OnColkata

Delhi to Kolkata via Latur

Before I begin, the reader should have an idea that this travelogue is about three people and two groups among them. One is the bourgeoise and the other, the elite. It is presented in that manner to make it a bit more fun.
It all began with an e-mail for the e-cancer event. I took no notice of the mail and it lay there until in a chance conversation I came to know that other members of FinO too had received a similar mail. It was to be held in Delhi. After proper planning and booking tickets for Delhi, we had to cancel the plans. Why? College and its machinations.
The event was also to be held at Kolkata also and dates didn’t clash with the college schedule. Thus the city of joy invited us.

Azad-Hind (A Train of Thought)

It was decided that Nagpur will be the rendezvous for going to Kolkata. Reaching Nagpur is a costly affair. So the B group reached Nagpur via Nanded by train. The elites went by direct bus.
We (group B) reached Nagpur one day prior, and stayed at the Government Dental College Hostel, at one of our common friend’s room. And he was making a denture. That piqued my curiosity. So after spending the evening visiting nearby mall and food joints I straight away jumped into a long conversation with Farid. It takes an unusually long time to make a denture. And in mid-conversation, he mixed the wrong ingredients and realized that only later. So it took almost midnight to finish. Morning came to find us sleeping till late. Train was at 10 am. Anuja (oops! Team Elite) had reached Wardha in the morning and boarded from there. After getting into the train and exchanging pleasantries, the three of us realised Azad-Hind sleeper compartment is not a great place for a journey that was over 20 hours long. To add to the agony were our fellow travelers. A young 22-year-old Bollywood dis-owned boy, who looked like a cataract patient, that too a complicated case due to the rainbow colored sunglasses which he had donned. And the good thing was that, he was very busy, unlike us. His contacts had numbers saved with names like ‘The Governor’. See, how easily you can misjudge people based on their looks. He must be a senior bureaucrat or a CID officer at the least.
Old man and tobacco is a deadly combination. For already they are hard of hearing and their voice is inaudible. But add to it that them being Bengali and I promise you, before you alight the train, you have a master's in sign language. In a compartment meant for 8 people you have a floating population of 14. Who are the righteous ticket holders and who seeking refuge are hard to discern. But the self-righteous spirit in you doesn’t make you sit still for long, and you go about demanding people to show tickets. The ones who have ticket take it as an insult, while it hardly bothers the others. ‘Arey Bhai, bas Bilaspur jana hain’ which takes 12 hours to reach. But you soon conform and find other things to bother about. And IRCTC ensures that.
If you believe I would be of any help to coax either Shailesh or Anuja, the answer is I rubbed salt to the wound. I usually carry a whole lot of books and newspapers in a separate handbag dubbed as ‘Raddi’. The groups that we had soon broken and a Non-Aligned movement started. There was a conspiracy hatched to sell my “Raddi ka Bag”. The train was called Azad-Hind and I had an Azadi ka slogan “Train is a tool for education” against the backdrop of increasing disenchantment towards the sleeper compartment. But Shailesh had a trump card. He had a 3rd AC ticket. So they moved to the AC compartment while I read peacefully. One of the most important topics upon which we discussed in the evening was “Gavar ki Sabji: Its industrial uses”. Nothing seemed more significant at that time.

The Fast and Furious: Kolkata Drift

The next day we reached Kolkata around 4 am. The elites are known for their planning and preparedness during long journeys. Things are so well planned that taxi is booked half an hour prior to reaching Howrah Junction only to find a canceled journey on arrival. Thus after reaching the junction we were staring at a long queue for a taxi. Another Uber was booked. The Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift, such was the experience of Kolkata Darshan with our new driver. And thus began our Kolkata Darshan.
Kolkata wakes up early. And the city is bustling with activity while the sun hasn’t even risen above the horizon. The iconic Howrah bridge stands tall to greet you. The grand colonial architecture leaves you mesmerized. As you travel through the streets, you are in for a culture shock. Add to it the sharp turns and other shocks that we were already experiencing. While we were busy enjoying the city views, the elites had taken it on as a responsibility to document the poverty in the city. Everywhere you saw half-clad men doing their morning chores and getting to business. After a 20 min journey full of horns, sharp turns, dangerous overtakes, BBC documentaries and wild exclamations we reached the hostel.

“Bas 5 min ka rasta hain”

Bubble beds was our place for stay. To greet us on arrival was the closed door of the hostel. Dark clouds of disappointment loomed but then the door opened upon repeated knocking. We were already late according to the plans we had made in advance. So we got ready as fast as possible. Even though I was in haste, I met an Aurangabadkar. Whenever you meet someone of your state and that too from your home town in a distant land, you cannot stop conversing and smiling.
Once ready we set out for the E-cancer seminar at Tata Medical Centre. I didn’t have a clue about city bus or metros either. “Didi says it hurts the male ego to use google map”. You had the feminist rhetoric pouring in from the elites. Didi perches upon the highest pedestal in ultra-feminist class. But we believe in asking pedestrians for way. Soon we reached the bus stop, took the city bus to New Town.The bus initially had space for planting two legs, but soon even that became a luxury. By the time we got off, my neatly ironed formals were completely disheveled. The apron comes to rescue in such perilous times.
Kolkata is hot and humid. The best tropical drink is Nariyal ka pani. The Nariyal wala was busy cutting through the coconut shell. The curious ones were met with projectiles in the eye from the tender coconuts. After a refreshing drink, we headed towards the Tata medical centre. The hospital building boasts of modern infrastructure and beautiful lawns. The security guards directed us towards the education block. Upon arrival, we were given colored wrist bands. They were cool to flaunt but later we realized that it was a food coupon. The lecture series started. Since I had no breakfast I was awake for the first time in the morning lectures. Usually I doze off. The lectures worth mentioning were Dr Sullivan on the cancer economy. A fine speaker he is everyone’s favorite since the FiNO days. It was the evening before the session ended. With very little time left to explore the city and exhausted, we took a bus back to Kalighat. The bus dropped us just short of Kalighat near Charcoal Eats.
When you are hungry, the nostrils can sense the aroma of every possible food item wafting through the air. So we entered the Charcoal eats with a huge appetite and a small budget. We made this fact very clear right before we ordered. You see the B group people are pretty straightforward. The waiter was the most polite person I met that day and he did find something that matched our appetite as well as budget.
Too much belief in pedestrians can hurt. Better to hurt your male egos using google maps. That day we walked around 6-7 km with every passerby telling us it a 5-minute walk to Kalighat. Before we reached bubble beds I was hungry again. So we marauded a Bengali sweet shop and ate till our tummies were full. A sweet ending to an otherwise long and bitter walk.

Treasure Hunt

      The other morning I woke up very early. I am not an early riser but the situation made me do so. My bed, top berth in the bunk beds was situated just under the AC. I woke up just before I froze to death. After getting ready I woke Shailesh and Anuja and went to the terrace to read Gitanjali. You come to Kolkata and don’t read Tagore? Your journey is futile then. By 7 am we were heading towards the famous Kalighat temple. Ever entered a 5-star hotel? A valet will come running to you for parking your car. So did the pooja shop owner reached us to park our footwear in his shop. I knew what this was all about, having seen such things at many pilgrimage sites. He asked us to buy Pooja ka thali and prasad for which I replied “Bhagwan hamare sath hain” and walked off. I completed the Darshan evading priests, pujaris, shop owners, beggars who demanded money from me. It was a complete temple cum shopping bazaar experience with overtly aggressive sellers. I was waiting for both of them and couldn’t hold my laughter after they told me what ensued after I left.
The shop owner forced them to buy a Pooja thali and prasad. They did resist, but it was “Mata ka Birthday” according to the shopkeeper. Interesting isn’t it, Mata can have a birthday on any day.
They were accompanied by a priest to the temple who made them do various pujas. One of the rituals was "Mata ka Khajana”. All they did was hand you a yellow of piece of cloth saying “Apki sari murad puri ho jayegi” . That was the treasure. After completing the Darshan, we were duped for around 400 bucks. In Marathi, there is a saying “ Yala gndvale” meaning you have been fooled with a thread around your neck. But to see it in action is fun. Shailesh walked out with the thread around his neck. And I couldn’t hold my laughter! But fun apart, this was the worst experience in Kolkata. When you can sell your god, what else is left of you? The temple has been converted into a shopping mall where you can buy the grace of Mata for a price.
We were late for the morning session and so we took the cab. Were we still very angry after the incident and driver listened to our rant sympathetically. When we reached the hall, the session had already begun. After two or three lectures someone from the back asked, “Arey tu FiNO me tha na?”. I turned around to find a familiar face but couldn’t recognize him. And the conversation went on. He was Anmol, from Safdarjung and had won a scholarship to attend this event. Soon we were oblivious to those around us and their stares. After looking all around we decided it will do us good if we go out of the hall. Carrying an air of importance, holding our chins high, we walked off in style and laughed heartily outside.
The next goal was to pass time before getting the participation certificates. We related the treasure hunt tale to Anmol only to find another victim. He was duped for a whopping thousand bucks! Education doesn’t equate to common sense. We strolled around the building. Clicking pictures is a great way to spend time. And to click them where they are not allowed simply ups the ante. So we asked the security guard to take our pictures. Anmol is a social animal. When it was time for getting the certificates, he made friends with the whole camera crew and event manager. We took group photos with them and even gave an interview extolling the importance of E-cancer events.
Anmol had an early flight. So we left together soon after lunch towards Haldirams Prabhuji. It is a heaven for food lovers. But that day the heaven didn’t have an AC on. So a kind of Kolkata heaven. With a huge variety of sweets, chat, and drinks it leaves you flummoxed. Cham-Cham, Sandesh, Kuch-Kuch Hota Hain etc we ordered simply out of curiosity. At Haldirams we parted with Anmol and bid him farewell. He really multiplied the fun we had.
Next, we took a cab to Eco-park. It is a huge park with sculptures, monuments, replicas of the seven wonders of the world with a scenic lake at the centre. Cycles are available for navigation! Wax museum lies just opposite to the park. You have a chance to click a selfie with every celebrity. The museum has a terrace cafe. It provides a spectacular view of nightlife in the city. The city has a dazzling display of lights.
While returning back to Kalighat, the metro was available from Dum Dum station. The station was crowded and everyone waiting for the train. The crowd muscled its way into the metro as soon as it arrived. Anuja couldn’t get in as the doors closed on her, and her hand got in way of the doors. Hurt and angry we could see her through the windows with me still smiling. Just then the door opened for a split second, and I jumped out of the train as it left the station. I can pull off heroics anywhere but they are often under-appreciated acts. Eventually after a few more mishappenings we reached Bubble beds. By now severe budgetary constraints had affected the elites too. So we made a plan to make Maggi. Our hostel had a common kitchen with all the paraphernalia you’ll ever need. Eating hot boiling Maggi on rooftop? A memory that you will always cherish.

No one likes a Monday

The next day was our last day in Kolkata. We checked out of the hostel early in the morning and headed straight towards the Belur Math. It was my wish to visit the Math where Vivekananda breathed his last. Even the driver found it strange to find young people going straight to Math as if there were no other attractions in the city. Upon reaching the Math, we had to pull our bags through a long lane that lead to the Math with me leading. They say that holy places have positive vibes around them. That day both of my companions took utmost care to neutralize them.
Just across the bank of Hooghly river where the Math stands, is the Dakshineshwar temple.  We took the boat to reach the temple. It is a 20-minute journey across the river. Onboard after another photo session was the debate: Ramkrishna Mission Ashram does not stand up to the ideology upon which it was founded. I put a solid defense against a scathing attack. You realize the amount of peace this visit had instilled in our minds?
Dakshineshwar is one of the most revered sacred temple dedicated to goddess Kali. It was here that Ramakrishna was a priest and began his journey. There is another very interesting attraction. The pooja market. The shops are arranged linearly in a separate complex. All the shopkeepers are standing by their shops waiting for the buyers. When you walk through, everyone will woo you to buy their goods. The feeling is quite similar to be PM Modi at Howdy Modi! I didn’t miss the opportunity to wave at everyone as I walked past the shops.
With only a few hours left before the train, we booked a cab for the Victoria Museum. It is a long route to travel by cab, but we had no other option. Along the way, the taxi driver gave a long discourse on Kolkata markets, football, cricket, politics and even how to find a bride! We reached the Museum only to find “Monday Closed”.Weight of blame lied on the Gregorian calendar, but somehow a conclusion was reached that I was responsible for it. Atlas shrugged! We wandered listlessly about the streets, navigating through the street markets around the museum. Stay Hungry Stay Foolish as Steve Jobs said, I had both the qualities. Hunger dominated but for a short duration. Finding a nearby restaurant that matched ‘A’ as well as ‘B’ was challenging. But we did find one after a long walk. While going back to the railway station, we all had a mixed feeling in our hearts. Bye-bye Kolkata! But before I take a leave, let me tell why Kolkata is called ‘The City of Joy’. I couldn’t buy books in Kolkata although the city has the largest book market in the whole of Asia. When the train was about to leave, a bookseller came to our coach. Shailesh had sent him. And finally, I could buy books! You see, you cannot leave the city with sorrow in your heart.

Thanks to Shailesh and Anuja for bearing me!