E-rummaging through old Calcutta bin

E-rummaging. Through old letters on an email acoount. Excerpts from an email sent after I had moved out of Kolkata, my home, for the first time, six years back.

hi,

bol ki khobor. r u in calcutta? man,i'm so jealous!!! anything that's slightly kolkata in colour and bangla in taste seems so good now. the name "calcutta" sounds like straight out of a black n white hollywood classic, where i travel on the red road on a cloudy sunday morning, in an old tram, sucking on orange lozenzes bought from a chirpy 10 year-old. i stand on the footboard for the last part of the journey, feeling the wind, as the tram makes it's way towards khiddirpore. i get down, buy a bhutta, and start walking along the tree-lined street named after a doctor. maybe he was an old man in a white coat and a white beard, with a hearty laugh, and treated poor people for free. maybe not. anyway, i walk past the old, dusty houses, some of which have space for gardens in the front, gardens which don't exist anymore. the houses stand splendid in dust and rust. i finally walk up three short steps and knock on the door of a similiar house, which is slightly ajar, and i enter. the man in the room sits talking to one of his students. he is a musician and has a few students. i take a seat at the back of the room. somebody asks him about bluegrass. he starts playing. the room is dimly lit and filled with music. i close my eyes and listen. he starts playing a different tune, playing chords and notes at the same time, something very jazzy. he suddenly stops laughs and says,"this is for the gin and lime mood...in a new york club." and i sit fascinated - what IS this music?

Here's a rum and coke to you.

Singh of the road...

Alibhai (a Punjabi from Pakistan), my private taxi-driver, has a new Toyota 4X4. He is very proud of it. The new possession ensures that he is in excellent spirits these days. As a result, he spoke non-stop from Abu Dhabi to Sharjah for three hours. The I-am-pretending-to-fall-asleep ploy failed completely to stop him.

In his fit of enthusiasm, he also made the following profound comments to a couple of my co-passengers -

1. to an irritable Indian lady with a broken leg - "Madamji, you should lose some weight to ensure that you dont break any more bones in the future"

2. to a middle aged Egytian lady who kept us waiting - "Madam, dont feel bad about keeping us waiting - ladies will take their time for putting on make-up and trying to look good"

Alibhai also explained to me patiently the benefits of a 4X4 - "you need to battle the sand dunes in this rocky country". And to demonstrate the capabilities of his vehicle, he climbed back and forth across pavements, paying little attention to sounds of protests from other drivers on the road.

An accent to "Pank" on...

I met a young Brit of Sudanese origin during one of my projects recently. He was there as a translator (Arabic to English) for representatives from our client's side - one French, one Egyptian (he didn't need translation), two Koreans and one American.

This young man did his job well, except for the fact that his 'P's were replaced by 'B's and vice-versa.

So when I called him to find out where he was, he told me, "I am barking".
Later during the interview he was translating (which was about banking), he kept referring to Banks as Panks.

The client didnt mind because he had a strong British accent.