ME, MYSELF & KOLKATA – I

Much has been said about the City of Joy since Mr. Lapierre epitomized this amalgamation of paradoxes in his writings. I am not going to talk about the inherent deficiencies pervading the fabric of the city. Neither am I going to talk about the political idiocy in the city/state. And I am definitely not going to talk about Mamta di and her fandom not to mention the 3 decade alliance between the communists and the state. This is strictly a post based on my experiences with the city herself.

It was 2006 and I just completed my 2 months stint in Bhubaneshwar. At the end I was given the option to choose my work location from a drop-down of 7 choices. I had to choose 3. My options were Chennai (For the Sambhar & Vada), Pune (My best friends) and Mumbai (Life in the fast lane – sort of) in order of preference. What did I get – Kolkata. Obviously there was no logic in the process, just a placater to make people like me appreciate the organization for giving free will ad instantly taking it away. All I said to myself was “Its your goddamn destiny buddy. Live with it.”.

The reason I was skeptical about Kolkata was a combination of ignorance and prejudice. Obviously it was behind her cousin Mumbai in progress, thanks to Communism, unionism and sheer laziness of the public and state machinery. Decay was the one word that came to my mind when I thought of Kolkata. But, little did I know that this city would give me an excellent career, a fantastic experience of culture and heritage, a hearty bunch of immigrants and locals who would later shape my life in umpteen ways. And not to forget the wonderful roshogolla and jhaal muri (I would’ve said maach but I’m not really a big fan of seafood so I can’t really comment on that.)

When I first arrived at Howrah Station following were the sequence of events that hit me like a gust of hot wind.

1) Hit by a wave of agoraphobia.

2) Haggling with the opportunistic taxi walas.

3) The taxi wala sensing I was new in town and most importantly not a Bengali or a Bihari.

4) Getting ripped off by the driver.

5) Confusion between the 5 star Hyatt Residency and the 1 star Aayash residency (Yes that’s the name. I swear.)

6) Struggling to understand Bengali from Steps 1 thru 5

I took me approximately 2 months to get acclimatized to the Bong culture. Slowly I started picking bits and pieces of Bangla as I had to know at least the basics to chat with my maid/cook. As days stretched into months, I slowly started relaxing and giving into the spirit of the Bengali brotherhood. That’s the secret of survival in this city. For a non-Bengali, this place will thrust its influence from all directions. You do not want to fight that. I know of many people who did that and eventually spent long and unhappy days.

You love it or hate it, Kolkata will always be Kolkata.

HOUSE-SPOUSE

It all started when my project got shelved (almost) in the last week of October 2011. I’ve been reading the omens for the last two years and I knew that this was where we were heading. But this post isn’t about my project but about my personal life. Within the next two months I got accepted to a B-school, got married to my longtime girlfriend and we toured Thailand on our Luna di Miel.

Then started my transition into the life of a house-husband or more politically appropriate house- spouse. Initially, I thought it was going to be weird. I mean, I was the kind of guy who’d worked a 60 hour work. Here I am, sitting at home and having all the time in the world. But I have now started enjoying it. Many of my friends said that I wouldn’t last a day but hey, here I am completely immersed into the house-spuse experience and loving every bit of it. Why do I love it?

1) It gives me enough time to pursue my interests  - Cooking & Reading. In fact, I’ve cooked more number of unique dishes in the last 30 days than in my entire adulthood and adolescence combined.  And I have ready more books in the last 30 days than the total no. of books combined in the last two years.

2) Its a welcome break from a 5 year slog fest that I went through to reach the position where I am today. Not only do I now have time to relax but also introspect and prioritize my life.

3) It gives me a fresh perspective on things. Things that are seemingly mundane are suddenly interesting. Things that I wouldn’t have given a damn suddenly become a source of inspiration. Think something like Steve Jobs and connecting the dots.

I am going to live this life for another 1584 hours after which I will be heading to one of the most busiest 52 weeks of my life. Until then, here I am enjoying my life to the fullest.

This transition was indeed a well deserved one to all of you out there wondering how the dark side looks and feels like, I have just one word to say – AWESOME!!

So, until I become the next big B-school snob, here’s to a celebration called Life and cheers to all the house-spouses.

Adios!

Writing – the perennial pain in my mind

Why is writing so difficult? Writing according to the new age definition includes blogging as well. I am a well versed reader. I know all the “important” events happening around the world, thanks to newspapers and online news sites. I am also aware of what many opinionated and some pseudo-opinionated minds feel about a host of topics “plaguing” our environment/society thanks to A&L daily, The New Yorker, The Economist & Caravan. But, when it comes to my trust with writing, I always fall apart. Is it because I am intimated by the amount of lucidity I could bring while typing down my thoughts in a virtual world? Or is it because I am too lazy to use my right brain to figure out a few sentences that will capture my stream of thought? Or maybe I set too high standards for myself which I fear that I might not replicate. Whatever the reason might be I am just a character away from expressing myself – every time.

Writing to me has always been personal. Before the whole blogging genre came into picture, I considered myself a personal writer i.e., I wrote to myself. This was something I used to do at least every alternate day. But, as time slid through the slit of life, I found myself increasingly conscious of myself. Altogether, I stopped writing using pen and paper. Then, in the late teens, when blogging was the “In thing”, I created my 1st blog and typed in my teen frustrations coupled with a desperate attempt to save myself from the farce that was life. I always wanted to become a rebel but I was never one. I always wanted to be the outrageous guy in the class who went by the motto, “My way or the highway” courtesy a lot of Telugu and Tamil movies. Alas, as I pointed out, I was not quick with my “right brain”. My logical self sprang me back to reality and took me thru the drone of IIT prep, engineering and subsequently working in an Indian MNC. I do confess that I had intermittent bouts of self realization and came back to blogging but it never lasted for more than a week.

Its 2012 and the beginning of another exciting and eventful year of my life. This might even be the busiest year of my life since 2001-2002. I have made a come back to the blogging community but it sure wasn’t with a bang. I still have so much to learn about writing, about expressing my life in words and simply the art of english. But, I do need a vent or rather an opportunity to share snippets of my life with myself (and maybe some bored folks who stumbled upon my blog by mistake). So here I am furiously typing away on my keyboard, the so called “musings of a pragmatic preacher”. Here’s to a new lease of life (read it as Google hits) for my blog.

Adios!