The Piscine Passion

Never separate a simple man from his cheese they say. In this part of the continent the saying enjoys a slightly different variation; here in Bengal we never separate a Bengali from his fish!
I experienced a nonchalant display of such fixation early yesterday at the fish bazaar. Now, unless it is obvious, there is nothing I hate more than having to wake up early on a Sunday morning and being sent off to buy fish without even being given a cup of tea. I had to be the only customer in that smelly, slushy, fly plagued market who after ordering his fish stood photographing everything around him!

“Aare dada, maccher chokh deke bole deova jaye she mach bhalo kina…!”
(You can look into the eyes of a fish and tell whether it is good quality or not!),

“Mamaaaa……Ami Puri-te giye shudhui Katla, Koi, Ilish, Rui, Nadosh, Pabda, Bhola, Bhetki ja peyechi gaande- pinde shatiyechi…jibon amar sarthok holo guru!”
(Duuude…. I visited Puri and voraciously ate whatever fish I could find; now my existence makes sense (followed by a long list of fish))

“Peti norom hova chai, NOROM, tita hole nebo na!”
(The stomach needs to be SOFT, I will not accept it if its bitter!)

"Phees Cutlet, Phees Phry, Phees Chop, Phees Kobiraji, Phees Phingar, Phees Pulao, Phees-er jhol, Shorsher-tele bhaja Ilish-er gaada, jast Phees!"

(A food-shack owner screaming out his fish-menu to passer-bys!)

Watch the Bengali argue with a fish vendor over the quality of fish and you will get a fair idea how Plato and Socrates would have debated a Metaphysical phenomenon or Western Philosophical theory; the knowledge and ingenuity thrown across at each other is just unsurpassable!

"Deem chharan, Deemta chhariye alada kore deen, bhaja khabo!!" (remove the eggs and pack them separately, I'll fry them!!), I said to the fish vendor as he removed a blob of eggs from the belly of my two kilo Rui and kept it aside.

I am one of them too.

The Recession hit Kolkata Cuppa

Cant live without these, I'll admit that first off. Over the months though, the size of the average 'Bhaand' everywhere has shrunken distinctly.

Yesterday I was seated at Bankshall Court waiting for my case to be called on and realising I had time to sneak a chai I ushered a chai-walla lurking nearby. The minute he produced this dwarfed earthen pot I made a face to which his reply was priceless.

"Reesheshaan" (Recession), he said.

I bought one of these for Rs2/- like the quintessential, overpaying recession hit customer and needless to say, the 'reesheshaanary' (recessionary) earthen pot was dry after I took a single draught.

So whoever said, recession hits everything, DID afterall have Kolkata's 'Bhaander Cha-walla' in mind while making his inference!

And salutaions to the chai-walla for keeping abreast!

An ode to Cad-B

Honestly, this was a long time coming. I had earlier been introduced to the Cad-B shake during the final months of college in Pune but could never remember to write about the blessed thing. For the uninitiated, Cad-B shake is the thickest chocolate shake on the planet and by ‘thick’ I mean REALLY thick and viscous, in near freezing temperatures you can invert the glass for as long as you want and the thing won’t even flow out!

To add heavily to its sinfully addictiveness is a heap of grated chocolate spread generously on its surface, served frozen for the maximum near-orgasmic pleasure!

You can get these shakes in two sizes, Half and Full and boy you should see the difference between the two! The Full Cad-B shake is a universe of chocolate and you can’t dig deep enough into its thick, brown depths to scoop out those little chunks of chocolate floating inside.

I have often fantasised about the Cad-B shake and imagined wonderful variations of it. What if there was a Strawberry Cad-B, with chunky strawberries floating around deep in the chocolate? Maybe a Honey Cad-B with a dollop of honey on the chocolate grating..? Or for that matter even a Caramel, Mocha or a Mint Cad-B…!

If you are new to Pune or have never tasted the beverage before, maybe you should take a walk down to Deep Bangla Chowk or Kamla Nehru Park (among other places) and have one, maybe two, you can never get enough of Cad-B!

Warning: It is not meant for the “Oh I ate a pea I am gonna get fat..!” kind.

The constant duel

My present predicament has brought me to a face off between philosophy and pragmatism. All my prior decisions and actions have been taken favouring the latter whereas the former has always been set aside as fantasy, as romantic ‘gas-balloons’, gas-balloons that eventually get lost in the sky or pop.

I was standing at the edge of a cliff all this time and the coup de grace has just come through, I have finally, more or less come to terms with myself on a decision I am going to take pretty soon but this time its philosophy I am going to go with.

Philosophy, a refuge for the confused, the dazed, individuals seeking answers deep within themselves, introspecting all the time.

We shall see if philosophy brings me happiness, satiation. Mine is a rarely trodden path, a path for the brave, a walk in the hills at night, blindfolded, a path for those who are willing to endure pain in order to pursue their aspirations, an image, a single image of the perfect future.

I think its motivation that’s more like the gas-balloons, they either get lost high up in the sky or pop. It’s the motivation that needs to be garnered, protected.

A strong, single minded focus is the binding string, faith being the fabric.

Sam

Its Sam’s turn now. He leaves on the 15th of this month for Cardiff to pursue his MBA. I called him a little while back to have one of those last pre-departure chats. A Trademark “Bol Bail-ke-Bulle” (I decline to translate that) greeted me from the other side and immediately an overwhelming pain welled up inside. Although the guy kept insisting he would come back after his course was done and take up a job at Pune, I know and I am sure he does too, that this probably was going be it. The point where Sam leaves the nest.
The process began with Babu leaving Pune in 2006, Karan Singh around the same time for Mumbai and then Jeetu, followed by Bikram who eventually came back and finally myself in 2008. Mayukh plans to leave in about a year or so. Although Jeetu keeps coming down from Aurangabad and catches up with Bikram and Mayukh da, Babu hasn’t been to Pune for a while.
I dare to think what would become of Pune in about two or three years from now. Bikram would be gone and so would Mayukh da. The city for me wouldn’t be complete without the rest of the seven. The city would be the same as what it was in the monsoon of 2003 when I first set foot in it as a lone stranger. There wouldn’t be much of a point visiting it alone.
Before hanging up I wished Sameer all the very best. I couldn’t tell him how much I would miss him, I wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but if you’re reading this Sam, Carpe Diem man! Get back soon, Ehsaas hasn’t played its best gig yet!

Palone in the rain

Last Saturday taught me that you can have fun irrespective of the company, place or situation, only if you want to. That day I was pretty sure a few places in Kolkata were on their way to getting completely submerged under water, the incessant rainfall accompanied by storm like winds made it impossible for anyone to have a Saturday night out. Every street in the city was flooded and it just wouldn't cease to rain.

I had been out earlier that afternoon to meet an old friend and have a drink with him but that plan went up the chimney when he showed up badly sozzled and apologetically begged me to call the plan off, reluctantly I obliged, put him in a taxi and sent him off silently cursing him under my breath for having made me wait for almost two and a half hours while he was at another party guzzling away....

With a heavy-ish heart I made off to meet another friend of mine who lived nearby to salvage whatever was left of my Saturday evening. The both of us were in need. He wasnt feeling well and needed someone to talk to and I needed a beer. By the time I had marched half way through his place the heavens had begun spraying the city with a renewed vengeance and the winds had gotten worse. My umbrella barely managed to protect my upper half while my lower half suffered punishing lashes of wind and rain. Walking like a maniac I reached his place in about fifteen minutes , wet and pretty mad at the sheer injustice of it all.

I hadnt reached the guy's doorstep when I heard his voice from the terrace above; "Dude, dont come in, lets go out for a walk instead!"

"...only if we're getting beer!"

Within seconds he was downstairs looking ridiculous in his see-through, plastic rain-coat, a huge picnic umbrella and a silly grin on his face.

A daunting task, walking a kilometer and a half to the nearest beer store, the odds were, getting fearfully wet because of the cyclonic conditions outside, drowning and ending up in some ditch, getting run over by a speeding car blinded by the wind and rain, stepping into a drain overflowing with the filthiest water mankind has ever seen and the likes. A silent prayer and off we were.

The tiny gullys that make inlets into neighbourhoods are the worst to tackle during such heavy rains as the levels of accumulated water could get very high, sometimes as high as your privates, maybe higher and there's no telling what could be floating around in the mucky water and the slightest of inadvertent exposure of that water to your precious-s to could have disastrous consequences. Yet, we delved into it like brave soldiers holding on to each other's shoulders for support. People stood huddled underneath parapets, on the pavements on either side and gaped at us, probably wondering what could have impelled such intrepidity.

After a few minutes of wading through the water, balancing ourselves with one arm on each other's shoulders and the other holding our respective umbrellas the blessed sight of the beer shack started to appear within visual range, but hold on, why was the owner standing near the exit fiddling with the lock?

My "Oooo bhai...darao, bondho koro na, amra aschi!" (Hey there, dont shut down, we're coming!!) fell to deaf ears and in an almost Bollywood-ish (actually more like Tollywood-ish) artistryI gunned ahead leaving my friend badly disbalanced who for a few seconds wobbled around for support , then submitting to the might of the water current let himself splash into the muck face down, his gigantic picnic-umbrella floated around happily. The shutter had almost come half way down when with an earth shattering cry I tossed my umbrella at the metal shutter that made a more than audible bang!! The shutter immediately went up and peeped out a slightly scared face....

Spitting out a mouthful of gooey water and gasping desperately for breath the greedy and suffering Gollum in me spoke..."Two cans of Palone...chilled...my p..p..precious!"

We stood dripping wet underneath a tree that Saturday night, the two of us, sipping beer, talking and celebrating the fruits of human endeavour. Beer had never tasted better before.

Pearls of wisdom from Loserville

I am internet dependant to such an extent that just the other day, after my boss literally lost his voice screaming at me the entire afternoon after I made a horrendously dim-witted mistake in one of my tasks, I tottered back to my chamber and looked up, “Ways to get more intelligent” or “Why do bosses yell when they really need not?” and “How not to be a complete idiot” on Google.

Wonder of wonders Google had answers!

I discovered that there actually are a number of websites that offered solutions ranging from altering one's intelligence and perceptive abilities to real life suggestions and theories like; “10 ways to live you life if you are stupid!”, “The laws of human stupidity” and “So what if I thought differently..?”
Even Wiki answers offered some rather enlightening inputs on the question, “How to cure idiocy?”.

Well, that’s another day’s story…

This evening was the worst scream fest ever and better still, before clients and other lawyers, so I rushed back to Google “10 ways to go painlessly”, “Suicide made easy” and the works. Just for a broad idea;
On came,” A practical guide to suicide from a http://www.satanservice.org/”, “suicide methods”, “A ten minute suicide guide” and “Loner today goner tomorrow…”

Never mind the internet dependecy syndrome, my point is, be informed, there are more people out there who are like you than you know.
Life may be a bucketload of trash for the most part, with a bottle or two of leftover Scotch lying around in it for you to find (trust me to come up with the seemingly weirdest of analogies but if you are like me you'll get my point), remember everybody out there is getting their behinds wooped some way or the other.

Dont believe me? .....

Check out the number of co-members I have on the "Yes, I have a stammer...sometimes I slap my thigh red to speak!" Community on Orkut.

(Noteworthy point: Apparently Mr. Chetan Bhagat too Googled 'Ways to commit suicide'; Read '2 States; The story of my marriage' to find out more; Now I have famous friends!)