How I swallowed a thousand eggs

Calcutta has not changed. No, it has. It is Kolkatta. But that's pretty much it. Or well, that's pretty much for most part of the city. But there are ofcourse these new additions, now in every Indian city, - swanking new cars, plush apartments, wide roads and glittering malls - that have become the symbols of new age urban India.

But otherwise, it has remained the Calcutta I have seen - The yellow Ambassador cabs with a honking problem, an omnipresent stink, the crowd, the traffic and the carefree trams amidst it, the rossogollas and the Howrah bridge.

What was different this time was an unexpected shower of hospitality from one of my colleagues. I was invited to his parents' place. For the next 3 hours I spent my time watching Tom & Jerry and eating the innumerous sweets, delicacies, fruits and the many more things that were sprawled across the table. That was probably the first time I ate a Lichi fruit. Tastes just like the Lichi drink from Real. Or is that supposed to be otherwise!

What followed next was a sumptuous meal with rice, dhal, and fish curry. It was kind of queer to find fish and dry fish used in the same curry. And I being a gourmet had to ask.

' No, no, no. That is not dry fish. Those are fish eggs!'

That is when the head goes spinning for a minutest moment. Eggs of fish? How many did I eat? Won't they hatch inside my stomach and make a pond out of it? There must have been hundreds of them? It is psychological thing when you eat something new and something that you have not imagined to eat. That is exactly how I felt when I accidently boiled ants along with maggi. The noodles tasted just like usual until I saw the first dead body. I couldn't push another spoon of it.

'So how do you like it.'

'Oh, it's fantastic!'

(Is it? Dry fish is fantastic and this tastes like dry fish. So this has to be fantastic. But this is an agglomeration of a thousand fish eggs!)

'So you should eat more of it. May be you should try the fried ones. They taste even better.'

When Antony Bourdain can eat sheep testicles, can't I eat fish eggs?

Costly affair

Doc: Which part of the country is clothes cheap?
Ananth: I don't know. May be Calcutta, Bombay. No Surat.
Doc: I then have to plan an official trip there to purchase uniforms for my kids. Clothes have become very expensive here.

Just in time

I reached the Kharagpur railway station at 5:30 in the morning - 25 minutes before the train's scheduled arrival. The information board did not specify my train's platform number. I therefore went up to the enquiry cell and asked for the platform number.

'Riybpt'
'What?'
'See riybpt' (See right)
'Yeah, but the board does not work.'
'Waibt. It will work.'

I went again to him; this time at 5:50
' Waibt, it will come.'
' Come on, the train arrives in 5 minutes. And the board does not work. There is no information from the PA systems as well. And look at those monstrous steps I might have to climb.'
'Waibt. I will conbpfirm.'
He picked up the phone and spoke to someone in Bangla.
'The train will come in platpform two or pfour.' 'Or pfive.'
'It is another minute or two for the train to arrive and you tell me it could be in 2 or 4, or 5?

The PA system intervened. The train will be arriving in platform 2. I lunged towards the stairs.

Platform 1 >>
Platform 2, 2a, 4 >>

What?? How can one set of stairs lead to 3 platforms? What the heck? Let's go.

And there it was. I was standing on the world's longest railway platform. Three platforms in one platform. Each separated from the other by an iron partition.

The platform did not indicate where the AC compartment would stop. So I stood somewhere in the mid-section of the platform. And as it always should be, I had to walk, jog and run a bit to get to the coach before the train started again.

The TTR checked the tickets.
'The other two who were to travel with me are not traveling.'
No response.
Then he said, 'Get rebphund' and walked away with the ticket.

'Hey. Wait. why are you walking away with my ticket.'

By then he was gone. I had to endure being bumped, cornered and crushed by many suitcases and fat ladies before I found the TTR again. (Praise the guy who brought in the rule that TTRs wear coats. How else would I have identified him.)

'Sir, you took my ticket away. And I can't get down without a ticket.'
'I am giving you rebphund. Two people did not come know.'

There is a saviour everywhere. Or did I mumble too loud to let the TTR know that I have little money and was looking for an ATM.

'That is very nice of you.' Money always makes me smile.

He filled in a form as I waited to sign at the bottom and collect 'my' money.

'Here, gibve the pform in railway istation and get rebphund.'

I didn't ask for paper money? I want real money.

Speed limit

Have you ever wondered why several motorists drive at hair raising speeds in the road abutting the Elliot's beach? I have; several times; until I solved the riddle this morning.

Money matters

F: Sir I am calling from Tata AIG Life Insurance.
R: If you are trying to sell me an insurance, the chances are very less that I will buy one.
F: Why Sir?
R: Because I think I am too young to be insured.
F: Are you under 18?
R: No.
F: Then you need to be insured.
R: The truth is I don't have enough money for myself.
F: Oh!

F* - Female caller with a sexy voice
R* - Raja

Get accustomed

Not everything that everyone writes in custom messages on messengers is for me.

From a deflated wallet on an inflated economy

I have been with Raja for a long time now. He told me the other day that he has managed to save close to 10k in the two and half years that he has been working. I will not blame him. Prices are rising. The house he lives costed 6.5k a month six months back. It will be 10K from June. The other houses in the same building cost 12k. The owner has been very magnanimous to him. That is primarily because he does not drink or smoke at home with his friends till 2 am on weekends and wake the neighbours. The other day Jose, Raja and I were at a restaurant. After the two of them drank some coffee, Raja pulled 20 bucks out of me to pay for the coffee. 2 cups of coffee for 18 bucks. Atrocious. And a 2 rupee tip for that sweet milky cocktail? No wonder why he has saved only about 10k.

There was a time when I was fat and big. Varad always made sure I was fed full with 100s. Those were the days when Raja and I left home early in the morning and came back after sunset. Although we entertained ourselves in everyway we could, which included movies, splurging at restaurants, philanthropy among many things, I hardly lost a 100 rupee note. That was ten years back.

The parottas at the evening stalls which used to be 2 rupees a piece is now 4 bucks. What would you call that? Prices are soaring so high that the common man would be able to drink beer only once a week. I used to pay 100 bucks for 2.16 litres of petrol not long ago. Then it became 2.04 litres for the same money; and now 1.89 litres. I remember my dad telling me that Varad used to pay Rs 19.50 for a litre of petrol and 50 ml of oil. Rkay will have to get back to eating full meals as the Subway salads have moved past Rs. 200. This is exactly why Raja stopped buying free food to other people. There will soon be a day when he will stop buying them free beer too.

Of all the undesired things that are happening, the one thing that pains me most is that I no longer get to carry as many crispy 100 rupee notes as I used to. They are replaced by stale, smelly and old 10 rupee notes. However, I am waiting for that day, when 10 rupee notes will become extinct and when the crispy 100 rupee note will become the smallest denomination.

115!

Balu says his bike can clock 100 kmph just like that. Mine is a Discover too. A 125. I however have always struggled to reach 100. 90 is doable in most roads. But a 100? It has always been the thing that you could do but you wouldn't do. I always feel the bike to be running out of breath beyond 90 and I hate bruising the machine. It was the same story, until a few days back...

I had to be out one early morning and as I reached close to the Tidel Park signal, something whizzed past me and stopped at the signal for the red light - A Suzuki Burgman 650. I had the bike serviced a few days back and was in no mood to crank the accelerator. But this was an open invitation.

A 650 cc machine pumping out 54 bhp looked like a gaint compared to my bike. But what the heck. That one looks like a scooter. May be a gaint scooter. And bikes are always faster then scooters. I had to race.

There is an unspoken language at all traffic signals. As you brake and look around, you always notice 'them', and 'they' always notice 'you'. Then all of you, together, crouch and look at your visors for a second, lift up your heads and gaze at the traffic lights. The light at the adjacent signal goes yellow. Three. Two. One. It's green and go.

It is familiar territory from here on. A straight road, trees on the side that look like a hazy splash of never-ending green, a bump in the road that is always ignored, a blurry image of bikes in the rear view mirror, a feeling of intoxication, joy and elation all at one go and the speedometer reading... 115! a one hundred-and-fifteen!

As I slowed down near the Madhya Kailash turn, the Burgman whizzed past me.

I told you! Bikes are faster than Scooters!

Kiraned!

Kiran is touching lives. I was surprised to see this post in Balu's blog.

http://vishwassusikar.blogspot.com/2007/12/where-is-nail-cutter.html

No wonder! Everyone gets kiraned at some point of their lives.