FC 192 on ‘The City Of Joy’ elicited a good response. The views and comments sent in by many readers displayed their past association with that city. Some were detailed and some elaborate. For want of space, I have taken the liberty of abridging them, but even then they collectively deserve to be titled:
‘City Of Joy 2.0’
Dr Shailaja: “Your post took me down memory lane! When my father was posted in Calcutta in the late eighties, I found myself in an all-girls school in Calcutta. For one rupee, I enjoyed riding the underground metro from Maidan station to New Market station and then taking a short walk to school. The crowded local buses always had room for me while I explored the city as a teen, paying sometimes just 30 paise for a ticket. Sandesh and Matka doi were available in the corner stores, and we would occasionally visit Chinatown with relatives for leather and Chinese food. Oh! Calcutta, what a charming city!”
Lakshmi Raman: “Calcutta to this day is one of my favourite cities. In May 2016, I spent a month in a small hotel on the lower end of Park Street, travelling only during the day when I had to visit an NGO for a project evaluation. The city practically shut down from 11 am - 4 pm. Early mornings, I would walk to a street corner for a street-vendor chai. I spent the cooler evenings buying shingadas, mishti doi or shankh (a mild milk-jaggery sweet) which I grew to love. Cabbies would curse the government, and talk politics, philosophy and history with equal passion. The people from all walks of life were open in their welcome and courtesy. They loved that I loved and sang Bengali songs. This is one of my evergreen memories of Calcutta.”
Amar: “I frequently visited Kolkata during my stint in the ITC group for over 9 years. I loved the
City and enjoyed different modes of transport. I once took a trip from Tolly to Howrah and back through the metro, tram, auto and taxi. There are many, many anecdotes, but I will share two. Once I did not get my salary on time and the helpless guy at HO said ‘Amar, everyone in Grindlays is at the football match, what can I do?’. The other time, when I got my first job in AF Ferguson & Co. the leading CA firm in those days, I proudly told someone about it — he said ‘Great, they make good tractors’ — he thought I worked for Massey Fergusson.”
Tapas Bhattasaly: “Truly it is a city filled with joy. It’s not just about rickshaw drivers or slums, but the best part of the city is that it is truly cosmopolitan. People across India and globally have settled in this city for long. Culturally, it’s so rich and diverse that anyone who comes to this city feels at home.”
Raman Sista: He has written an e-book ‘42-year Tryst With Kolkata’ replete with anecdotes. I loved it and I recommend you read it using this link: 🔗FILTER COFFEE .docx
Murali Varadarajan: “I had the opportunity to visit Kolkata, the ‘City of Joy’, with my parents and brother in 1991. We experienced India's first underground metro line. As we eagerly stepped aboard, the excitement was palpable. The futuristic train whisked us through the labyrinthine network, giving us a whole new perspective of the city beneath the surface. With its vibrant culture, bustling markets, and colonial architectural wonders, Kolkata left a lasting impression. But what truly made our visit to Kolkata memorable was the people. We encountered warm and welcoming locals who exuded a sense of joy and contentment despite life's many challenges. It was this pervasive spirit of happiness and resilience that lent Kolkata its well-deserved title, the ‘City of Joy’.”
M Shankar: “The tram used to have just 2 bogies (cars), the 1st class at the front and the 2nd class tagging behind. The 1st class had cushion seats and fans, while the 2nd class had wooden seats with no fans. We always used to travel by 2nd class. My sister and I used to pester our father for the 1st class, but he used to reply: ‘No means No. I can't afford the 1st class fare’ (which in those days was 13 paisa vis-à-vis 10 paisa for the 2nd class). That incident taught us the value of money, not then but many, many years later.”
🪜Story per Storey
Five guys were living in a shared accommodation on the 5th floor of a building in Kolkata which had just one lift. These guys came down the lift to grab something to bite and on return, they found there was load shedding and no assurance when power may be restored. They strike a deal. Each one should narrate an anecdote or a short story for each floor, such that the fifth man would have narrated his when they reached the 5th floor. [The guys are numbered G1 to G5 for ease of reference.]
G1 begins: “A story has to have a beginning and an end. I can tell a story but would not know how to end it. So, I will say there was a king who had a daughter to be married off. He organises a contest. A guy claiming to be a prince comes along and enquires what might be the contest. He is told that he has to fight a tiger bare-handed to get the hand of the princess. He laughs and says, ‘I could do that easily, but not for getting hitched to a tigress’. Ha Ha Ha!” There is a collective moan from G2 to G5. They have reached the first floor.
G2 begins: “I am not good at making up stories, but I can recite a limerick. Since my friend spoke of a contest with the tiger, my limerick will be about Brian, a circus performer whose main act was riding a lion. One day he went on a ride into the woods. The rest of the story is in the limerick:
A circus performer named Brian
Smiled as he rode the lion
They came from the ride
But with Brian inside
And a smile on the face of the lion.”
The guys were panting with their stomachs full as they reached the second floor but managed a few chuckles.
Huffing, G3 begins: “Since we have nothing to do except tell each other something, I will tell you a story about ‘nothing’. A crow was sitting high on a tree doing nothing much all day. A rabbit came along and said can I also sit and do nothing? The crow said, ‘Sure’. So the rabbit sat under the tree and soon dozed off. A fox grabbed the rabbit and ate it off. The moral of the story is, ‘to be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.’”
They are now on the third floor. Pausing to catch his breath, G4 says: “G3 cheated by converting a management joke into a crow and frog story. Here’s my story, which tops all the so-called stories told so far:
A few friends like us were returning home at midnight after seeing the movie ‘Ghost’. The movie was about a young man who is murdered, but his spirit stays behind. Some of the friends who believed in ghosts were providing hearsay narratives of ghosts and haunted houses. One of them was born sceptic and did not believe that ghosts existed and thought people saw apparitions out of their fear-induced imagination. His friends challenged him to go to the cemetery at night on a new moon day and hammer a nail on one of the graves. The guy agrees and the next day they choose the grave of a person whose house was believed to be haunted by his spirit. At midnight, the friends wait outside and the sceptic goes with a hammer and nail. He pounds the nail into the grave and gets up, but falls as if someone pulled him down. He faints and when he doesn’t show up for a while, the friends walk up to the grave and find that the sceptic had driven the nail through the flap of his overcoat.”
There’s a collective gasp, and G4 is thrilled at their reaction to his story. They are now on the fourth floor. Just one more flight of stairs to go. It is the turn of G5, the last guy, to tell the story. He starts: “You have heard a parody, a comedy, a horror story, so my story will be a tragedy. A few friends, like us, after a hearty meal, came to the apartment complex to be told that the lift had broken down, and regretfully they had to take the stairs. To make the task easy, they decided to distract themselves with anecdotes as they trudged up the stairs, feeling hot and humid. When they reached their apartment floor, the guy who drove them to the hotel parked the car and locked it but left the key to the apartment. Just as we left the key to our apartment in the car.”
Dear Readers, the reaction of the friends as they arrive at the 5th floor is left to your imagination. Pardon me if you find this post a bit longer than usual. Please take good care of yourself. Unfortunately, Bangalore is not exactly a city of joy right now, given the water scarcity and rising mercury. Hopefully, the Gods will soon smile and bless us with much-anticipated showers. Take care, save water and until next week, Ciao.
... And the saga continued. The poor guys came back to the car to get the keys and couldn't find it. The keys were eventually found in the inside pocket of the jacket he was wearing.
So the storey was really telling.....