Tomorrow is Viwsakarma Puja - the day when pujas are performed for the divine engineer On this day, workers in factories and workshops, offer the tools and the instruments of their trades to the deity. More details here.
Sitting here indoors, in Gurgaon, I don't feel it. Kolkata however would be a different scene altogether. Buses, taxis, cars would be strung with flowers. Most factories would observe a holiday, but the workers wouldn't be at home. They would have a puja in the factory followed by a grand meal! This is very big with the drivers too. Also, the skies would be FULL of kites.
At home in Kolkata, the drivers would come around and collect "Chanda", money for the puja. And then there would be the feast. There was one Viswakarma puja we were invited to just after we had just moved in to our recently constructed appartments. The ground floor was still not complete and was full of gunny bags, cement and what not. The contractor and architect of the building had invited all the flat owners. We went for the post puja meal.
I was very hungry and ate the first few courses (all vegetarian) with great gusto and waited for the chutney-mishti which - the normal last course of every meal only to find, that they were serving mutton curry! I was aghast (not at the sacrilege of serving meat in a religious cermony) but at the fact that I was rather full and the mutton curry looked delicious. It was just the contractor bosses way of saying thank you to the workers. This is apparently the norm every where in Kolkata. And this cuts accross religions as well. Another owner of a taxi service told us that all his drivers - irrespective of religion, participated in their Viswakarma puja enthusiastically.
Since then, I have never had the chance to participate in one, but if I do, I will go slow on the first vegetarian courses!!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Train, the Taj and the Glacier
Good news for Indians, Indophiles, travelers, tourists, adventure sports lovers, trekkers and well why not everyone?
The historic Shimla Kalka Railway
Also known as the Shimla Toy train, it is being examined by a team of experts who will submit their report to UNESCO. The final decision to declare it as a World Heritage Property will be taken up at the next UNESCO general assembly in Quebec in July 2008.
This 104 year old railway covers 96 kms over marvelous rugged terrains and going through 103 tunnels, 969 bridges and has 919 curves of 68 kms! Inclusion in the World heritage site would do wonders for its preservation and conservation for posterity.
This narrow gauge railway was conceived of in 1847, plans for it drawn up in 1887 and work started in 1898 and finished in 1903. However, it was inaugurated only in 1906 and since then has been wowing millions of people (other than providing a convenient means of transport over what would otherwise be rugged mountain terrain).
A sad tale is associated with the construction of this railway, in particular with the Barog station named after the engineer in charge of its construction. He committed suicide after realizing that the two ends of the tunnels didn’t meet. Had it been perfectly aligned, it would have been the longest railway tunnel in the word. His grave lies just 1 km off the station.
If the Shimla toy train makes it to the list, it will join its counterparts - the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway and the Nilgiri Mountain Railway in South India.
My shameful note: I haven’t been on any of them, but will do, soon.
Age old beauty treatment for the Taj
Women have been using face packs of Multani Mitti (also known as Fuller’s Earth) for centuries. Its astringent qualities for cleaning marble have also been documented in the 16th century. ASI has already tried it out on the Taj once before and happy with the results, will be soon giving it a much needed facial. So, hurrah, we get to see Taj in its pristine, marbled glory, soon.
My happy note: Having been to the Taj thrice already, I am really looking forward to seeing it all cleaned up, and this time by moon light!
Exciting times for adventure sports enthusiast: The Siachen Glacier-Saltoro Ridge
A news paper report says that “India is now actively encouraging mountaineering and trekking expeditions to the forbidding glacial heights”. A 16 member Indo-french team has already led an expedition to Mamostong Kangri Peak, 30 kms east of the snout of the Siachen Glacier between July 30 - September 1. A 33 member Army expedition is currently under way. Another expedition of both army and civilians to Rimo Peak overlooking the Aksai Chin has begun on September 6, 2007. So, go conquer!
My happy to be far away and read about other’s exploit note: Go there, do that and I will buy the T-shirt!
The historic Shimla Kalka Railway
Also known as the Shimla Toy train, it is being examined by a team of experts who will submit their report to UNESCO. The final decision to declare it as a World Heritage Property will be taken up at the next UNESCO general assembly in Quebec in July 2008.
This 104 year old railway covers 96 kms over marvelous rugged terrains and going through 103 tunnels, 969 bridges and has 919 curves of 68 kms! Inclusion in the World heritage site would do wonders for its preservation and conservation for posterity.
This narrow gauge railway was conceived of in 1847, plans for it drawn up in 1887 and work started in 1898 and finished in 1903. However, it was inaugurated only in 1906 and since then has been wowing millions of people (other than providing a convenient means of transport over what would otherwise be rugged mountain terrain).
A sad tale is associated with the construction of this railway, in particular with the Barog station named after the engineer in charge of its construction. He committed suicide after realizing that the two ends of the tunnels didn’t meet. Had it been perfectly aligned, it would have been the longest railway tunnel in the word. His grave lies just 1 km off the station.
If the Shimla toy train makes it to the list, it will join its counterparts - the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway and the Nilgiri Mountain Railway in South India.
My shameful note: I haven’t been on any of them, but will do, soon.
Age old beauty treatment for the Taj
Women have been using face packs of Multani Mitti (also known as Fuller’s Earth) for centuries. Its astringent qualities for cleaning marble have also been documented in the 16th century. ASI has already tried it out on the Taj once before and happy with the results, will be soon giving it a much needed facial. So, hurrah, we get to see Taj in its pristine, marbled glory, soon.
My happy note: Having been to the Taj thrice already, I am really looking forward to seeing it all cleaned up, and this time by moon light!
Exciting times for adventure sports enthusiast: The Siachen Glacier-Saltoro Ridge
A news paper report says that “India is now actively encouraging mountaineering and trekking expeditions to the forbidding glacial heights”. A 16 member Indo-french team has already led an expedition to Mamostong Kangri Peak, 30 kms east of the snout of the Siachen Glacier between July 30 - September 1. A 33 member Army expedition is currently under way. Another expedition of both army and civilians to Rimo Peak overlooking the Aksai Chin has begun on September 6, 2007. So, go conquer!
My happy to be far away and read about other’s exploit note: Go there, do that and I will buy the T-shirt!
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Procrastinater, no longer (hopefully)
Am I procrastinator? I never seriously thought so. OK, I would like to tackle the easier, simpler and non confrontational tasks before the more complex ones. And occasionally, I’d like to shove the really unpleasant task under the ever present pile of papers on my messy desk. But this time, I really outdid myself. Could it be then, that I am a confirmed and beyond hope procrastinator?
I shifted residence (3rd time in as many years) in May end this year. This was peak work season. I managed two days off from work for the shift. We moved in to this really large apartment but without any woodwork what so ever. Just large bare rooms. Worst affected was my kitchen. There was just a long counter – a slab of black granite. And so all my kitchen ware, spices, grains, cereals etc were piled just any how on to the counter and left for a weekend when I could sort them. June, July and then August came and went. We settled in properly, the logistics, the maids, the shops, the electricity, telephones etc…except the kitchen.
The mess was incredible. In fact, the very sight of it was enough to have me shuddering and making a dash away from it. The few times I had to cook (maid was absent or the dish I wanted was beyond her) I spent an inordinate amount of time looking for the ingredients. I went out and bought stuff only to discover more of it lurking on the messy counter top. And occasionally, I’d have to get rid of something putrid from among the stuff which had been lying there neglected for quite some time.
And the guilt – oh god!
Since my maids were not going to lift a finger to remove the mess and neither would A, it would HAVE to be me. OK. So what if I tackled it bit by tiny bit. Perhaps all the large containers on day 1. All the smaller ones on day 2, all the Indian spices on Day 3, etc. Workable? Yes. And I’d feel a little less guilty with each passing day. So, I began on Sunday and finished on Wednesday. Wow! I felt like I had just scaled the Everest.
The kitchen is looking NEAT, everything in place and easily available and to my Surprise, did I actually buy so much and of nearly everything? I am after all the Timid Cook and the most adventurous that I have ever been was when, nearly four years ago, I tried to make Ras Malai (my first and last time …. And no it didn’t turn out bad… it was good…but the effort was too tiring).
The guilt which had rapidly evaporated on seeing my organized kitchen is back full force. I have spent so much on stocking up and yet in the last three years, have used less than 25% of what I have in my kitchen. Wasteful, zero planning / organising skills and WORSE - procrastinator.
This is what I found:
I have seven types of lentils – moong green and yellow, masur, chana, arhar, two types of rajma, lobia (am not sure if the last two are lentils)
3 types of breakfast cereals,
2 types of rice
4 types of cooking oil – mustard, vegetable, and two bottles of olive oil
11 type of sauces including teriyaki and black bean
10 Indian spices – cumin, coriander, poppy seed, ajwain, saunf, kalonji, black and yellow mustard, black and white sesame seed, radhuni, cardamom, cinnamon, mace, black pepper, red dried chilies, chili flakes, cloves green and black, thyme, oregano, basil and one mixed herb
Fried garlic and onions
Sooji, soya bean, dalia….
I am going to take a photo of my now tidy kitchen (should have taken one of the messy one too...but its too late now) to remind myself of the perils of procrastination.
PS - Now that I think about it, my desk at work was always messy. And ocassionally when things got really out of hand, once in 6 months or so, I would take couple of hours of tidying it up. And it would be such an event. People would gather to see. The housekeeping would provide me with a large garbage bin to dispose the useless papers and other stuff. A colleague V, would always click pictures on her cell of the before and after and send me the jpgs.
I shifted residence (3rd time in as many years) in May end this year. This was peak work season. I managed two days off from work for the shift. We moved in to this really large apartment but without any woodwork what so ever. Just large bare rooms. Worst affected was my kitchen. There was just a long counter – a slab of black granite. And so all my kitchen ware, spices, grains, cereals etc were piled just any how on to the counter and left for a weekend when I could sort them. June, July and then August came and went. We settled in properly, the logistics, the maids, the shops, the electricity, telephones etc…except the kitchen.
The mess was incredible. In fact, the very sight of it was enough to have me shuddering and making a dash away from it. The few times I had to cook (maid was absent or the dish I wanted was beyond her) I spent an inordinate amount of time looking for the ingredients. I went out and bought stuff only to discover more of it lurking on the messy counter top. And occasionally, I’d have to get rid of something putrid from among the stuff which had been lying there neglected for quite some time.
And the guilt – oh god!
Since my maids were not going to lift a finger to remove the mess and neither would A, it would HAVE to be me. OK. So what if I tackled it bit by tiny bit. Perhaps all the large containers on day 1. All the smaller ones on day 2, all the Indian spices on Day 3, etc. Workable? Yes. And I’d feel a little less guilty with each passing day. So, I began on Sunday and finished on Wednesday. Wow! I felt like I had just scaled the Everest.
The kitchen is looking NEAT, everything in place and easily available and to my Surprise, did I actually buy so much and of nearly everything? I am after all the Timid Cook and the most adventurous that I have ever been was when, nearly four years ago, I tried to make Ras Malai (my first and last time …. And no it didn’t turn out bad… it was good…but the effort was too tiring).
The guilt which had rapidly evaporated on seeing my organized kitchen is back full force. I have spent so much on stocking up and yet in the last three years, have used less than 25% of what I have in my kitchen. Wasteful, zero planning / organising skills and WORSE - procrastinator.
This is what I found:
I have seven types of lentils – moong green and yellow, masur, chana, arhar, two types of rajma, lobia (am not sure if the last two are lentils)
3 types of breakfast cereals,
2 types of rice
4 types of cooking oil – mustard, vegetable, and two bottles of olive oil
11 type of sauces including teriyaki and black bean
10 Indian spices – cumin, coriander, poppy seed, ajwain, saunf, kalonji, black and yellow mustard, black and white sesame seed, radhuni, cardamom, cinnamon, mace, black pepper, red dried chilies, chili flakes, cloves green and black, thyme, oregano, basil and one mixed herb
Fried garlic and onions
Sooji, soya bean, dalia….
I am going to take a photo of my now tidy kitchen (should have taken one of the messy one too...but its too late now) to remind myself of the perils of procrastination.
PS - Now that I think about it, my desk at work was always messy. And ocassionally when things got really out of hand, once in 6 months or so, I would take couple of hours of tidying it up. And it would be such an event. People would gather to see. The housekeeping would provide me with a large garbage bin to dispose the useless papers and other stuff. A colleague V, would always click pictures on her cell of the before and after and send me the jpgs.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Noodles for Comfort
Its raining today. A pleasant relief from the opressive humidity of yesterday. Just right for some Comfort Food. Specifically, what I call R's Noodles for Comfort. Recipe up at Timid Cook.
Bon Appetit!
Bon Appetit!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
To Sir, with love
Today is Teacher's Day in India, celebrated every year on the birth anniversary of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, former President of India.
I have happy memories of this day when I was in school. The senior students (Class 7 & 8) took classes for the juniors (Class I to VI)! We followed the normal class time table but instead of Verma Sir, Sahu Sir or Das Madam, it would be Swati or Chetan or Sangeeta taking the class! And at the end of the day or was it the next day, at assembly, the best student - teacher would be announced!
Throughout my school days and later, college, university and when I was learning french, I have had many teachers : good, mediocre and frightening! None of them however inspired me to do anything astounding. Despite that, they are part of my personal history.
Sahu Sir, to whom, we collectively professed our love to, and I think scared him out of his wits (most of us where silly gigly third graders); Kovalan Sir, who became an instant hero when he caught the snake (a harmless grass snake that had somehow crept into a class on that summer day, so long ago, in Assam), twirled it round and round and flung it far away; Nadeema Madam my first arabic teacher who gave me such a hard time (I had joined my class after going to the Middle east, in mid term and was having a hard time with the aleph, bet etc); My math professor in Kolkata who made integration and differentiation into an art form (I wish my class would go on for ever, so lucidly and easily he taught us); Michel in Ecole des Roches in Paris - who would do crazy things to keep the entire morning class wide awake and pick up some french and many others whom I can't remember.
They had their lives, their families, their sorrows and happinesses too....but to me and maybe many other students they were simply - teacher. And although not all our memories of school and teachers might be good or memorable, they did to some extent, acutally more than 'some', made a change in our lives.
Therefore, to all of them, I wish, Happy Teacher's day.
I have happy memories of this day when I was in school. The senior students (Class 7 & 8) took classes for the juniors (Class I to VI)! We followed the normal class time table but instead of Verma Sir, Sahu Sir or Das Madam, it would be Swati or Chetan or Sangeeta taking the class! And at the end of the day or was it the next day, at assembly, the best student - teacher would be announced!
Throughout my school days and later, college, university and when I was learning french, I have had many teachers : good, mediocre and frightening! None of them however inspired me to do anything astounding. Despite that, they are part of my personal history.
Sahu Sir, to whom, we collectively professed our love to, and I think scared him out of his wits (most of us where silly gigly third graders); Kovalan Sir, who became an instant hero when he caught the snake (a harmless grass snake that had somehow crept into a class on that summer day, so long ago, in Assam), twirled it round and round and flung it far away; Nadeema Madam my first arabic teacher who gave me such a hard time (I had joined my class after going to the Middle east, in mid term and was having a hard time with the aleph, bet etc); My math professor in Kolkata who made integration and differentiation into an art form (I wish my class would go on for ever, so lucidly and easily he taught us); Michel in Ecole des Roches in Paris - who would do crazy things to keep the entire morning class wide awake and pick up some french and many others whom I can't remember.
They had their lives, their families, their sorrows and happinesses too....but to me and maybe many other students they were simply - teacher. And although not all our memories of school and teachers might be good or memorable, they did to some extent, acutally more than 'some', made a change in our lives.
Therefore, to all of them, I wish, Happy Teacher's day.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Shankarpur Revisited
I had last been to Shankarpur in 1999. Along with Digha, about 10 kms away and neighboring Orissa, this used to be the longest unbroken coastline in the world. Digha was and continues to be West Bengal’s favourite seaside haunt, bursting at the seams with a million hotels and restaurants and what seems like entire West Bengal holidaying there, despite an empty Shankarpur next door with a lovely, virgin beach and handful of tourist – about 10 or 15, perhaps even less. When I recently revisited Shankarpur along with A and R (this was couple of years ago). Nothing seemed to have changed. We still had the place to ourselves except for the handful of tea shacks and fishermen and hotel staff.
The route from Calcutta to Shankarpur though considerably shortened (it took 4 hours instead of the earlier 6) was in patches terrible and our rickety ambassador was in constant fear of coming apart! Also, to enliven things up a bit, the radiator heated up and the hood blew off while we were cruising at full steam ahead, and fell on the windshield completely obscuring our view while we came to a rather shaky halt. Thank god there was no major traffic on the road. Our resourceful driver tied the bonnet to the chassis with a bit of a string and we were ready to go!
The scenic beauty more than made up for the discomfort of the terrible heat and humidity and the mamoth potholes. The foliage grew in wild profusion on either side of the road with none of the symmetry that is so inherent in the deepest of forests in Europe, but no less beautiful. The ash winding road, red earth bordering it was in places completely yellow due to fallen leaves crushed underfoot.
The greenery was broken at intervals by a shrill flash of colour of a house, the bigger the house, (meaning the more prosperous), the more colourful it was. The architecture too got more ambitious: cupolas, turrets, green, red, yellow, blue tiled walls; window grills with fantastic work on them.
More interesting were the small temples by the roadside at regular intervals, indicating the presence of a village. Mostly these were low roofed one room affairs. But that is were the similarity ended. Each and everyone were beautiful and different. One had, I remember catching a glimpse as we whizzed past, large oval platters with Krishna, Subhadra and Balaram's faces painted on them. Another had a life size Shiva, Parvati seated on a bench under a tiled roof, as if waiting for the next bus! In the 200 kms to Shankarpur, we passed nearly 20 such temples, including couple of mosque and one church.
It would be nice to travel the country and photograph these temples. Here's another of my "Things I'd like to do, someday" idea, thought of and filed away. Actually, if I were to be 100% honest, the thinking it up and dreaming about it gives me more pleasure.
It was four hours of delightful rural scenery: A women in a red saree, spreading grains on the road to be husked under the tyres of passing vehicles. In places, coconut replaced the grains. Bullock carts ambling by; cowherds leading their skinny cattle somewhere; kids fishing, locals going on their daily lives just as they had been for generations, completely oblivious to the huge hoardings dotting the place advertising mobile phones, corn flakes and latest gadgets and ignoring the fancy car loads of tourists whizzing past.
At the hotel, we had taken two garden view rooms, a better bargain, we later found out even though the 'garden' was nothing more than a messy green field where the hotel staff hung out their personal laundry! The more dearer Sea view was really the 'Tila' or hillock view studded with jhow trees which blocked any view of the beach that lay just behind it! We were the only tourist in the entire hotel and in fact in the entire area. So we did get some personal attention everywhere we went. In fact the staff at our hotel took to us so much that they had no qualms in wondering around in towels in front of us, bathing under the tap in the courtyard, making no pretence whatsoever of being a three star hotel! By Friday (when we were checking out) they had gotten their act together, sprucing up the places, getting into uniform for the hectic weekends when the hotel would be fully packed.
The Sea was unbelievably beautiful and the fact that we two were the only people bathing in that entire stretch had A extremely surprised. It was like having our own private beach, except the tea stalls and the fishermen and R who sat decorously in one of the tea stalls and broke many hearts. She was such a hit at Shankarpur. Quite a few people asked her if they had seen her someplace!
We took a trip to Digha in the evening. There is a very nice promenade by the sea dotted with souvernir stalls selling the most wonderful trinkets, jewellery and knick-knacks made entirely of sea shells. A new addition are stalls selling all sorts of sea fish that you pick up and they fry. We had to regretfully avoid the large prawns, A having just recovered from Typhoid.
R caused a sensation wherever she went. She thought of nothing to parade about in Digha in silk shirt and black trousers, every strand of hair and make up in place while A and I roamed around like a pair of sun burnt country bumpkins. She caused a jam at the shooting gallery in Digha where she popped balloon after balloon (one can hardly miss at that range). I could have walked past naked and not one person would have batted an eyelid, much to A's dismay.
I was very frightened should any one took too much of a liking to her and so at night, I made her stack a flimsy table against the door of her room and piled it up with glasses and bottles so that should anyone try to enter, the glasses would fall and warn her and give her enough time to ring me up. And I would sail in like a Royal Bengal Tigress! Luckily, nothing happened, no one got hurt except perhaps A's ego. He mentioned quite a few times to whoever would listen that S (me) is very popular in France!!!
After three days of sea, sand and sea food, we returned to Kolkata, but stopping for lunch, not at Sher e Punjab dhaba (much to A's dismay - it would mean a lengthy detour), but at a place called - wait for this - "Sher e Bengal"... obviously Punjabi dhaba food with a good dose of Bengal in it!!
I am told that apart from the odd Film crew (mostly Bengali, but also Mani Ratnam's Yuva) and a handful of tourist, Shankarpur still remains pristine. Thank god for that. And if you do happen to go there and find it the way we did, do make the effort to visit Digha next door: Just to savor the contrast!
The route from Calcutta to Shankarpur though considerably shortened (it took 4 hours instead of the earlier 6) was in patches terrible and our rickety ambassador was in constant fear of coming apart! Also, to enliven things up a bit, the radiator heated up and the hood blew off while we were cruising at full steam ahead, and fell on the windshield completely obscuring our view while we came to a rather shaky halt. Thank god there was no major traffic on the road. Our resourceful driver tied the bonnet to the chassis with a bit of a string and we were ready to go!
The scenic beauty more than made up for the discomfort of the terrible heat and humidity and the mamoth potholes. The foliage grew in wild profusion on either side of the road with none of the symmetry that is so inherent in the deepest of forests in Europe, but no less beautiful. The ash winding road, red earth bordering it was in places completely yellow due to fallen leaves crushed underfoot.
The greenery was broken at intervals by a shrill flash of colour of a house, the bigger the house, (meaning the more prosperous), the more colourful it was. The architecture too got more ambitious: cupolas, turrets, green, red, yellow, blue tiled walls; window grills with fantastic work on them.
More interesting were the small temples by the roadside at regular intervals, indicating the presence of a village. Mostly these were low roofed one room affairs. But that is were the similarity ended. Each and everyone were beautiful and different. One had, I remember catching a glimpse as we whizzed past, large oval platters with Krishna, Subhadra and Balaram's faces painted on them. Another had a life size Shiva, Parvati seated on a bench under a tiled roof, as if waiting for the next bus! In the 200 kms to Shankarpur, we passed nearly 20 such temples, including couple of mosque and one church.
It would be nice to travel the country and photograph these temples. Here's another of my "Things I'd like to do, someday" idea, thought of and filed away. Actually, if I were to be 100% honest, the thinking it up and dreaming about it gives me more pleasure.
It was four hours of delightful rural scenery: A women in a red saree, spreading grains on the road to be husked under the tyres of passing vehicles. In places, coconut replaced the grains. Bullock carts ambling by; cowherds leading their skinny cattle somewhere; kids fishing, locals going on their daily lives just as they had been for generations, completely oblivious to the huge hoardings dotting the place advertising mobile phones, corn flakes and latest gadgets and ignoring the fancy car loads of tourists whizzing past.
At the hotel, we had taken two garden view rooms, a better bargain, we later found out even though the 'garden' was nothing more than a messy green field where the hotel staff hung out their personal laundry! The more dearer Sea view was really the 'Tila' or hillock view studded with jhow trees which blocked any view of the beach that lay just behind it! We were the only tourist in the entire hotel and in fact in the entire area. So we did get some personal attention everywhere we went. In fact the staff at our hotel took to us so much that they had no qualms in wondering around in towels in front of us, bathing under the tap in the courtyard, making no pretence whatsoever of being a three star hotel! By Friday (when we were checking out) they had gotten their act together, sprucing up the places, getting into uniform for the hectic weekends when the hotel would be fully packed.
The Sea was unbelievably beautiful and the fact that we two were the only people bathing in that entire stretch had A extremely surprised. It was like having our own private beach, except the tea stalls and the fishermen and R who sat decorously in one of the tea stalls and broke many hearts. She was such a hit at Shankarpur. Quite a few people asked her if they had seen her someplace!
We took a trip to Digha in the evening. There is a very nice promenade by the sea dotted with souvernir stalls selling the most wonderful trinkets, jewellery and knick-knacks made entirely of sea shells. A new addition are stalls selling all sorts of sea fish that you pick up and they fry. We had to regretfully avoid the large prawns, A having just recovered from Typhoid.
R caused a sensation wherever she went. She thought of nothing to parade about in Digha in silk shirt and black trousers, every strand of hair and make up in place while A and I roamed around like a pair of sun burnt country bumpkins. She caused a jam at the shooting gallery in Digha where she popped balloon after balloon (one can hardly miss at that range). I could have walked past naked and not one person would have batted an eyelid, much to A's dismay.
I was very frightened should any one took too much of a liking to her and so at night, I made her stack a flimsy table against the door of her room and piled it up with glasses and bottles so that should anyone try to enter, the glasses would fall and warn her and give her enough time to ring me up. And I would sail in like a Royal Bengal Tigress! Luckily, nothing happened, no one got hurt except perhaps A's ego. He mentioned quite a few times to whoever would listen that S (me) is very popular in France!!!
After three days of sea, sand and sea food, we returned to Kolkata, but stopping for lunch, not at Sher e Punjab dhaba (much to A's dismay - it would mean a lengthy detour), but at a place called - wait for this - "Sher e Bengal"... obviously Punjabi dhaba food with a good dose of Bengal in it!!
I am told that apart from the odd Film crew (mostly Bengali, but also Mani Ratnam's Yuva) and a handful of tourist, Shankarpur still remains pristine. Thank god for that. And if you do happen to go there and find it the way we did, do make the effort to visit Digha next door: Just to savor the contrast!
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