...simply be his friend.: "Calcutta Ahoy!" goes the Chaddi brigade..

"Today, was a day to remember.

Rather, it was a day that shall go down in history, as one where 3 young lads went on to break free of those invisible..."

Well, that was about all I could get to the first time I got down to writing this post, back on the 4th of October. Well, its been nearly a month hence, and it is now, this beautiful Sunday night, that I return to this perch. And in xyz minutes, I hope to have vanquished/made love to that muse which has been teasing me ever since that magical day... all those days back.

Continuing...

The Beginnings

On one of our several DP trips around Behala and beyond, we had chanced on a sweet shop which advertised its 'chhole bhature'. Any Delhiite would tell you just how compelling the very thought of that delicacy can be, particularly when in a far-away land.

Now it was a bright Sunday afternoon, and the last holiday of the DP break here at Joka. People were returning to a place that had(/will) become home to them (sooner or later). I had of course spent the entire break on campus itself, soaking in the authentic DP fervour, along with a renewed passion and reverence towards velliaps. In the able accompaniment of my trusted sidey, Monsieur Pparas, that one week had been, quite simply put, rather memorable.

(Details on all the magic of the DP week, would quite naturally merit a separate post, on a separate date. Too much respects issues are there.)

Anyhow..

So it was that last Sunday, and one felt like rounding off the magic of the DP break, with a memorable last day. Pparas came up with the splendid idea of pursuing our elusive chhole bhature dreams. Stumbling across an ambling Lal, we picked him up as well. Part laziness part convenience however reminded us of the fact that Sunday afternoons were Chicken biriyani in the good old mess. Thus we hopped down to the mess, in our blithe tees and shorts, as we always do.

Much to our disappointment though, the dreamy visuals of steaming biriyani were rather rudely replaced by a most basic lunchtime offering. Such a compromise most definitely unacceptable, we reverted to our Behala chhole bhature plan, and the next thing we knew, we were standing outside that enticing little sweet shop. Looking up at the skies, and the many elements that moved in wonderful randomness all around us, we knew that the Sunday was going to live up to its billing... Just that we didn't quite realize the story would continue way beyond our Delhiminiscent culinary temptations!

An innocent detour...

Well, as it turned out, the advertised product at said sweet shop was, simply put, unavailable. Unavailable then, as it has been and will be. The point behind putting up that ad seemed to have escaped us, pending of course sinister plots of cross-selling to customers initially enticed by said ad. (Hmmm... Thats basically what we ended up doing there. ANYways...)

Thus, in order to rescue our crises ridden Sunday treat, we proceeded towards the safest resort for any non-veg lover in the Kolkata south of Alipore - Haji Saheb. (Of course, the customary trip to the namesake of 'Asynchronous Transfer Mode' in order for Pparas to extricate a suitable sum of money did occur in this period.)

There, after cribbing about the annoying Kolkatan neglect towards the exquisiteness that is a freshly prepared 'raita', we eventually seated ourselves at a table.

For the record, we enacted our first public 'scene' together, when the waiter asked us to occupy one side of a 6-seater table. Non-cooperation, arguments and agitation was followed by eventual submission to his requests. Barring this minor blemish however, the lunch indeed did live up to its name. Haji Saheb - Respects!

...Gone awry (and how beautifully so!)

Just as we made our way out of that journey of culinary poetry, a long lost desire resurrected from within the eased neurons (Tandoori chicken induced 'ecstasy' perhaps!) of Pparas - the hallowed portals of Coffee House.

For the uninitiated, Coffee House is an ancient place located at the heart of College Street, facing the legendary Presidency College, and the undoubted socio-culturo-intellectual hub of the city (the latter at least in its hay day.) Having fed him with pics and tales of the immaculate 'feel' that emanates from the very fibre of the place, one knew Pparas was not speaking in jest. More importantly, one suddenly saw the infinite potential of this till now lazy Sunday afternoon unfolding.

And thus, overcoming a momentary hesitation in Lal, and clad still in the pride of our existence - our tees and shorts - we boarded a bus to Dharamtalla. There, waiting for the one bus (of allegedly 38) to take us to College Street, the elements seemed hell bent on stretching the Law of Averages to its limits. Thus, after a 10 minute wait that seemed like an eternity and a half, we finally boarded one to take us to the place.

And surely enough, in the span of the next 14 minutes, we were there, at the welcoming arms of "Indian Coffee House". In spite of the fact that I had frequented it only 2 days earlier, it still seemed to breathe with a sense of freshness, which I hope and conjecture, shall remain for all of its days. Something in the air makes one even overlook the cigarette smoke that permeates all around - a shot of culture and the likes perhaps.

Once we were done ogling at all the wonder that lay embedded in the air, the walls and the sounds, and with the coffee and sandwiches of course, we recalled something that had caught our eye en route to this place. And the very thought sent one's 'thass barometer' race to precarious levels!

The final nail in sanity's coffin!

The sight that had returned to our collective consciousness all at once, was the one we caught whilst walking past the relatively underrated "Metro Cinema". "Wake up Sid" had just been released, and the queue had seemed rather empty at the time.

And in case you haven't guessed already, wake up! It was decided in a moment of spontaneous unanimity (after a momentary hesitation in Pparas), to put his magical money extracting card to use once more, and there stood 3 members of the brightest of India's elite education illuminati, warding off the advances of black marketeers and queue breakers.

Sigh.. Such levelers life throws at one! Just beautiful...

Returning..

Thereafter, in a matter of 23 minutes, we had found our way inside the hall, and were rather surprised to find a bar inside. Since then I have learnt from sources that there are indeed many such cinematic oases in this ever enchanting city of Kolkata. Either way, at the very least, at that moment in time, we were just floored; and out of sheer respect, we went on to have a customary Vodka each. Pretty soon it was time for the movie to begin.

The whole "Wake up Sid!" experience was like trying to appreciate music in a fish market; as is to be expected in any such theatre experience, the people hardly settled in during the first quarter of the movie. Irrespective of any such infractions however, one knew one was living another plane of thass, and for that matter, life.

Key highlights from the movie, to conclude this episode:

"Justin ke haath bahut saara paisa de do, Sid ban jaayega!"

"Haan.. Badi achchi saaf-safai karta hai Sid!"

"Sid... Mein tumhaare bachche ki maa banne wali hoon.."

Sheesh... and there were just SOO many more!

(Pparas and Lal - plz to contribute for this potential minefield of awesomeness!)

In the end

As with most occasions of such lightness of being, this particular outing too found its conclusion at a place of culinary worship - K.F.C!

Entering the pseude interiors of the place, still in our glorious exteriors, was just a WONderful feeling; one characterized my several shades of freedom, truth and headiness.

And it was there, seated and gorging on the goods, that we saw ourselves as the essential bhediye that we were. Sigh..

The heart sprang with a joy unburdening,

In that moment, there was no burgeoning.

One could see the light that had built this day,

And in that all the wonders, one could say.

Post the fulfilling meal, we trudged along to the nearest bus stop, boarded one for back home, and in the span of 39 minutes, were back to where it had all begun.

The day that had just passed us by, one knew was special beyond what words can describe. And the fact that one hadn't brought one's trusty old camera for this adventure, was poignantly testimonial of the random spontaneity that had punctuated the course of the entire day. And it was fitting in a way perhaps, for as was once said many years back, the most beautiful of moments are there to be lived, not captured.

"Get back to where you once belonged!"

Cheers duniya! :)