Life is a fun thing. You never know what all you get to learn. And, just when life presents the opportunity to learn new things. Like...I never thought I'd become a travel desk person. Understand the nuances of flight booking. How, when, where, at what price, how many stop overs, what is the total flight duration. Everything has a say...in prolonging my self styled holiday. A few more hours of my stay with my parents. So I had to become an expert in this. In this too.
Being personal, and not being personal at the same time. I once commented about a HR colleague, that I can do her work better than her, besides doing my own work, but she can't do her own work...let alone even try to do my work. True that God didn't care to give me anything much, be He's given me loads of intelligence. That, added to sensitivity and an uncanny sixth sense can often do wonders. I am not skilled. I don't know an ounce of banking, honestly speaking. I am dull, I couldn't even clear few banking interviews - got stuck up at complex interest related questions. (And probably I demanded too much salary). But then, I have been acting successfully as a banking consultant for a year and a half now. My management and client management both consider me as a trump card. I don't know anything. But I understand fast, I learn faster. And I present well. But wait, why is this turning out to be a self boosting (read boasting) session? Because, tomorrow I am going to commit another so called blasphemy (considering I worship my work - and the money that comes out of it - I guess this is quite an apt word). I am going to tell them...in case you don't find a suitable 1 stop ticket from my place, then defer the project. Somehow...all these days I have been pining to travel. Now when it is time, I somehow don't feel like leaving this cocoon. the simple acts of serving ice cream to granny, disturbing mom during her cooking and writing gibberish poetry in dad's diary...hey come on...priceless is not a word bought by mastercard, right? I can use it personally also...
Having read entire collection of Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, Feluda and Byomkesh also helps a lot. I know what they will say. Come back to Bangalore. For I being the intelligent me, already checked that there is no dearth of tickets from Bangalore. At times I do realize socio economic facts too. Kolkata is a metro in the proper sense of the term. Bangalore is not. Kolkata caters to the entire north east and all kinds of industries. Bangalore caters only to IT. Nobody takes these statistics, but they are present all the same.
Today, I was craving for moghlai paratha. One of my very favorite food, which is very rarely available in Bangalore. So I went out with dad, and was sitting on a chair kept near a road side stall, as the young boy prepared my delicious food. I observe small, subtle things. I asked him, with a lot of doubt, is moghlai paratha available? (two other established brand shops had already denied). Yes, he said, egg, chicken, what? In the same doubtful voice I asked...which one would be better? He thinks and answers, didi, should I make a special one for you? (it was not said in a funny tone, it was said with a lot of care). I said, special...how much would it cost? He borrows my doubtful tone now...50 Rs it'd be...I break into a smile and say, please prepare one.
50 Rs...hardly has value for me. For him, it is probably his entire day's earning. What he will earn with a lifetime of effort, I have earned probably in my first year of service. Still, he can stay in my city, probably with his parents. I cannot. I act like a musafir, come and go. Unaccustomed earth, trying to find root, again getting uprooted. I love this city. Dad bought this mourola fish (small tiny fishes which u can cook in three ways, hot & spicy, fry and sour gravy). Now there was this young boy (as in my age only) who was there. He said, I will prepare the fish (cut and clean), it will taste awesome. As he was working on the fish, his father came up. They were a bit concerned, there was an hour to go before their last train, and there was a lot to be sold still. He asked my dad what time it is and consoled his dad...there is still time enough to sell everything, don't worry. Dad started bargaining with his dad, meaningless bargain...which both sides knew was only for time pass. Then dad suddenly remembered and asked me, do we take green mango, your mom can make the sour gravy then. No dad, I emphatically said...I don't like the sour gravy, I like only the fry. 5 minutes later, the fishmonger guy is done with his work, hands over the fish, takes the money and says, huh, I can finish my entire rice with the sour gravy (mourola-r tak diye to aamar puro bhaat uthe jaye). I was laughing so much while coming back. Here breaks the barrier between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, that too in such a sweetly taunting way. This is my Bengal, this is my heart's dearest Kolkata.
They are celebrating 20 years of Suman's Tomaake Chai. To me, it is 20 years of learning for the first time, aah, this is my kind of music :) :)
Being personal, and not being personal at the same time. I once commented about a HR colleague, that I can do her work better than her, besides doing my own work, but she can't do her own work...let alone even try to do my work. True that God didn't care to give me anything much, be He's given me loads of intelligence. That, added to sensitivity and an uncanny sixth sense can often do wonders. I am not skilled. I don't know an ounce of banking, honestly speaking. I am dull, I couldn't even clear few banking interviews - got stuck up at complex interest related questions. (And probably I demanded too much salary). But then, I have been acting successfully as a banking consultant for a year and a half now. My management and client management both consider me as a trump card. I don't know anything. But I understand fast, I learn faster. And I present well. But wait, why is this turning out to be a self boosting (read boasting) session? Because, tomorrow I am going to commit another so called blasphemy (considering I worship my work - and the money that comes out of it - I guess this is quite an apt word). I am going to tell them...in case you don't find a suitable 1 stop ticket from my place, then defer the project. Somehow...all these days I have been pining to travel. Now when it is time, I somehow don't feel like leaving this cocoon. the simple acts of serving ice cream to granny, disturbing mom during her cooking and writing gibberish poetry in dad's diary...hey come on...priceless is not a word bought by mastercard, right? I can use it personally also...
Having read entire collection of Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, Feluda and Byomkesh also helps a lot. I know what they will say. Come back to Bangalore. For I being the intelligent me, already checked that there is no dearth of tickets from Bangalore. At times I do realize socio economic facts too. Kolkata is a metro in the proper sense of the term. Bangalore is not. Kolkata caters to the entire north east and all kinds of industries. Bangalore caters only to IT. Nobody takes these statistics, but they are present all the same.
Today, I was craving for moghlai paratha. One of my very favorite food, which is very rarely available in Bangalore. So I went out with dad, and was sitting on a chair kept near a road side stall, as the young boy prepared my delicious food. I observe small, subtle things. I asked him, with a lot of doubt, is moghlai paratha available? (two other established brand shops had already denied). Yes, he said, egg, chicken, what? In the same doubtful voice I asked...which one would be better? He thinks and answers, didi, should I make a special one for you? (it was not said in a funny tone, it was said with a lot of care). I said, special...how much would it cost? He borrows my doubtful tone now...50 Rs it'd be...I break into a smile and say, please prepare one.
50 Rs...hardly has value for me. For him, it is probably his entire day's earning. What he will earn with a lifetime of effort, I have earned probably in my first year of service. Still, he can stay in my city, probably with his parents. I cannot. I act like a musafir, come and go. Unaccustomed earth, trying to find root, again getting uprooted. I love this city. Dad bought this mourola fish (small tiny fishes which u can cook in three ways, hot & spicy, fry and sour gravy). Now there was this young boy (as in my age only) who was there. He said, I will prepare the fish (cut and clean), it will taste awesome. As he was working on the fish, his father came up. They were a bit concerned, there was an hour to go before their last train, and there was a lot to be sold still. He asked my dad what time it is and consoled his dad...there is still time enough to sell everything, don't worry. Dad started bargaining with his dad, meaningless bargain...which both sides knew was only for time pass. Then dad suddenly remembered and asked me, do we take green mango, your mom can make the sour gravy then. No dad, I emphatically said...I don't like the sour gravy, I like only the fry. 5 minutes later, the fishmonger guy is done with his work, hands over the fish, takes the money and says, huh, I can finish my entire rice with the sour gravy (mourola-r tak diye to aamar puro bhaat uthe jaye). I was laughing so much while coming back. Here breaks the barrier between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, that too in such a sweetly taunting way. This is my Bengal, this is my heart's dearest Kolkata.
They are celebrating 20 years of Suman's Tomaake Chai. To me, it is 20 years of learning for the first time, aah, this is my kind of music :) :)
