my travels
Back from my tour of Delhi, Bangalore and Calcutta.
Work, being the way it is, did not allow me much time to gallivant in either Delhi or Bangalore. The only sightseeing that I did in Delhi was from the hotel to the studio, and from within the confines of our car.
Bangalore offered me more opportunity. I needed some stationary and decided to go look for it myself. I wandered on the streets of this great city for an hour and a half in the burning heat (to the sun's credit, it was kinder here than in Delhi), but still no stationary shops. However, every minute we would spot a new wine shop, with people standing at the counter itself and having their day's first.
There was no dearth of movie theatres either. Every small gully had a movie hall with huge cut outs of male film stars on the outside. The size of the theatre building itself. Atleast 10 garlands made of golden paper adorned each cut out. And it was only 11am, but there were already crowds waiting for the theatre to open. It was not even a Sunday.
Anyways, moving on to Calcutta.
While Delhi and Bangalore had its fair share of perverts, Calcutta emerged the winner, hands down. I think all the sexually frustrated men in the country are housed here. I had just stepped into Calcutta and in ten minutes had already got brushed against, honked at, serenaded and winked at atleast 10 times.
On the last day of my stay here, we got some three hours to ourselves. So a colleague and me decided to go sightseeing. Howrah Bridge we had passed while on our way to the studio, so Shivani did not feel the need of going back. I wanted to see Victoria Palace while she insisted on Kali Ghat. I was feeling generous that day, so I agreed to go to Kali Ghat with her first.
Even though I'm not religious I like visiting temples, dargahs and churches. I usually like the feel of such places. But Kali Ghat was something else. My usual romantic self had visualised a quaint little temple on top of a hill (where would anyone find a hill in Calcutta, i don't know, but I don't usually make use of logic).
When we reached Kali Ghat, I just wanted to run all the way back. The first man we met was one of the dalals, or someone who would get us access to the priest. He made Shivani buy some offerings and insisted that I do too. But seeing my stubborn face and the apparent disgust on it, he backed off. We went inside. I had started hating Shivani already. Then we had to do namaskar to some idol, after which we were made to stand in a line to get into the main temple, so we could worship the idol of Kali. As soon as we entered the main temple, the priest with us - he looked like a pucca fraud - started reciting some prayers. Each group of people was accompanied by a separate priest and each priest was trying to be louder than the others.
The temple was the dirtiest I have ever seen. Grease and dirt clung to its walls. The funniest part was that people had even written their names on the walls, like we do on dusty car windshields. There was a Raju loves Joyeeta proclamation too.
Anyways, as we crawled forward, the priest kept nudging me to close my eyes and pray. Finally I lost it and snapped at him to shut up. "Haath mat lagao...aur aankh bandh nahi karne ka hai bola na.." I yelled in my Bambaiyya Hindi. The family behind me stopped praying. My priest muttered something and from then on, spoke only to Shivani. Finally we reached the idol. There were two priests there - both put something on to my forehead, which I rubbed off immediately. We finally came out. But even here, the vultures wouldn't let go. Now another priest came forward and started praying over us. And then of course asked for money. Thankfully, even Shivani did not give any money this time. The prayers itself were so banal. He asked me if I was married. When I said no, he prayed that "bade ghar mein shaadi ho jaaye".
We needed to pay up even when we went to pick up our chappals. And then the priest and the dalal. Shivani of course did all the paying up.
We finally sat in the taxi and made our way to Victoria Palace.
Work, being the way it is, did not allow me much time to gallivant in either Delhi or Bangalore. The only sightseeing that I did in Delhi was from the hotel to the studio, and from within the confines of our car.
Bangalore offered me more opportunity. I needed some stationary and decided to go look for it myself. I wandered on the streets of this great city for an hour and a half in the burning heat (to the sun's credit, it was kinder here than in Delhi), but still no stationary shops. However, every minute we would spot a new wine shop, with people standing at the counter itself and having their day's first.
There was no dearth of movie theatres either. Every small gully had a movie hall with huge cut outs of male film stars on the outside. The size of the theatre building itself. Atleast 10 garlands made of golden paper adorned each cut out. And it was only 11am, but there were already crowds waiting for the theatre to open. It was not even a Sunday.
Anyways, moving on to Calcutta.
While Delhi and Bangalore had its fair share of perverts, Calcutta emerged the winner, hands down. I think all the sexually frustrated men in the country are housed here. I had just stepped into Calcutta and in ten minutes had already got brushed against, honked at, serenaded and winked at atleast 10 times.
On the last day of my stay here, we got some three hours to ourselves. So a colleague and me decided to go sightseeing. Howrah Bridge we had passed while on our way to the studio, so Shivani did not feel the need of going back. I wanted to see Victoria Palace while she insisted on Kali Ghat. I was feeling generous that day, so I agreed to go to Kali Ghat with her first.
Even though I'm not religious I like visiting temples, dargahs and churches. I usually like the feel of such places. But Kali Ghat was something else. My usual romantic self had visualised a quaint little temple on top of a hill (where would anyone find a hill in Calcutta, i don't know, but I don't usually make use of logic).
When we reached Kali Ghat, I just wanted to run all the way back. The first man we met was one of the dalals, or someone who would get us access to the priest. He made Shivani buy some offerings and insisted that I do too. But seeing my stubborn face and the apparent disgust on it, he backed off. We went inside. I had started hating Shivani already. Then we had to do namaskar to some idol, after which we were made to stand in a line to get into the main temple, so we could worship the idol of Kali. As soon as we entered the main temple, the priest with us - he looked like a pucca fraud - started reciting some prayers. Each group of people was accompanied by a separate priest and each priest was trying to be louder than the others.
The temple was the dirtiest I have ever seen. Grease and dirt clung to its walls. The funniest part was that people had even written their names on the walls, like we do on dusty car windshields. There was a Raju loves Joyeeta proclamation too.
Anyways, as we crawled forward, the priest kept nudging me to close my eyes and pray. Finally I lost it and snapped at him to shut up. "Haath mat lagao...aur aankh bandh nahi karne ka hai bola na.." I yelled in my Bambaiyya Hindi. The family behind me stopped praying. My priest muttered something and from then on, spoke only to Shivani. Finally we reached the idol. There were two priests there - both put something on to my forehead, which I rubbed off immediately. We finally came out. But even here, the vultures wouldn't let go. Now another priest came forward and started praying over us. And then of course asked for money. Thankfully, even Shivani did not give any money this time. The prayers itself were so banal. He asked me if I was married. When I said no, he prayed that "bade ghar mein shaadi ho jaaye".
We needed to pay up even when we went to pick up our chappals. And then the priest and the dalal. Shivani of course did all the paying up.
We finally sat in the taxi and made our way to Victoria Palace.
posted by another wanderer | Saturday, September 16, 2006
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