As Durgatinashini visits the earthlings, year 2014

Been a few days since the euphoria around the biggest Bong fest came to an end for this year. I know being in Kolkata, there should have been a post on Durga Puja sooner, well here it is, a little late.

In the three years that we are in Kolkata, this is the first time we actually went out to see and enjoy the occasion. In this city, every nook and corner, every road, each by lane probably has a sarbojonin pujo shomiti ready with their agenda and theme of pujo' (henceforth I will continue using pujo instead of puja...gives it that flavour u know!). Sarbojonin pujo, for the uninitiated, is a 'democratic' pujo, of the people by the people. Everyone in the vicinity puts in a donation amount (by will or by force, democracy, remember?) known as chanda and that fund is used to perform the rituals and other important activities. A shomiti is a committee, so it's a "Democratic Pujo Committee", that heads all the activities related to that particular pujo.

I have a lurking belief that these 'other important activities' have come to the forefront and pujo just an excuse. But then these 'other important activities' are mostly fun - cultural programs by the locals including music, dance and plays, sometimes popular artists are invited to perform. Various competitions are held among the local residents, in tune with the occasion, like conch sounding, alpona or rangoli, dhunuchi dance (long stemmed earthenware with embers of coconut husk sprinkled with incense creating a smokey atmosphere), cooking, some places have food stalls put up by the locals, .

We, along with a few friends, started our journey around 12:30 am, just after midnight. My baby deep in sleep, with his new dress on and his "shobuj joto" - green shoes in my bag. Just in case he decided to wake up and wanted to walk - good that we packed his shoes, because that soon happened!

At the first pandal we walked right inside a sea. The entrance was through a corridor lined with waves, various schools of fish and sea weeds on both sides. As we entered we were greeted by the sound of the waves - clever play on the second sense to take the viewer to the desired location! There were visible waves too created using plastic tea cup stacks. These transparent objects in bunches were very creatively used to depict the curly, foamy waves. The beach was complete with litter strewn on one side and a sand sculpture of the goddess' face on the other.

The next place we went had a preachy theme - conserve earth, reduce, reuse, recycle. They too had a lot of plastic figurines made of cellophane and other plastic materials. It was around 2 am then and suddenly hubs spotted tiny eyes looking curiously at things around. He was up and soon realized he was still out which made him immensely happy. But he refused to walk so had to carry him around for the rest of the places.

Then we saw one pujo pandal themed as a tribute to the yesteryear  actress, Suchitra Sen. The walls adorned posters of her famous movies, dialogues and her pictures. Another pandal was a creative description of death, with red and white all over the place along with disfigured dolls of the gods hanging all around, the pandal was kind of creepy. Yet another had a Chinese inspired decor, even the idol had a lot more hands than the regular ten - probably even she couldn't rely on the Chinese hands/goods and wanted some backup!

When we reached the Chinese pandal it would have been around 3 am and we had to push through a crowd to see the pujo and were not allowed to stand there and see the idol properly. People ARE a crazy lot here!

Around 4 am my little one decided to call it a day and was sound asleep. We tugged on for a couple of more hours before heading back home.

Pandal hopping was an exciting experience and to see the dawn break while stuck at a traffic jam, priceless!

Pics courtesy a dear friend.

Tryst with a Temple

We have been planning to visit the Birla Temple, Ballygunge, Kolkata, ever since we landed in the city. However, the visit happened just a couple of weeks back, on a rainy Saturday evening. Probably that was not the most suitable day to visit the place after all.

We parked the car in the lane next to it, there are no provision for car park - the place also has the well known Birla Auditorium which plays host to many a renown artists round the year. Anyway, nit-picking aside, we parked it a little down the road, away from the temple. As it was drizzling lightly and my baby was sleeping, we left him with his grand parents in the car. Hubbs and I went ahead for a little 'together' time in the temple!

As we reached the temple gates we met the 'al(l)mighty' - more powerful than the idols standing inside. Any guesses? Ah! Right you are , they are the Security Guards. "Bag dekhan - show your bags", "juto opasher ghore rakhun - keep shoes in that room over there", "camera nite parben na, bhetore locker o nei, ekjon ekjon kore opore jaan - you cannot carry the camera with you, there are no lockers to keep it, so go one by one." Well those were the orders we received and that ended any time together. 

I decided to go ahead. Rains had made the entry point totally messy and dirty. There was a rag of a thin coir carpet over one side of the white marble stairs. The pristine white marbles were not all that water friendly and coir was definitely a better option to walk on.

Once I reached the courtyard, the expanded podium gave a feeling of being free. Alas! There was a security lady there checking the bags once again for any food or water or what not. I reached her while a heated exchange over a bottle of water was going on with an elderly lady.

I walked up a couple of more steps and reached a corridor sort of place. It had pictures of various episodes of Krishna's life etched around the walls. There were two busts on either side, a lady and a gentleman, guess they are the Birla's in whose memory the temple was erected. There were few families sitting in the corridor in front of the busts. Some children running about playing catch. The security had a problem with that too, I remembered reading the list of Not to do's at the gate which said keep your children to yourself. 

The main deity, Radha Krishna duo, also made of marble and draped in expensive clothes and jewelry looked beautiful. An angry looking priest was sitting in front. I looked at the deity and then at the priest, wondered what had happened between the three. The devotees were to keep a distance from the front of the entrance to that room in which the deity were there, so something must have happened between the three of them only!

I went round the place, the intricate works on marble looked beautiful but were pretty dirty. Not sure how on a rainy day there could be so much dirt - did they not clean it everyday? Well, devotees were not allowed to touch any thing any how. So blame it on the wind.

There were two other rooms in the main temple - one belonged to Shiva and the other to Durga. I visited them too. The priests there looked rather bored. I walked out to the courtyard again. On one corner there was a room for Hanuman and another room housing the various 'avatar's of Krishna. 

People were scattered in that courtyard, chatting among themselves. I could see groups of foreigners in the crowd too. The view from the top was just the city traffic in the front and buildings on the sides. That was all there to see, so I went down and out of the place. 

Hubbs had been clicking away the roadside, temple as seen from the road and the vehicles on the road. But the most exciting picture was that of the moon that evening, never thought our Cannon would focus that far.

(So you know how I feel about that place, if anyone visiting Kolkata wants to visit that place, please don't ask me for company!)

In Search of enLIGHTenment

We had been planning to buy some fancy lamp shades for our house for sometime now. Last weekend we finally made the trip to Ezra Street, part of the wholesale electronic goods market, in search of the perfect light. What an interesting trip it turned out to be.

Hubby and I took the metro from Garia, the half hour journey was uneventful and we alighted at the Central station. This was the first time I was there. OMG, how massive that construction was. On my own I might have had to ask a dozen people for help to go out of the desired gate. Salute to the metro designer/planners for making such a maze for public to play with on a daily basis, that too free!

After resurfacing we looked for Poddar Court - a reputed commercial complex known for its office spaces and electronic goods market. From the metro exit we walked into a market area, filthy road, goods vehicles parked on the sides, human carriers running about with loads on their head or back. We crossed this mess of a road to reach the huge Poddar Court complex. The Jakia street, where this building is, is a one way and vehicles are not allowed to park or stop there by order. The hand carts an exception and in plenty - maybe because they are not motorized vehicles?

That building was full of shops selling electrical goods - fans, lights, fittings. We walked into a big shop, the dazzlers all neatly hooked up. I loved a couple of them, but the sales person was irritated, "aapni egulo niye ki korben, porishkar rakhte parben na. Lagiyei toh bhule jaben." (Why do you want to take these, you won't be able to clean them. You will fix them and forget.) Well, he repeated that for almost all the things that I looked twice at. So we walked out and into a smaller shop this time. The lights were pretty and so were their prices. After these two encounters, we went looking for Ezra Street, the right light place, as was recommended by our friends.

It's a narrow but very busy street. Small tempo trucks, hand carts and human carriers with big loads on themselves blocked the street. However, people were freely moving in and out with numerous boxes in hand. We chose to enter a shop close to the entrance. The elegance of the place was lesser in comparison to the Poddar Court shops. With the drop in show the prices dipped too. Things which we had seen in the earlier shops were available at much lower rates.

We thought of exploring the shops further down the road. A little ahead, where the road narrowed a bit more, we saw a light 'bazaar' on the right. It was full of lamp shades, heaps of them on the tables and loads still in boxes. The place reminded me of the general vegetable market. Some of the hanging lights were lit. There were shops after shops in that little place. With no showmanship the prices slashed drastically. We were amazed by the collection and their prices. We hopped around with lust and greed reflecting from our eyes for those lovely shiny things.

There were chandeliers that would change colors, one would rotate, on another we could play music using an USB stick, lamps in various shapes and sizes, handmade and China cut, wood, brass or steel bracket. Phew!

After checking out most of the shops there, we decided to buy some. We picked a ceramic chandelier, one set of spotlights and two sets of marble printed double shades. This was all we could carry, so had to call it a day.

By then it was lunch time and the lovely smell of the street food cried out to us. With a tummy load of kachori-sabji-jalebi and our 'light' boxes, we were too heavy to walk to the metro station, so we caught a running taxi and jumped in.

The second visit will happen soon and more pictures will be added here of the shining place - this time we were too dazzled to click. Do check back!

Confrontation With The Other: Part 2

So the next day started with a nervous undertone in our household. I forced hubby to office and cajoled my dad to sit inside, in case they came home. The masis create unpleasant situations/scenarios, hurl obscenities, make rude comments at male negotiators or any male member of the house, we were told.

I was tensed, apprehensive - I had already given them hope of earning. The starry figures I had been hearing since the earlier evening had created a fear within. How much will they ask? 

I was startled by any little noise, couldn't finish my breakfast, listened to endless advices from all around and waited for the dreaded call. My heartbeat going faster with every passing minute.

Finally the white phone rang around eleven in the late morning. Security guard handed over the phone to the leader of the masi gang. I mentioned we were ready to pay Rs.3,000, she laughed and said,  "the railway platform beggers pay that and you are offering only that much?" As I hiked a little more I was compared to a vegetable vendor then to a grocery store help n so on. Then she quoted their price - it was Rs.25,000.

She soon started using choicest profanity, went on to cry for sympathy, then threatened a bit. She even dared to say that we need not pay anything, instead they would pay us hefty amount if my hubby married one of them! Mom and dad were continually signing for me to maintain my cool. But it was becoming very damn difficult. The phone call went on and on - all this while my baby was waiting to be bathed and fed.

The marathon phone call lasted for about two hours and the final price was set at Rs.10,000. Then they informed that one of their members would come to collect the money and the usuals. Usuals? Well, we learned that usuals would be 5 KG rice and 5 KG dal (lentil), 1Litre oil, masalas, vegetables and a new saree!

We just packed some of the things from that list which was available in the kitchen and a new saree along with the money and handed over to the harmless looking representative, who, we learnt, was a new recruit.

She performed some puja with a handful of mustard seeds and a one rupee coin. She wanted to dance with the baby and bless him too. But I had had enough and asked her to leave. She agreed and handed me a visiting card of her 'gurumata' (the Don), as a receipt of the money. In case other groups came to us we could show this card and buy our respite.

This incident made me question a lot of things:

1) who informed them? Any of our help or any employee of the apartment? or the hospital (as they had claimed)? 

2) who or what gives them the courage to overpower public to extort money in this manner?

3) why no one dares to voice out against them? The neighbours, the security, the police no one helped, why?

Well, I didn't get the answers. With time the terror and the anger faded from memory and I too, like everyone else forgot the questions. Life went on as usual. 

Confrontation With The Other : part-1

Our bundle of joy is a year and half. In the past year we have learned to live, love, laugh - also cry together at times. This incident, which I am about to narrate, happened approximately a year ago, when we were still new to each other, but happy all the same.

We live in a very big residential complex in the southern suburbs of Kolkata, India. It is supposed to be pretty secure with an active force of private security personals and a host of security regulations which we are made to follow, apparently for our own safety.

Given this overview, one fine day we received a call from the security gate that some masis (aunts) have come to visit us. We were wondering who that could be. To our shock and surprise, we were informed that a group of eunuchs were there and wanted to meet us to collect their paona or 'dues' from us for having a baby!

My dad, who took that call, flatly refused, said we don't entertain such demands and hung up. The phone rang again in a couple of minutes, the security guard pleaded with us to directly talk to them. We refused to talk again and asked him to handle the situation at the gate itself.

After about fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door and we saw two of the masis standing behind a security guard. He said that they couldnt be stopped as they wanted to check our house.

This happened well into the morning and hubby was already at work. So I told them that I didnt have any money and neither was I interested to give them any.

One masi spoke back saying no one refuses them and if we dared to, then we should get ready to face the consequences. They threatened that they would come in hoards and create nuisance, that they would steal my baby's clothes and perform black-magic on them, that they would poop in front of our door and gave details of other such colorful programs that they could carry out. 

I didn't know how to respond. Completely confused and dumbfounded. I don't know why but I agreed to pay them their 'dues' the following day. Once they left,  I realized I was so scared and angry that I was visibly shaking.

I called up the security head of our apartment and appraised him of the situation in detail. He said they were helpless in controlling these masis. Even the police would not help the public against these goons in the form of masi.

Between then and the next day, I heard many stories of their atrocities and how everyone eventually had to give in to their demands. How they extorted Rs. 50000 from a family to compensate for getting their son married. How they forced a family to give gold in addition to the money demanded. How one truck load of them came to scare a family in the apartment complex near us, when they refused to pay.

Our apartment security washed their hands off this case and told that they would not interfere, fearing loss of face and public humiliation - which, they said, they had to face once earlier when they tried to stop the masis.

We wondered, if they couldn't do anything in this situation and let the masis come and force themselves on us, what would they do if someone came armed with guns or something like that? If this was not a situation to defend us in an urban life scenario, what are they expecting to defend us from?

However, they had defenses enough to not let those goons come straight to our flat, instead they would arrange that the monetary negotiation be done over the intercom.

With a million thoughts running in our heads we went to bed that night, to get ready to face the most terrorizing day of our lives in Kolkata so far. 

...TO BE CONTINUED. HOPE YOU WILL BE BACK AGAIN NEXT WEEK TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. :)

The Indian Coffee House

This place, Coffee House, on a by-lane off the College Street, Kolkata, India, is a nostalgic burden on a Bengali's conscience. Immortalized by the song "Coffee house er shei adda ta aaj ar nei" (the get together at the Coffee house is no more) by the legendary Manna Dey.

Coffee House has been entertaining the cultural illuminati of  Bengal, starting from Satyajit Ray to Aparna Sen, Amartya Sen to Shakti Chattopadhyay to many others across generations.

All these thoughts were racing in my mind when on a sultry sunday evening my hubby dragged me to that place for a first look.

Thanks to the GPS, we were able to navigate through the puzzling city roads and reach our destination. Being a Sunday evening, the place was deserted. We were not even sure if Coffee House was open. The nearby shops were all shut. We parked under a dim street light and walked over to the entrance of the famous canteen to find it open.

The old shabby place is a couple of floors high. Next to the entrance on the ground floor is a huge grid of age old electric switches. A curved staircase leads to the first floor, where we see a sign for Indian Coffee House, the door to the right. There are posters and announcements on the surrounding walls advertising about various events like plays, music concerts or even protest marches happening in the neighborhood.

As we entered we were greeted by a gush of hot air, assorted aroma of various food items, an overwhelming stench of the almost visible cigarette smoke and a distinct murmur from all sides.
I realized that the place is massive in height, almost two and half floor above was the ceiling. Ceiling fans dangling from that height offered very little respite. There were just a couple of windows open to air the entire place and that explained the stuffiness.

Big and small groups of people were seating around, young friends or very old ones. We, not being a part of either end of the spectrum, felt a little out of place. We took a table at one end of the room, near one open window. With chicken and mutton "chaap" in hand we tried to take in the 'atmosphere' of the place clinging on to its past.

As for the taste of 'coffee' in the Coffee House, that's another story altogether.

Reporting to desk!

Shifting to Kolkata proved pretty fruitful  for us - we are now a family of three. This little person arrived in March, 2013 and since kept us busy beyond limits.

After a year now, he is slowly starting to play on his own, allowing me brief moments to key down my thoughts.

So here on, this blog will be active again, bringing experiences from different corners of this city to its readers.