Transportation in kolkata has become an ulcer for me these days. Not that it was any better five years down the line but back then i spent most of my time scurrying off the pedlar occupied pavements of Howrah trying to get to school on time. But now I guess i suddenly grew up, now suddenly the realisation has dawned on me that the buses in kolkata is an Ulcer after all.
Now I have to make an effort to wake up on time, and make an effort to skip breakfast to run early in the morning to catch the bus to college. But then its a "process" as i find to get to college.
There are no direct buses getting there. So i have to constantly walk the 4 stairs up and down constantly when the bus reaches where it should have reached long before at least to my expectations. But fuck my feelings!
I dunno if its just me but i fnd kolkatans lazy. Generations of fish proteins in the intestines have so modified the "bangali-genes" that even on the roads they move like fishes as if suspended in a fluid medium. In offices their fingers move as if little fins scurrying muddy water.
So anyway they sit in the bus half in coma, submitting to the mercy of the eternal cunning man who drives the bus at his own will.
Is it just me that i wonder who keeps looking at my watch while on the bus!
or is it just the Kolkatans who love to sepend a substantial fraction of their lives on the bus and the other fraction on the dining table eating fish curry.
I beg the pardon of every man i have scorned and every soul who read this far uttering a "sala"in their mind.
But i had to write this you know.
This will be my epitaph before i submit myself to the society of dead ambitions.
p.s: long live "jinnabad-jinnabad" :-)
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
unto them thy shall respect
The kolkatans have been tested down the decades for their patience! And on each occasions they have proved to succeed more than satisfactorily.
Since the past decade I have been the only exception if I do not consider them who feel its useless to buy newspapers when it can be managed from fellow passengers on the adjacent seat. These people I respect because they defy the limitations of shamelessness on grounds of humanity and deny any chance of themselves getting to the class of men who prefer to use personal belongings.
Jesus Christ was said to have fed a thousand out of single bread. Men such as these will prove they have fed ten thousand and in the end will have two breads in hand!
Time and again I see them on the streets in organized queues in the middle of the streets with banners of the brighter shades demanding “Answers”
They do not put forward questions though! They are too obvious to be asked, they assume. They shout for answers, people mistake them to be claiming answers form god, but alas!
The seek it from the government…………. On the middle of the road!
But the government gives them a miss!
The government never comes out on the streets!
They find out problems with the most ideal of all situations! For them the modern culture is a hollow sphere!
The last figment disappeared with the Nobel Prize, which is now part of some skinny damsels nose ring!
Alas kolkata why does it sleep when such men seek reason, seek truth, seek the answers of the political nirvana!
Why do we complain when they block roads and burn buses? They are on a quest of enlightment ! must we not honor them?
They are after all a bunch of idiots who are misunderstood! But u must not do so! They are all educated! They all know Marx was the food minister!
They are my personal heroes! One day this city will force me to become another such third class fuck-up. And that day another shit headed free lance writer will read my blog and agree with what I wrote!
But then I will have different view that day!
By then I will have evolved into a monkey!
Friday, January 11, 2008
another travelogue !!!
Things are never quite the same once the festive season thing sets in. Its sort of an infection that’s gets you once you are actually out there on the streets or have your earphones plugged in listening to the radio station playing the same song perhaps for the seventh time of the day.
Anyway I will not beat around the bush. Poila boisakh is a reminder for me that I have to wear the semi-cotton “Punjabi” bought by my mother from “puri” a sea shore city known to all devotees round the globe for temples, to foreigners for local narcotics and to my mother and all other humans of her kind for garments that are not produced anywhere near the town, but which the oriya tradesmen make the Bengali understand so very easily. A pity that COMMON SENSE CAN BE SO UNCOMMON.
Anyway I have put that good for nothing out of fashion thing for two years now and hoped by the this boisakh it would grow too short for me, but I completely forgot that the some garments are evil, they just grow with you.
So excuses aside I finally decided that I would go shopping something I had never done before! I gathered my guts and put together my funds and was on a bus. Now here I wanna seriously say that the fm stations are doing more well than the wireless communications between policemen in kolkata coz the other day I overheard a local sergent saying central avenue was totally blocked and the control room did not know anything about it.
I almost dropped the bus fare I was reaching out to the grumpy conductor with weary eyes smelling of sun and leather, when I heard a mall declaring a whopping 65% off!
I was confused over what reaction I should be having. Should I say “WOW”…but I preferred “WHY?”.
Hmmm…………..I pondered… maybe the owner was heading for a clean and calm life far from the cosmopolitan and by that pledge he probably took some distant days in his schooldays of serving fellow Indians… he was simply fulfilling his oath. What a man of honour he should be…
But the old man dozing in the empty ladies seat evoked sinister thoughts within me… may he was a lying cheat, a shady character, long black over coats… black hats, cigar………..
.
.
.
.
By now the bus was well stuck in a jam near Deshopriyo park and the long queue of cars ahead of us indicated it was more than signal lights playing pranks! Was there an demonstration round?
The footpaths claimed attention! People jostled around! Aunties with their daughters ahead of them, keeping a tight vigil on her movements and an open ear for the best bargain shot at random decibels from the shopkeepers who claimed they were all serving humanity and themselves selling out on loss, and wanted the world to rob them blank.
An occasional street smart. A roadside Romeo with sneaky eyes and an occasional complement for the appropriate……… unexpressed!
I was getting the feel of the whole situation when the bus suddenly lurched ahead…
Finally I reached the mall…. I got in and grew eternally confused. There was multiple choices and I knew only how to deal with four. The jeans looked all the same and yet they had different tags.
The eternal pressure of choice kept building up on me. And I could not possibly decide. I picked up a shirt only to find out it was way above my budget! The best thing was the girls were too quick in this art of shopping.. they just knew what to do, and what to buy.. like it was all in their genes!
I seemed lost in this maze and things potentially looked dangerous when I heard someone say
“ Excuse me sir, may I help you?’
“ Umm…which way is the exit?” I asked
“ Take the right alley” was the perplexed answer.
Anyway I will not beat around the bush. Poila boisakh is a reminder for me that I have to wear the semi-cotton “Punjabi” bought by my mother from “puri” a sea shore city known to all devotees round the globe for temples, to foreigners for local narcotics and to my mother and all other humans of her kind for garments that are not produced anywhere near the town, but which the oriya tradesmen make the Bengali understand so very easily. A pity that COMMON SENSE CAN BE SO UNCOMMON.
Anyway I have put that good for nothing out of fashion thing for two years now and hoped by the this boisakh it would grow too short for me, but I completely forgot that the some garments are evil, they just grow with you.
So excuses aside I finally decided that I would go shopping something I had never done before! I gathered my guts and put together my funds and was on a bus. Now here I wanna seriously say that the fm stations are doing more well than the wireless communications between policemen in kolkata coz the other day I overheard a local sergent saying central avenue was totally blocked and the control room did not know anything about it.
I almost dropped the bus fare I was reaching out to the grumpy conductor with weary eyes smelling of sun and leather, when I heard a mall declaring a whopping 65% off!
I was confused over what reaction I should be having. Should I say “WOW”…but I preferred “WHY?”.
Hmmm…………..I pondered… maybe the owner was heading for a clean and calm life far from the cosmopolitan and by that pledge he probably took some distant days in his schooldays of serving fellow Indians… he was simply fulfilling his oath. What a man of honour he should be…
But the old man dozing in the empty ladies seat evoked sinister thoughts within me… may he was a lying cheat, a shady character, long black over coats… black hats, cigar………..
.
.
.
.
By now the bus was well stuck in a jam near Deshopriyo park and the long queue of cars ahead of us indicated it was more than signal lights playing pranks! Was there an demonstration round?
The footpaths claimed attention! People jostled around! Aunties with their daughters ahead of them, keeping a tight vigil on her movements and an open ear for the best bargain shot at random decibels from the shopkeepers who claimed they were all serving humanity and themselves selling out on loss, and wanted the world to rob them blank.
An occasional street smart. A roadside Romeo with sneaky eyes and an occasional complement for the appropriate……… unexpressed!
I was getting the feel of the whole situation when the bus suddenly lurched ahead…
Finally I reached the mall…. I got in and grew eternally confused. There was multiple choices and I knew only how to deal with four. The jeans looked all the same and yet they had different tags.
The eternal pressure of choice kept building up on me. And I could not possibly decide. I picked up a shirt only to find out it was way above my budget! The best thing was the girls were too quick in this art of shopping.. they just knew what to do, and what to buy.. like it was all in their genes!
I seemed lost in this maze and things potentially looked dangerous when I heard someone say
“ Excuse me sir, may I help you?’
“ Umm…which way is the exit?” I asked
“ Take the right alley” was the perplexed answer.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca
pray that the journey is long.
Here in the city of joy of joy no matter how well planned your journey is, your journey ends up long after all. And so excuses form a part of the introductory session in all the “awphish”.
Here in the city of joy there are millions of excuses to be satisfied with.
My purse had ninety six rupees.
My pocket had a one rupee coin.
Its at least 3 kilometers between Camac Street and new empire movie hall. On a bus it would take 4 rupees and fifty paisa and 20 minutes on an average bus considering all is well in the political hemisphere.
I decide to walk.
Paulo Coelho says in his book the zahir that when we decide to do something new even if the roads are old we end up experiencing something odd. For a change i decide to do something i never did before. I decide to spend the one rupee coin.
Consider a situation where we run after a particular item that stings the urge to be bought. We pursue the path that leads to it. And if it is in our limits of expenditure we end up buying it. But what if i give someone a coin and ask him to spend it. Will not there be a dilemma in the mind as to where the coin may be spent? And after it has been spent, will the person not consider if it was well spent.
I have walked down to the crossing of chowranghee and theater road and found till now there are only two things i can buy with it a cheap cigarette and a chlormint. But i decide to resist. Its the lunch time in the offices. In the situation the one thing that i observed was that not all were hungry. But they ate. They demand everything that is included in the price tag. They claim the worth of their money.
There are more paan shops, small ghumtis, more people selling a cheap cigarette, more chlormint. But i resist.
People hand out ads and pages with usual headinngs..”urgent...please note” etc. but not many even care so much as to glance till the second line. I guess urgency has lost its value. The man hands out the same bill at me. Its about a multigym. He handed the same to the old lady walking before me, which clearly shows that the man is not even aware what message he spreads. Its typical these days, his mission is to spread the word which if he does, he will be paid. The old lady almost collides with another pedestrian while trying to read the bill.
I have reached the park street crossing and i still have not been able to spend one rupee. Its strange. All things i find on the road are supposedly much more costlier.
I try to think a little differently. The value of the coin and the value of the articles the cdroms, the key rings, fancy combs, colorful socks are not same. So lets create an analogy. If i know hebrew and i roam in the streets of Kolkata who would know my worth? None. So maybe thats why we are moving with the times. And its the rule of the time that one rupee isnt worth spending at all.
Its almost esplanade. There had been 26 shops selling lunch, 3 selling posters of gods film stars and actresses revealing provocative thoughts, many selling cigarettes and chlormint.
I reach new empire. The one rupee is still in my pocket. There was a helpless man with an open bowl. I go and give him the coin but the thoughts are not passed on.
The journey was long indeed. Took me half an hour at least.
At least it was worth an incident where nothing happened.
When in the end of the road, you find Ithaca poor,
know that Ithaca has not deceived you
but older have you become in experience
and you must know now what Ithaca means
pray that the journey is long.
Here in the city of joy of joy no matter how well planned your journey is, your journey ends up long after all. And so excuses form a part of the introductory session in all the “awphish”.
Here in the city of joy there are millions of excuses to be satisfied with.
My purse had ninety six rupees.
My pocket had a one rupee coin.
Its at least 3 kilometers between Camac Street and new empire movie hall. On a bus it would take 4 rupees and fifty paisa and 20 minutes on an average bus considering all is well in the political hemisphere.
I decide to walk.
Paulo Coelho says in his book the zahir that when we decide to do something new even if the roads are old we end up experiencing something odd. For a change i decide to do something i never did before. I decide to spend the one rupee coin.
Consider a situation where we run after a particular item that stings the urge to be bought. We pursue the path that leads to it. And if it is in our limits of expenditure we end up buying it. But what if i give someone a coin and ask him to spend it. Will not there be a dilemma in the mind as to where the coin may be spent? And after it has been spent, will the person not consider if it was well spent.
I have walked down to the crossing of chowranghee and theater road and found till now there are only two things i can buy with it a cheap cigarette and a chlormint. But i decide to resist. Its the lunch time in the offices. In the situation the one thing that i observed was that not all were hungry. But they ate. They demand everything that is included in the price tag. They claim the worth of their money.
There are more paan shops, small ghumtis, more people selling a cheap cigarette, more chlormint. But i resist.
People hand out ads and pages with usual headinngs..”urgent...please note” etc. but not many even care so much as to glance till the second line. I guess urgency has lost its value. The man hands out the same bill at me. Its about a multigym. He handed the same to the old lady walking before me, which clearly shows that the man is not even aware what message he spreads. Its typical these days, his mission is to spread the word which if he does, he will be paid. The old lady almost collides with another pedestrian while trying to read the bill.
I have reached the park street crossing and i still have not been able to spend one rupee. Its strange. All things i find on the road are supposedly much more costlier.
I try to think a little differently. The value of the coin and the value of the articles the cdroms, the key rings, fancy combs, colorful socks are not same. So lets create an analogy. If i know hebrew and i roam in the streets of Kolkata who would know my worth? None. So maybe thats why we are moving with the times. And its the rule of the time that one rupee isnt worth spending at all.
Its almost esplanade. There had been 26 shops selling lunch, 3 selling posters of gods film stars and actresses revealing provocative thoughts, many selling cigarettes and chlormint.
I reach new empire. The one rupee is still in my pocket. There was a helpless man with an open bowl. I go and give him the coin but the thoughts are not passed on.
The journey was long indeed. Took me half an hour at least.
At least it was worth an incident where nothing happened.
When in the end of the road, you find Ithaca poor,
know that Ithaca has not deceived you
but older have you become in experience
and you must know now what Ithaca means
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca
pray that the journey is long.
Here in the city of joy of joy no matter how well planned your journey is, your journey ends up long after all. And so excuses form a part of the introductory session in all the “awphish”.
Here in the city of joy there are millions of excuses to be satisfied with.
My purse had ninety six rupees.
My pocket had a one rupee coin.
Its at least 3 kilometers between Camac Street and new empire movie hall. On a bus it would take 4 rupees and fifty paisa and 20 minutes on an average bus considering all is well in the political hemisphere.
I decide to walk.
Paulo Coelho says in his book the zahir that when we decide to do something new even if the roads are old we end up experiencing something odd. For a change i decide to do something i never did before. I decide to spend the one rupee coin.
Consider a situation where we run after a particular item that stings the urge to be bought. We pursue the path that leads to it. And if it is in our limits of expenditure we end up buying it. But what if i give someone a coin and ask him to spend it. Will not there be a dilemma in the mind as to where the coin may be spent? And after it has been spent, will the person not consider if it was well spent.
I have walked down to the crossing of chowranghee and theater road and found till now there are only two things i can buy with it a cheap cigarette and a chlormint. But i decide to resist. Its the lunch time in the offices. In the situation the one thing that i observed was that not all were hungry. But they ate. They demand everything that is included in the price tag. They claim the worth of their money.
There are more paan shops, small ghumtis, more people selling a cheap cigarette, more chlormint. But i resist.
People hand out ads and pages with usual headinngs..”urgent...please note” etc. but not many even care so much as to glance till the second line. I guess urgency has lost its value. The man hands out the same bill at me. Its about a multigym. He handed the same to the old lady walking before me, which clearly shows that the man is not even aware what message he spreads. Its typical these days, his mission is to spread the word which if he does, he will be paid. The old lady almost collides with another pedestrian while trying to read the bill.
I have reached the park street crossing and i still have not been able to spend one rupee. Its strange. All things i find on the road are supposedly much more costlier.
I try to think a little differently. The value of the coin and the value of the articles the cdroms, the key rings, fancy combs, colorful socks are not same. So lets create an analogy. If i know hebrew and i roam in the streets of Kolkata who would know my worth? None. So maybe thats why we are moving with the times. And its the rule of the time that one rupee isnt worth spending at all.
Its almost esplanade. There had been 26 shops selling lunch, 3 selling posters of gods film stars and actresses revealing provocative thoughts, many selling cigarettes and chlormint.
I reach new empire. The one rupee is still in my pocket. There was a helpless man with an open bowl. I go and give him the coin but the thoughts are not passed on.
The journey was long indeed. Took me half an hour at least.
At least it was worth an incident where nothing happened.
When in the end of the road, you find Ithaca poor,
know that Ithaca has not deceived you
but older have you become in experience
and you must know now what Ithaca means
pray that the journey is long.
Here in the city of joy of joy no matter how well planned your journey is, your journey ends up long after all. And so excuses form a part of the introductory session in all the “awphish”.
Here in the city of joy there are millions of excuses to be satisfied with.
My purse had ninety six rupees.
My pocket had a one rupee coin.
Its at least 3 kilometers between Camac Street and new empire movie hall. On a bus it would take 4 rupees and fifty paisa and 20 minutes on an average bus considering all is well in the political hemisphere.
I decide to walk.
Paulo Coelho says in his book the zahir that when we decide to do something new even if the roads are old we end up experiencing something odd. For a change i decide to do something i never did before. I decide to spend the one rupee coin.
Consider a situation where we run after a particular item that stings the urge to be bought. We pursue the path that leads to it. And if it is in our limits of expenditure we end up buying it. But what if i give someone a coin and ask him to spend it. Will not there be a dilemma in the mind as to where the coin may be spent? And after it has been spent, will the person not consider if it was well spent.
I have walked down to the crossing of chowranghee and theater road and found till now there are only two things i can buy with it a cheap cigarette and a chlormint. But i decide to resist. Its the lunch time in the offices. In the situation the one thing that i observed was that not all were hungry. But they ate. They demand everything that is included in the price tag. They claim the worth of their money.
There are more paan shops, small ghumtis, more people selling a cheap cigarette, more chlormint. But i resist.
People hand out ads and pages with usual headinngs..”urgent...please note” etc. but not many even care so much as to glance till the second line. I guess urgency has lost its value. The man hands out the same bill at me. Its about a multigym. He handed the same to the old lady walking before me, which clearly shows that the man is not even aware what message he spreads. Its typical these days, his mission is to spread the word which if he does, he will be paid. The old lady almost collides with another pedestrian while trying to read the bill.
I have reached the park street crossing and i still have not been able to spend one rupee. Its strange. All things i find on the road are supposedly much more costlier.
I try to think a little differently. The value of the coin and the value of the articles the cdroms, the key rings, fancy combs, colorful socks are not same. So lets create an analogy. If i know hebrew and i roam in the streets of Kolkata who would know my worth? None. So maybe thats why we are moving with the times. And its the rule of the time that one rupee isnt worth spending at all.
Its almost esplanade. There had been 26 shops selling lunch, 3 selling posters of gods film stars and actresses revealing provocative thoughts, many selling cigarettes and chlormint.
I reach new empire. The one rupee is still in my pocket. There was a helpless man with an open bowl. I go and give him the coin but the thoughts are not passed on.
The journey was long indeed. Took me half an hour at least.
At least it was worth an incident where nothing happened.
When in the end of the road, you find Ithaca poor,
know that Ithaca has not deceived you
but older have you become in experience
and you must know now what Ithaca means
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