Kolkata Kaleidoscope - Chapter n.2

A new Kolkata dawn brought nothing but even broader smiles on our faces and blue coloured outfits out of each of our suitcases. It was day 2 and so began our city exploration with an "early" morning walk. Accoutered in azure almost matching the perfect skies above us, we were already out and about by 9 am, hence "early" is established and I don't want any more doubts in your heads about this as I proceed further. Now, shall we?

We set our hearts, minds and Google Maps towards the nearest eatery serving Dosas for breakfast. Why Dosas? It has the simplest answer - I love Masala Dosas and I was craving for some that morn; no, it was not because my gf is South Indian, how could you even jump to that conclusion? Well, subconsciously I might have wanted her to feel at home. Whom am I kidding, I am not that tender? *grins* Plus she is not that into Masala Dosas, but prefers a Plain Dosa. *gasps* Can you believe it? Moving on...

The still deserted alleyways of the 10 different 'para' we romped through had similar sights to offer - of milkmen winding up their daily milk-route, children on their walk to local schools - the excitement to attend the last day before holidays was already showing on their sunburnt faces, customers queuing in front of corner tea-stalls serving hot tea with buns, 'Ghugni' and bakery biscuits, office-goers pacing towards the nearest bus-stops, and local kirana stores lifting up their thunderous shutters serving as an official announcement, "We are now open for business." One of the streets seemed to converge to a dead-end from afar and as we were preparing ourselves to be scathing towards Google Maps, we could see a line of humans steering us towards a sharp left who were all awaiting their turn at the 'India Post' post-office counter. A few steps further and we stumbled upon the tiniest of sculptors' workshops. He was hard at work airbrushing Durga Ma's feet with the ruby "Aalta" hue meticulously. We sought his permission and for the next few minutes buried ourselves into examining the perfection in his artwork and the idols he had brought to life. Jubilant with the fragrance of Durga Puja mornings, we left his workshop and trod along towards the waft of rice batter being fried in oil a few feet away.

Halfway through our scrumptious meal we were accompanied by a little friend, she was the daughter of the owner of this quaint restaurant. Her mother seemingly weary of chasing after her toddler, who continued to avoid her breakfast Cerelac, sought hope in us. And it worked! Encouraged by our mouthfuls and in awe of our strange faces, the rate of breakfast slipping down her gullet unwittingly hastened, as her mother let out a sigh of relief. After a small selfie session with us, she bid her tiny goodbye to us, and we carried on towards the nearest 'Pandal,' a work-in-progress with bamboos still supporting the structural framework. A quick look around at the guarded compound and we made, what seemed to be, the longest and the most arduous sweaty walk towards an auto-rickshaw stand ever made. Now she (my gf) had never seen a more congested main road before - she frowned upon the demarcation-less streets, the barely 18 ft main road with oncoming traffic from both sides, intersected with the rickshaw stand which then intersected subsequently with the footpath. Pedestrians, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, public buses, cars, and all forms of 2-3-4-6-wheelers everywhere and amidst this chaos we stood in an almost perfect queue, waiting our turn for an auto-rickshaw ride.

She was dumb-founded as to how everything could still function amidst such pandemonium. Now you might ask me why on earth did I not book a taxi, the yellow one would be nice, looks nice in movies? Well! I didn't want her to miss out, Kolkata is an experience and this very much forms an integral part of it. I had many other forms of said experience planned for her - tickling all sensory organs, if you will or will nah-ah, whatever!

All would be done but not before a pitstop at a hair salon. She wanted to tame her mane so I took her to the salon I frequented when I lived here a few years ago. It was Durga Puja and I should have anticipated the waiting time, we couldn't afford such luxury in time, having had already exhausted our quota for standing in queue at the rickshaw stand. So I proceeded to choose (from the almighty Google Maps) the nearest salon - lo and behold, it was a sports themed salon. That should have been my cue to abort the current mission and proceed to what was next in our loosely structured itinerary. Instead I pressed on and I hardly noticed the nervousness brewing in her eyes. While at the salon everyone proceeded to pass the baton to the next person as no one knew how to trim a woman's hair into a boy cut - a sports salon with not so sporty attitude. Seeing this unanticipated reaction unfold in front of our eyes, we excused ourselves and headed for the narrow exit. It was an unpleasant experience for her and something about the hushed words in a foreign language hurt her deeply and we landed into a squabble. I was disillusioned by the joy that a haircut would provide her, that even in a very inconducive setting I impelled her towards it, having missed all the shifts in her body language. I am not going to lie here, after that incident it was touch-and-go whether she would continue her trip with me. It is funny to think now but you learn as you go, you see? Relationships are a learning curve and sometimes that curve manifests into a very real shape in the form of an arm twist and you have to oblige. You get the picture? I am only kidding. But seriously I did book the uber after that, no auto-rickshaw, not even the yellow taxi and no waiting , my friend. In a desperate attempt to wipe her memory off the Kolkata experience, I tried it all and with it I remember wiping my Kajal and sunblock too. I was pissed as well! Well, I don't even have to tell you how ludicrous that dim-witted reflex was, my Kajal smeared all over, rethinking the smudge-proof purchase- a marketing gimmick that had smudged all over my self respect, I stared outside the uber window hardly able to see through the black goop that had by now overcast my pupils and eye lashes; the sun-screen had only worsened the viscosity. We were now on our way to the Birla Planetarium, I know many of you might be having a laughing fit right about now, but we love the universe; they would be playing that audio visual for the nth time and I was still into it.

Having sorted our differences during that ride, somewhere between her pointing at the old dilapidated houses and me struggling to focus my cornea towards them, we reached our destination. The sun was beating down, there was a long line of school kids and a lot of middle aged adults without kids, I might add. Perhaps they shared an equal appetite of being illuminated so; only kidding, ironically they were there to exploit the darkness. As we queued for the second time that day under the blazing sun, I was reminded of the wasted sunscreen, now only living amongst my eyelashes and blotches at random facial locales. We got the tickets, as we still had some time on our hands before the show, we loitered about for a few minutes and I pointed out all the differently coloured public buses we had in this city to her; I love the colours so she kindly obliged. It was time for the show now and we queued once again to follow the line towards our seats. It was strange to queue twice for a singular thing but there was a strict code of conduct there unlike anywhere else in Kolkata that I knew of. We were ecstatic and couldn't wait for the visuals to unfold in front of our eyes, but sadly the pixels were not close enough to hold my attention for more than 10 mins. Boy did I have a siesta! And for all the remaining 45 or so minutes of it, I didn't budge and was nestled in my noon-day dreams. All the time was lost. It was already 2.30 or so in the afternoon and I had been an extremely bad guide so far. It was like I had led her to a sensory deprivation tank for 5 hours; it seldom happens that your plan is the exact polar opposite to the reality. Now that I had checked that atypical eventuality off my list, it was time to have some roadside Bhelpuri and Chaat. They tasted divine; having had starved literally in all possible ways, we guzzled 2-3 platefuls of each variety (lost the exact count.) In an effort to redeem myself, I led her to the nearby St. Paul's Cathedral. I should emphasize the absoluteness of the peace and quiet existing here. This reminded me of the pin-drop silence, a long forgotten word that the teachers at our school over-used and nagged us about. I had visited the cathedral before with a dear friend but the beauty of the structure and the serenity within its walls still enchants me everytime I visit. Before we left, we stood outside for a while appreciating the Gothic beauty as she narrated all she had read in her college books about this marvel that stood before us. We especially reminisced whatever remained now of the stained glass windows which may have once glistened gloriously in the sunlight.

The sun was now slowly inching His way towards the horizon, I assume probably battered and tired from His own incandescence. It had been a particular rough day for Him. Energized and reinvigorated from the serenity and the recent intake of junk food, we decided to take a brisk walk towards the Victoria Memorial. The street sheltered by woods provided an afternoon breeze as we trod on with hopes in our hearts to still salvage the remains of the day. I had only ever walked in the vicinity of Maidan, never really venturing inside the gates surrounding this Colonial and eclectic work of art. We made our way through the prepossessing gardens with its historic flora and fauna and before we knew it, we were standing in front of this colossal architectural paragon. We inspected all the statues, and the building from all sides; she explained to me of some peculiar elements and facts about them and some I am sure she made up to impress me, we both had fun in the process. It was almost 5 and by this time the rain started to pour. We sought shelter under a tree in the Victoria gardens waiting in anticipation for a drizzle as we still had so much more left unexplored. And so it did after a while; this time our disappointment and anger had worn off to such an extent that I felt it was finally time for a yellow taxi. I immediately booked one and we hopped on. Off we went chasing after the obscure sunlight.

Next up was the Fort William; unfortunately we were past the entry time so I just pointed towards it from afar as we came to a halt near Princep Ghat. I had been waiting for the boat ride all day hence I hurried her towards the boats, notwithstanding the recent damper in our spirits. Yes! I was ecstatic because the boats were still lined up. Not losing any more time, I bargained with one of the boatmen and settled on the legitimate fare for a half-an-hour sail. Here we were introduced to a stranger who was alone and also wanted to enjoy an evening boat-ride like us but was apprehensive without a company. What was planned to be a tryst now became an evening, where unbeknownst, we made a new friend in the most innocent and unforeseeable way. She was like us in spirit; enjoying the setting sun, we talked sparingly because we were all enamored by the twilight, the tranquil breeze and the gentle sway of the boat as it rowed along. We introduced ourselves and so did she. She was a first year law student in the city from Gujrat and all she wanted was to experience the furore of Durga Puja before she went home. We talked and exchanged notes on the city, my gf giving occasional notes to her on which buildings to visit when in Ahmedabad. Our boat took a u-turn under the Vidyasagar Setu as we three wondered in amazement. The evening prayer bells rang in a distance as it was time to disembark and bid our goodbyes.

We were climbing up the ghats when a group of hooligans began eve-teasing. Within a second I confronted them in the hopes of subduing it and nipping it in the bud, but it was a gang of boys and they clearly felt invincible. We decided to step away in order to avoid exacerbation of the matter. As we were leaving the scene, they kept barking behind us and my gf was in no mood to let it go this time around. She walked back in anger, placed herself face to face with one of the more loquacious ones and voiced back, the steadfastness clearly intimidated them but the noticeable ego kept them from backing off; our new friend and I rushed to drag her by the arm and bring her away from them. There were a few exchange of words but it grew fainter as we deliberately walked away. We then looked for police officers nearby to report the incident but sadly there were none at the nearest booth. It worked us up a little but then we deflected ourselves to focus on the next destination, Kumurtuli.

Somewhere along the way on our second yellow taxi ride of the day, our new friend decided to tag along and spend the evening with us, gallivanting through the streets of the famous potters' colony. The taxi driver dropped us off at the edge of the street leading into Kumurtuli, but not before I took his number for the sight-seeing plan of day 3 in Kolkata. Crossing the man road, we entered the lane and so we tramped twisting and turning as the narrow alleys desired, peeping into the tiny workshops with mammoth idols of the Goddess. Surrounded by colours and stomping through the puddles and the muddy lanes, I rediscovered my childhood once again. We sought permissions of the craftsmen hard at work, before we entered into one such tiny workshop.

It had makeshift levels where differently themed Durga idols were being sculpted by various artists. It was difficult to climb down to one such levels which had a very decorative idol. We wanted to catch a glimpse of such a stunning work of art from as near as possible. It was our only chance so we dared to manoeuvre our bodies that athletically and helped each other down the steep descent. After the detailed and close admiration and a few selfies with the Goddess of course (which She was onboard with, I assume,) we struggled to perch back, atop the bamboo substructure that held a lot of the upper level together. We wrestled against gravity and climbed one leg at a time, occasionally scraping our elbows and knees; our friend managed it all without a glitch but at the end her kurti got caught in one of the bamboo edges and it ripped apart a portion of the clothing. Not to worry we exclaimed as my gf and I took turns to guard her from behind as we continued to make quite a few more visits to other workshops.

We found a sculptor chipping away at the tiniest Durga idol ever. We were fascinated by his precision and concentration. Intrigued by a nearby hullabaloo, we proceeded to join a procession of workers singing and chanting, "Bolo Durga Mai ki, Jai!" As they pulled the idol through the streets, dragging the huge idol towards a parked truck nearby, we followed them and suddenly we were at the exit. It was almost 8.30 but I still decided to try my luck and see if we could grab a bite to eat at the famous Indian Coffee House in College Street. We invited our friend to join us. We managed to reach but sadly they wouldn't take our orders as the window for placing orders was past by 15 mins. I sadly still perused through the menu and we made a decision to get a quick dinner at the closest open restaurant as it was already 9 pm.

We trudged through the dark and almost abandoned streets, exhausted from the day's pursuits and reached a dimly lit cafe. It was a quaint little place with caricatures and cartoons representative of the city. We were hungry as it was our second proper meal of the day after breakfast. The food was average but we still chomped on because of hunger and also for the fear of missing the last metro towards our individual homes, which were in opposite directions and pretty far away from where we now were. Having paid our bills, we scurried through the deserted street. Keeping to main roads we reached the metro station where we could hear the loud speaker announcing the departure of the last metro towards our home. Hastily we urged our companion of the day to run towards the station as she only had a few minutes to catch hers. We bid our final goodbyes in a few seconds, thankfully she had shared her Instagram account with my gf already or else she would have vanished into the night almost like a superhero, which would be cool but also quite sad. As she left we proceeded to book an uber with no yellow taxi in sight. Ubers kept cancelling on us before we finally got someone ready to drop us off at our destination. On reaching, the flat gates were locked so we had to cajole the guard into opening it for us. Knackered, we dragged each other and somehow climbed all the floors to finally be able to sink our behinds on the oh so welcoming bed. We quickly refreshed ourselves, reflected on the day which was nothing short of a series of near misses, albeit sprinkled with a few wins along the way. We were glad to have had an amazing conclusion to a day which had a rather morose start. We waited for another half an hour for our new friend to reach her hostel, sometimes worrying in between when we got a delayed response since it was around 11.30 pm already. Finally relieved that she had reached her destination safely, wishing her a goodnight, we dozed off to sleep almost instantaneously. As I sunk deeper into sleep, I could only hear Ma's "agomon dhwani" in a distance. "Day 3 - see you soon then?" I muttered subconsciously under my heavy breaths.