It must have amused a bystander. A guy in the business suit and the driver, both trying to catch a fly that had ventured into the car. But it broke the ice. Shambhu, the urban idiot I'd call him. Because he always grinned, even when my partner was firing him from being late. And then that day, the car was giving him problem, so every few kilometers we would stop and he'd stick his head inside the bonnet. Shambhu aur uski mehbooba!
The city seems stuck in time, making attempts to break out of it's archaic mold and embrace the future. People here are not as hard working as you'd expect in a metro. It is a difficult task to get an appointment before 11 in the morning and then after 1230 till around 2 it's lunch time while 530 is shutter down time. Blame it on the weather, as one wise guy told us. The buildings are still old, the occupants seldom the true owners, which makes reconstruction all the more a sticky issue. There are crumbling, diesel buses sputtering along it's flyovers and yellow ambassador cabs across the engineering marvel called the 'Vidyasagar Setu'. It is one of the longest suspension bridges of Asia, I am told and it reminds me this conversation sometime final year of Architecture when we were studying Advance Building Construction. We'd pondered if there was any such bridge in India.
The people have a smile on their faces, the cab drivers, the people near the hotel, especially the guy who comes up to take the laundry, M. Ali. All except the waiters, who are a surly lot. But the restaurants are good - Flurrys, Magnolia, Marco Polo in China, Sourav's, the local Subway and of course - Oh Calcutta! which by far was the finest, plates with R. K. Laxman's impressions of the city painted on the plates. The final day we were guided by the driver to this small cosy place called 'Kewpie's' who was on the 'Times Food Awards' for the best Bengali cuisine and we had some yum Bengali food - the name of delicacies I can't remember. And then there is this happening place called Roxy's where you get served by some classy waitresses (not a strip joint). We tried our luck the first week (courtesy our local partner) and were given a humiliating look by the bouncer at first and then sweetly told by the lady at the counter that entry is by invitation only. Ha! What an ass we made of ourselves. And then the last night in Kolkata we did manage to gain access to the place. Sexy interiors with blue lights and stainless steel furniture combined with exposed brick walls. The girls serving us lived up to the reputation of the place - sexy chicks there at your beck and call. But the real kick of the place was the bloody music system. The DJ played some odd combination of songs - Dire Straits, Shakira (her hips didn't lie), Blue, the Beatles, Billy Joel and all of it mixed up with some trance. Listening to all of it on their bloody multi-hundred watt Bose stereo system was an experience worth the expensive daroo. When will I have my own!
And then across the foyer, there is this place called 'Someplace Else' which is so much like 'Thousand Oaks' in Pune - good music and a good crowd, barely any place to stand, we got out in a jiffy.
There are a lot of bazaars - Raja Bazaar, Shyam Bazaar and Burra (Bada) Bazaar, one of the biggest I've seen, and I got lost in it's tiny lanes. Didn't get the chance to travel in the tram, or the country's first metro. In the meanwhile, I've been enjoying all the luxury that my company money will buy me. It does suffice for most things...except...maybe good company.
The city seems stuck in time, making attempts to break out of it's archaic mold and embrace the future. People here are not as hard working as you'd expect in a metro. It is a difficult task to get an appointment before 11 in the morning and then after 1230 till around 2 it's lunch time while 530 is shutter down time. Blame it on the weather, as one wise guy told us. The buildings are still old, the occupants seldom the true owners, which makes reconstruction all the more a sticky issue. There are crumbling, diesel buses sputtering along it's flyovers and yellow ambassador cabs across the engineering marvel called the 'Vidyasagar Setu'. It is one of the longest suspension bridges of Asia, I am told and it reminds me this conversation sometime final year of Architecture when we were studying Advance Building Construction. We'd pondered if there was any such bridge in India.
The people have a smile on their faces, the cab drivers, the people near the hotel, especially the guy who comes up to take the laundry, M. Ali. All except the waiters, who are a surly lot. But the restaurants are good - Flurrys, Magnolia, Marco Polo in China, Sourav's, the local Subway and of course - Oh Calcutta! which by far was the finest, plates with R. K. Laxman's impressions of the city painted on the plates. The final day we were guided by the driver to this small cosy place called 'Kewpie's' who was on the 'Times Food Awards' for the best Bengali cuisine and we had some yum Bengali food - the name of delicacies I can't remember. And then there is this happening place called Roxy's where you get served by some classy waitresses (not a strip joint). We tried our luck the first week (courtesy our local partner) and were given a humiliating look by the bouncer at first and then sweetly told by the lady at the counter that entry is by invitation only. Ha! What an ass we made of ourselves. And then the last night in Kolkata we did manage to gain access to the place. Sexy interiors with blue lights and stainless steel furniture combined with exposed brick walls. The girls serving us lived up to the reputation of the place - sexy chicks there at your beck and call. But the real kick of the place was the bloody music system. The DJ played some odd combination of songs - Dire Straits, Shakira (her hips didn't lie), Blue, the Beatles, Billy Joel and all of it mixed up with some trance. Listening to all of it on their bloody multi-hundred watt Bose stereo system was an experience worth the expensive daroo. When will I have my own!
And then across the foyer, there is this place called 'Someplace Else' which is so much like 'Thousand Oaks' in Pune - good music and a good crowd, barely any place to stand, we got out in a jiffy.
There are a lot of bazaars - Raja Bazaar, Shyam Bazaar and Burra (Bada) Bazaar, one of the biggest I've seen, and I got lost in it's tiny lanes. Didn't get the chance to travel in the tram, or the country's first metro. In the meanwhile, I've been enjoying all the luxury that my company money will buy me. It does suffice for most things...except...maybe good company.
No comments:
Post a Comment