Getting Around In Kolkata

Getting around in Kolkata can be strange at worst, or an exhilerating experience at best. No matter which, it is bound to be an eperience you cannot forget. Nor can you replicate it in any corner of the world.


Commuting from Sector V, Salt Lake to Theatre Road (or to any other part of the world) could leave you breathless. And I tried to do this at half past eight in the morning.

Being the technology hub of West Bengal (for all that is worth as a tag), this place comes to life only at 10 in the morning. After that, posibly, but defunitely not before. For the enterprising Bengali spirit does not allow the bhodroloks or bhodromohilas (i am trying not to sound sexist here) to venture out before a certain hour. This hour varies from one member of the species to another but is rarely before 10. So this is the scenario that awaits you if you try to look for a taxi anytime before that hour. Because there just aren't any around.

Waiting for a taxi certainly gives you options. The first option to present itself was a private car, the driver ferrying the car from one place to another without employer supervision, making some money on the side. I thought I would wait for a taxi. Carried on waiting, but the taxi didn't appear. Quite soon, I was running out of patience and running into ample sweat. This was when the next option presented itself. Known in this part of the world as shaadaa mini, these are racing equipments (much like most other beings on Kolkata roads) disguised as buses. And one must see it to believe it. Well, this one was a shaadaa mini, to distinguish them from their non-shaadaa cousins from the (almost) F1 circuit. Getting a place to sit was not an issue.

I decided to get down to reading. Though the way the bus was swaying owing basically to the driver's demonstration of his geometric genius by drawing near perfect sine curves on the road in his attempts at getting ahead of every single living creature on the road, no matter it's denomination, reading was to be an exercise in futility.

So I decided to look out of the window. Wonderful day, with the beauty of nature being recently washed by rain. No wonder, I thought, about the person who had told me about the delight of watching the scenery outside the bus when travelling in these parts of the world ... After all, you don't have much choice do you? Not really given that you would much prefer to keep your eyes glued outside the bus, hoping to supplement the driver's sight if not his brains. And try to swallow your internals into the same place where they were before they decided to take an exit route following your alighting the mechanical monster. And trying to keep your legs steady once you are off it. That should keep you occupied enough to keep your eyes on the road ... And in the process also feel the soothing touch of Mother Nature... Specially along the Bypass.

You can also watch from the sidelines the highly intellectual debate between the bus conductor and a passenger about whether the fare should be Rs. 8 or Rs. 9, culminating in the passenger challenging the bus conductor's knowledge of bus fares (that's only his job after all, while being a topic of passion for the passenger) and the bus conductor inviting the gentleman to not avail the services of the bus.

PS: Park Street retains her charms even at this time of day.

Bongs (Not Original)

What do you call:


A mad Bengali?

In Sen.

A dark Bengali who lives in a cave?

Kalidas Guha.

A Bengali mobster?

Robin Ganguli.

A perfumed Bengali?

Chandan Dass

A Bengali goldsmith?

Shonar Bongla.

What's bigger than the state of Bengal?

The Bay of Bengal (or the cubic volume of hot air in their heads?).

An angry Bengali letter?

Chitti-chitti Bong Bong.

A talkative Bengali?

Bulbul Chatterjee (or the entire population of Bengal? thats all they do in the first place!).

An outlawed Bengali?

Kanoon Banerjee or Bonduk Bannerjee.

An enlightened Bengali?

Jyoti Basu.

A stupid Bengali girl?

Balika Buddhu.

A Bengali marriage?

Bedding.

What do you call a Bengali who takes bribe?

Mr. Ghoosh.

What does a ghati call a burping Bong?

Mukhopadhaya

How does the Bong learn the alphabet?

A for Orange, B for Begetable....

How does a Bong relax in the evening?

He goes to the Howrah Breej to get some Briz.

What does a Bong with a broken heart say?

'My hurt is hearting'

And finally, what do you call a Bengali who works?

A work of fiction.

True Story ...

So this is not an original ... but then, if its true, why does it need to be? Well ... heres one which you might want to hear. And one which the girls dont know about (and maybe we should keep it this way ... dont wannt antagonize them, do we?).

Well, in a time distant ... there was Adam ... roaming The Garden! He was having a really good time. He could go out for a drink whenever he wanted to. He could come back home when he pleased, sleep late, in general, do whatever he pleased. And then, one day, he had an idea ... Wouldnt it be nice to have someone to talk to? In this frame of mind, he approached God. And he asked ... God, can i have someone to talk with? God, in His wisdom, said ... Yes, my son ... you shall have a companion. She shall be called Eve, and she shall be the best thing to have happened to you. You wouldnt be able to ask for anything better. And this caught Adam's attention ... Tell me more, he said.

Well ... God said ... She shall be the perfect companion. First of all, she shall never go shopping. She shall have an extreme allergy to expensive new clothes, to perfumes, and to any kinds of cosmetics. Hence, she shall stay away from all of these. In short, she shall never go shopping. She will always listen to you. And, she will never argue with you. She will, after you have had your say, apologize to you even if (hold your breath, friends!), the mistake was yours. She shall never complain about anything, and will take care of you and your home without any complaints. She will have absolutely no problems with you drinking Beer, and your boy's evenings out. Hmmm ... Interesting ... thought Adam. And then he turned to God, and asked ... Father, how much is she going to cost me? (for he also knew, in his Smithonian form, that there is no such thing as a free lunch!) ... God quickly did some costing calculations, and told him ... My son, she is going to cost you an arm and a leg. Adam thought, and then he thought some more. God of course told him that this was a limited period offer, so he had to make up his mind fast. Like, in the next 5 seconds. Inspired by the idea of getting a good deal, Adam decided to bargain (a la Janpath, or Fashion Street!). He asked God ... what do i get for a rib? (the rest, of course, is history ... the 5 seconds were over!)

Marriage ... Forever!

There are a few who believe that the marriage of institution has changed ... that it has evolved over a period of time, along with the evolution of the human species. To all of them, i would say ... i disagree. Well ... the basic concept of marriage has been incorporated into a picture (whoever said a picture speaks louder than a thousand words ... and i did google to try to find who uttered these words, but failed ... really knew his Beans from his Bacon!) ... this picture speaks more than a whole lot of words. Speaks for the lifetimes of generations of married men? I would think it does.


In case you were wondering what this picture is ...


Interesting picture ... though, it begins even more interesting if you try to analyze it. For, there are a number of very interesting things which come out of this picture!

To begin with ... lets analyze this picture from the dimension of time ... the actions of the harried man would have totally different meanings depending on the presence or absence of a little strip of metal around his finger ...


Before marriage ... This is the usual male way of pleading with the woman to make his life full (poor fellow, he is not yet married, so how is he to know that a life thats full is also a life thats finished!). He will go to the extent of giving her his credit card, for her to spend as she wishes, if she will just rule his heart. From the vantage point of his heart, she could swipe and swipe, till the card melts, for all he cares ... plastic is renewable, love isnt, after all. Of course, the view from where he is doesnt hurt either! For centuries, men have left no stone unturned to please their mate. Actually, they probably had no choice. And fuelling this fire is the picture of the Taj Mahal with the caption ...

And to think, today's men get away by gifting flowers and chocolates to their wives!

This must have been designed by a geriatric, well beyond the "have to gift" stage, only to egg on their daughters to a new stage of marital bliss.


After marriage ... well ... he seems to be saying just one thing ... Please take this credit card ... i implore you ... take this credit card, and spend all you wish, my dear ... but please ... oh please ... spare me! After all, plastic is renewable, but life isnt!