Thursday, August 13, 2009

Here I go again...: (Kolkata Kollections I)

Here I go again...

This time literally. I am on the move again. This time Calcutta adds itself to a list of Cities where I have had the privilege of spending time with.

By now I am convinced totally that the notion of being a vagabond actually excites me. Like a restless Bedouin who itches to kick his Camel's badass butt at the first ray of the Sun. Itching to get a move on, see the sand dunes on the other end of Sahara… It may be pointless but it is me.

The only exception this time being that I am totally on my own. No friends, no relatives (Thank God!), no familiar Tree or Rock. I have some college friends based in Cal but they are somewhere else

Trying to earn their living. Or as in modern times, trying to fend off their credit card bills. The idea is funny. Here is a mallu, based out of Nagpur educated in Pune and Kanpur so that he can earn a living in Del moves to Kolkata for a continuance of it. While the couple of Bong friends I mentioned earlier are stationed in Cochin! The world is truly flat at least in this neck of woods.

This actually open up the opportunity of touring NW which is something I always wanted to do because A) I have always wanted it B) its there (To quote Mallory). And to counter the solitude of the looming months in front of me I plan to spend time blogging my experiences here. Now you see the point in the title.

I am in my flight. I actually like Jet lite (Sorry Mr. Mallya) because there is this concept of free gifts and then buying food and beverage menu that will actually not flatten your pockets.

The attendants and the hostesses have just finished their cute little safety dance and we are off...

I actually look towards the take off. For me it's a culmination of an engineering miracle. It's a testimony to the stubbornness of Mother Nature's most persistent creation to date (that is man, after females of course…). Breaking the shackles, trespassing into a domain where Nature never intended us to go. From Kitty Hawk to Airbus 320, some trip indeed! The Wheels leave the ground the engineering voyeur in me delights, and I become conscious of the fact that I am grinning like an idiot.

As the plane banks steeply and makes a turn I can see recognize only the Qutub Minar down below. Like a giant Phallus it stands out in the scenery below. Beautiful!

I have the entire three aisle seat to me and I have finished ordering my favorite Nachos and Salsa. The plane slowly comes to life. Few babies announce their presence, somewhere back a lively debate on whether Ganguly retired too early is going on. Funny it ‘sounds’ like a debate but they all seem to be agreeing with each other. I guess I will have more of it in Cal.

But there is something interesting going on across my seat. A gentleman (definitely a Bong with a trademark Jhola) has started an elaborate eating ceremony. He has 2 tomatoes, 4 potatoes and some cucumber pieces arranged in a stone henge formation on his tray. He now picks up a cloth and starts wiping them with mathematical precision.

Somewhere in front a kid has absolutely massacred a sandwich and is judiciously using the fork to dispatch the remnants of sandwich to all parts of the plane. Bravo! He’s scored a hit. He manages to hit a distinguished gentleman in suit. The gentleman gamely picks up piece off his suit and even manages to offer a smile. The baby encouraged by the smile proceeds to send further missiles the gentleman’s way.

Meanwhile Mr. Bong-across-the-seat has finished wiping his meal. The tomatoes glint like his moon head and he is obviously happy with his work. Then he swallows a full Tomato raw in one go and chews contently. Next the Potatoes line up for their judgment day. Reminds me of a tale where I read some Spanish sailors being decorated, fed and pampered before some Sumerians ate them.

The gentleman in suit has an absolute murderous look on his face. A piece of mutilated tomato lands on the bridge of his nose. And finally Mommy calls an end to the game with a resounding Thwack strategically placed to the Kid’s rear.

Glug glug glug… Our Mr. Moonshine is now proceeding chugging down water after the ritual feast to Tomatoes and potatoes and follows up with a contented burp that resonates for a while. A few babies get frightened. You may accuse Indians for their many vices but no sir, subtlety is not one of them.

I finish my Nachos and Salsa and resist the temptation of licking the remnants of the wrapper. Damn thing’s delicious! And it takes all my will power to avoid ordering another packet.

The plane is hovering over Kolkata it’s time to shut my laptop. Rest of the tale in next installment….

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