Poyla Boishakh after 6 years......

I do not deny the fact that I am a foodie of sorts and you can surely find a few extra pounds hanging here and there even after trying to slog for hours at the gym at my workplace. Nonetheless food attracts me with an attraction that can be compared to the fascination that Captain Haddock has for alcoholic things or Obelix has for wild roasted boars. And this weekend was all about falling in love with Bengali food over and over again and coming into touch with the Bengali roots of mine that has become a bit hazy since the last 5 years that I have stayed outside Bengal missing every possible festival and fanfare.

The ocassion was the Bengali New Year also known as Poila Boishakh which during my childhood I was content with calling Koyla Boishakh. The Bengali souls whom I have lunch with at my workplace, wanted me to treat them for an imminent onsite assignment that has stayed imminent for a very long time at 6, Ballygunge Place, a very upmarket Bengali food restaurant. So on the 14th of April which was supposed to be the last day of the year 1413 accroding to the Bengali calendar we landed up at the restaurant in the Indranagar area of Bangalore. I was literally starving thanks to an all night power cut on Friday which did not allow me to microwave my Maggi for dinner and finally I had also skipped my breakfast. Though we did not have any reservations we still could manage to get seats without much fanfare. Incidentally the only thing on the menu for the day was the buffet priced at a whooping Rs465+ taxes. Surely the rates were a bit too much if you were not that hungry on any given day. But since the three of us had been hungry enough on that day we decided to gulp down as much as we could to make the best out of the 465 that we were about to spend. It is a seperate story that if people were as like minded as us three, 6 Ballygunge place would have seen its P&L account for those two days in deep shades of red.

To make the lesser mortals jealous here is the list of things that we had in our unlimited buffet:

1. Aam Panna Shorbot

2. Bhat

3. Cholar Daal

4. Alur Dom

5. Alu Potol

6. Luchi

7. Begun Bhaja

8. Fish Fry

9. Chingri Macher Malai Curry

10. Bhapa Ilish

11. Doi Chicken

12. Mutton Kosha

13. Chatni

14. Papad

15. Lengcha

16. Shondesh

17. Roshogolla

18. Mishti Doi

19. Pan

and as in any Bengali menu card the 20th item was surely Abar Ashben (which translated into Bengali meant Please come again...), which after gulping down multiple quantities the abar ashben part was quite an improbable thing to do. And obviously after this kind of a gastronomic adventure my condition was similar to that of a Bengali film actor in a movie of yesteryears who in a film had eaten so much that he had to be carried home in a charpai. Realising that no charpai was coming my way, I was contended with the thought of going back to my home in an auto and drop off into a deep afternoon siesta in a typical Bengali ishtyle.

Sunday saw us continue with the insane idea that started off as a small conversation on the bulletin board of our organisation on Friday afternoon and make it a huge success. Friday afternoon events on the bulletin board saw some desperate soul suggesting the idea of a Poila Boishakh celebration in typical Bengali style. And then it started with people adding up names to the list of people interested in any kind of Poila Boishakh celebration. Soon the list was filled with names who were very much interested in the idea. Friday evening saw some 7-8 people assemble in the Cafe Coffee Day of the workplace and after a heartful round of adda of more than 2 hours, we finally came up with a plan to celebrate Poila Boishakh in a typical Bengali way. So it was Ranajoy's bari in BTM that became host to a celebration of the Bengali spirit.

A group of 20 people, had finally made it for the adda, which by any estimate was a good number. Barely knowing each other, the spirit of adda spread wide and fast and finally every one was affected by the adda virus. The topics ranged from outrageous teachers in classes, to Saurav Ganguly, going forward to Arsenal and Satyajit Ray's films and finally moving on to more mundane topics like work and coding. Discussed over sips of beer from the big Kingfisher cans bought for the occassion it was one heck of an adda session. Lunch consisted of Biriyani (finally the North Indian style) and chicken allong with mishti doi and sweets. Post lunch the mood turned creative with Kishore da songs being sung followed by the more contemporary Baranday Roddur of Bhoomi. A guy amongst us called Avra mesmerized us with his sarod playing skills and followed it up with a performance on the mouth organ. After 6 years of being out of touch with the spirit of Poila Boishakh, it was a beautiful feeling going back to the roots and bathing myself in the spirit of Bangalinaya. And before I sign off its a Shubho Noboborsho to one and all. Tomra shokole boro ebong choto ra amar shubho noboborsher priti o shubhechha niyo. Beche thakuk Bangaliyana spirit.

Weakness-e-pedia

It took 277 tries to successfully clone clone the much famous sheep Dolly as one of my teachers had said in one of the famous Bio classes way back in school. And it took almost the same kind of effort to procure tickets for the newly released Mira Nair film called Namesake based on the book by the same name written by Jhumpa Lahiri. The sheer lack of quality theatres in Bangalore had ensured that Namesake was released in only one movie hall making the possibilty of getting tickets as remote as listening to Rabri Devi speak fluent english. So there I was enquiring about the tickets at Rex for the next day's show when the guy on the other side obviously bored with the mundane job of scratching off seats on the seating sheets and counting money and tearing away tickets from the colourful ticket books gave me a nasty look and suggested that I better read the fine prints that adorned the many sides of the window and hence I found that I was 45 minutes late and advance booking was again scheduled to start at 10A.M the next day. As an afterthought the guy who had just given me the nasty look told me to come back the next morning for the tickets. So there I was the next morning all decked up for Mission Ticket when a notice at the movie hall caught my eyes and making me feel as stupid and angry as possible. Apparently the 5-15 show of Namesake did not have any advance bookings and booking was to start at sharp 3-30 for the show. I landed up at a friend's place and promised her that I would cook only to fall asleep and considering the kind of lazy bum that I am we both landed up eating junk at Mc. Donalds rather than taking the pains to cook. At the much auspicious hour of 3-30, the shubh lagan, the shubh muhrat when Namesake bookings were to start I found myself standing in a line that had kind of snaked its way to look as big as a python. In flat 8 minutes the entire balcony tickets were sold out and when the shutters were downed as I stood awaiting my turn, third in the line feeling as sheepish and angry as possible. Finally it had become a matter of pride to get the tickets after being turned down three times on one pretext or the other. The Rear Stalls did have seats to spare for our group of 6 and the movie was much enjoyable though the seats were uncomfortable, the popcorn was sad and the security were all angry and shouting at the same time.

And finally I became aware of the Frankinstein in me when one of the select few people who read my blog (a number that is less than the number of Amur Leopards alive in the world) suggested that I should list down my weaknesses in one of the posts here. At first glance it looked like a typically MBA entrance or two years down the line from that an MBA placement kind of a question but on closer examination it seemed like she wanted to know what makes me feel vulnerable. Considering the fact that I have bugged her a lot, I am sure about this fact that if she meets me (ever that is) she would bring with her an entire army of well built, Akhada going, Hanuman worshipping pehalwans to beat me up. So here is a list of all the things that make me the Frankinstein that I am and by the time u reach to the end of this list you would be sure that I am the one whom your mom told you to stay away from!

1. I am scared, morbidly scared, scared to the levels of a phobia of getting bored. I dislile people, jobs, situations that make me strive to follow a routine. After all if life were so predictable what would have been the fun of living it? I am the one who would love to stay awake all night and sing his heart out or gaze at the stars rather than fall asleep just because it is the night. So if there is something that draws on to becoming mundane, I am not the one who would be dragging along a relationship like a committed boyfriend. And that makes me one who is always a misfit for relationships, a guy whom girls can never trust. But on the flipside I am the one who would love to drink and graduate to the Nile from the Ganges. The voice is shouting something while reading this.....err it sounds like "You are too self centred an asshole."
2. Am a non confrontationist of obscene standards, I am the one who would prefer just to walk away from an autowalla who is charging extra and asking someone else rather than indulge in a fist fight or verbal abuse with the first autowalla. That makes people beleive that I am coward who does not have the guts to fight. Maybe they are right but it is more of a feeling of being in peace with my ownself that kind of draws me back from falling for a fist fight or verbal abuse. I am not the modern genration Gandhiji who would give his other face for a slap when he has been slapped at the first instance. I would be the first person to move out of the situation and land up in greener pastures if you rub me in the wrong ways. Err what did you say Mr. Voice??"Banda c****** hai, fight nahi kar sakta!"
3. I am one of the laziest creatures to have walked the face of the planet. Much lazier than the overweight ball of fur called Garfield and would have surely had a pole position if I were to compete for being lazy. But alas why compete, because that would make me active in certain ways. This fact can be well proved from the pile of clothes that lie around in my house at any point of time awaiting to be washed. Awaaz aa rahi hai Mr. Voice ka "Chullu bhar pani mein doob mar, kalmuhe lazy bone"
4. I put on my MBA cap everywhere and in every aspect of life. That makes me go in for all kinds of practical approaches to face life and find out solutions for every problem. That makes me shun my ego, get my clothes dirty in the mud of unethical practices and finally accept the fact that not all can be acheived given the limited resources and situations and hence look for short cuts. I am way too non emotional at times making me seem like an apparent monster. The voice says "Unemotional ass, you should be hanged and stripped and flogged for being like this!"

For the rest of the worser qualities and much more of the weakness part of it get in touch. And yah before I finish off someone forwarded this and I found it cute enough a demonstration of lateral thinking. Check it out: