matches are made for the people of marriageable age for the coming year. There is a slight whiff of flirtation in the air as guys and girls decide on their future mates (or at least fancy them !!). I have faced a traffic jam at 3 in the night. It’s electric. I don’t think any other festival or carnival livens up any other city like what the puja (pujo in local dialect) does to Kolkata (maybe the Rio carnival comes close).
They say that if u live in a city long enough, u eventually begin to like it. Well in my case, it took just one month to make me fall in love with 'Anondonogori Kolkata' - The city of joy.
This blog is written by Sunny Gohil as 'Baba Gaanjadhaari'. He tries to write in Urdu under the pen name 'Saaqi' and plans to come out with his collection of poems some day.
Dont threaten me with love. Just walk with me in the rain...
