In da club
Got to get into the groove of writing a blog. Sure, work expands to fill the time available. But what the heck! My resolution: Keep writing for atleast ten minutes every time I find time oozing out of my watch. A Dalinian vision of molten watches. Well, all of us do hallucinate at work at some point of time. Blogging is nothing but persistence of memory.
Yesterday’s plan of meeting up with RH and RT ( college friends, both of them) at Some Place Else got cancelled and we eventually settled for the Calcutta Club. A full bottle of Kingfisher beer and a plate of golden fried prawn flew off the table in no time. The service stank. The bearers were missing in action, ignoring our frantic gestures to the point of utter disdain.
RT is a high-flying yuppie consultant. He “flies”( sic). RT regaled us with his stories about trans-atlantic flights-which has now become his fortnightly chore and how he hates it all. Also his story about how he recently went to Chicago on a project, met a Korean co-worker, and was offered a new job by him to head a different company’s soon-to-be-started Indian operations. “But you have changed your last job just about four months back”, I asked him. “I know, and they will kill me if they find out about my plans”, he laughed. “But why”? I probed. “ I can set up my office anywhere in India, and I am seriously thinking about shifting to Calcutta”, he said. “The only catch is, my wife doesn’t want to shift out of Delhi”. The conversation soon veered down to the recently acquired status of Calcutta as a “happening city”. RH, who was keeping quiet all this while, also jumped into the fray. Somewhere an emotional chord was struck. Decibel levels were raised. Thursday evening suddenly came alive for few minutes. Perhaps the only topic (besides The Forgotten Hero and The Forgotten Indian cricket captain) which unites and animates all Bongs- sad, old or otherwise. After many a raving and discourse later, we decided to call it a day. It was a long and lonely drive back home.
Why do I write “Calcutta” and not “Kolkata”. A hangover from the Raj days. I don’t want to consume a tablet of Party Smart to get over it. Call it a reverse sub-altern viewpoint.
Have a diner invitation at an office colleague’s place tomorrow night.
Yesterday’s plan of meeting up with RH and RT ( college friends, both of them) at Some Place Else got cancelled and we eventually settled for the Calcutta Club. A full bottle of Kingfisher beer and a plate of golden fried prawn flew off the table in no time. The service stank. The bearers were missing in action, ignoring our frantic gestures to the point of utter disdain.
RT is a high-flying yuppie consultant. He “flies”( sic). RT regaled us with his stories about trans-atlantic flights-which has now become his fortnightly chore and how he hates it all. Also his story about how he recently went to Chicago on a project, met a Korean co-worker, and was offered a new job by him to head a different company’s soon-to-be-started Indian operations. “But you have changed your last job just about four months back”, I asked him. “I know, and they will kill me if they find out about my plans”, he laughed. “But why”? I probed. “ I can set up my office anywhere in India, and I am seriously thinking about shifting to Calcutta”, he said. “The only catch is, my wife doesn’t want to shift out of Delhi”. The conversation soon veered down to the recently acquired status of Calcutta as a “happening city”. RH, who was keeping quiet all this while, also jumped into the fray. Somewhere an emotional chord was struck. Decibel levels were raised. Thursday evening suddenly came alive for few minutes. Perhaps the only topic (besides The Forgotten Hero and The Forgotten Indian cricket captain) which unites and animates all Bongs- sad, old or otherwise. After many a raving and discourse later, we decided to call it a day. It was a long and lonely drive back home.
Why do I write “Calcutta” and not “Kolkata”. A hangover from the Raj days. I don’t want to consume a tablet of Party Smart to get over it. Call it a reverse sub-altern viewpoint.
Have a diner invitation at an office colleague’s place tomorrow night.
posted by Laughing Buddha at 5:14 AM
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