An Indian Winter

Now I am sitting at Hithrow Airport, London waiting for my connecting flight to Chicago and onward to
Houston. The flight from Kolkata to London had started at an odd hour - 4:30 am. So, pretty much had
to spend the night awake. Also made my parents stay awake who had insisted on seeing my off till the 
very end. Heard quite a few people complaining about the odd hour and how airlines treat people
of third world countries. No airline would dare schedule such a flight time out of Europe or America.
Further evidence of the callousness towards third world people was shown by making us go down stairs 
and walk to the waiting bus. One does not expect that in the western world, a concourse had been
provided to almost all other flights. Oh well...what else can I say but - Our time will come, soon, very soon.
And we will remember every ounce of the treatment that is meted out to us. I had this fever of optimism
on this visit to India. This is why I sat down to pen down my memories and realizations and dreams. My 
beloved country is a not a country with just potential, it is a country where development has permeated to
almost every level of society and the feel-good...no, feel-great factor, is everywhere in the air.

I had gone to India after 2 years, while doing my PhD in USA. And it was for a long time - almost 40 days.
Therefore I had a chance to imbibe the spirit completely. Ma noticed my change over the duration of
my stay. True, after I landed I was a little bit taken aback by what I saw - the poverty, the congestion of
Kolkata - I had almost forgotten about it. But by the end of my long vacation I was as used to everyday
travails as I always was. oh...well..time to board the aircraft for Chicago now....

On the plane, cruising altitude.Just finished browsing through the highlife magazine of American Airlines.
A column in which the columnist is writing about he discovering his love for being a columnist. Suddenly, I
realize I maybe want to be the same. I had a notion I wanted to be a journalist, but I now realize I want to
reflect more and cover less on details - basically ramble on without saying anything. :-) But, I digress....
Back to my one month experience - an Indian Winter. It would be ramblings, jotting down whatever
comes to my mind and digressing whenever I feel like. Dont say I did'nt warn you.

Landing on the 7th of Dec, 2003 at Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose International Aiport, Kolkata at 4:30 am I
was excited. Terribly so. Was meeting my parents and whole family after more than a year. The journey from
Houston was pretty uneventful, allowing me to concentrate on the book I just started - Zen and the Art of
Motorcycle Maintainance. It would be an understatement to say that the book took quite a bit of my 
concentration. On  the flight from London, I met 2 college friends - one who was getting married within a week.
And another still evidently in bliss after 1 year of tying the knot. Was so happy to finally meet my parents who
were waiting outside. Piled onto our Zen for the 30 min 25 km ride home to Baisnabghata Patuli in South 
Kolkata. The morning was foggy as are most kolkata winter mornings - the reason my plane had to circle for
a bit before getting the clearance to land. I was chattering non-stop about everything that came to my mind. 
I phone, mail, chat often with home, but.....technology can never deliver the sheer joy of talking to a person in
flesh. Good news greated me on arrival. A cousin had given birth to a daughter the same day morning. 
Parents went to see mother and child while I finally fell asleep in the afternoon - midnight at the place I live.
I started savoring the lip-smacking Bengali dishes soon enough. Next few days were spent in visiting 
relatives - my dida, pishis, mamas and kakas. All had grown older. And the young cousins had grown bigger.
A queer mixture of sadness and happiness engulfed me. I talked a great deal about life there and got to know
what is new here. I had lots of stories to tell. I travel quite a bit there and am thoroughly enjoying my stay there,
secure in the knowledge that very soon I will be returning home permanently. Kolkata though was pretty 
depressing - more chaotic and haphazard. Or, maybe my eyes had changed. Or, maybe both. Though I 
would eventually get used to it again - crossing roads and driving, somehow I think that spending my job
life in Kolkata would not be that reasonable. Guilty-conciously I also try to convince myself that I can give
back to the city more by staying outside it and not getting caught up in the vortex. Baba has been trying it for 
the last 5 years, and though quite successful in his effort has been aching for much more. That was maybe 
the reason I decided what I did. So, return to India soon? Yes. To Kolkata now? No. Bangalore or Delhi
was the answer. Both very well developed in their technology industries. Bangalore with its awesome cool
climatic charms, and Delhi for its proximity with the Himalayas. Mountains were my first love after all.

The second week was spending in attending the marriages and receptions for a few of my friends. Met my
old school and college friends after a long time - some in India working, some in US studying. Quickly 
discovered that none of us have changed a bit, save for the varied experiences we have had. I quickly
discovered that not everything was lost for Kolkata. Brand new flyovers were speeding up the clogged traffic 
of Kolkata, as were the multiple skyscrapers changing the skyline. Lots of new shopping complexes and
malls and cafes were starting to dot the city. The people finally had the oportunity to spend more money and
get more quality. Shopper's Stop, Cotton World, FabIndia, WestSide, etc, had all made its debut in the city.
The new Communist chief minister of of state seemed much more able to lead Bengal to recover its former 
glory. I might seem partisan in always speaking of Bengal and Kolkata, though being as fierce a pan-Indian
and a nationalist as any one else. Baba though had convinced me through impeccable logic that everyone
thinking about his own world only would quickly contribute to greater good for everybody. I realized that
it is nothing but capitalism - everyone works for his own development and doing so the whole nation 
progresses much faster. So, me thinking of Bengal and a Gujrati thinking of his state would lead to 
faster development of both our states than both thinking of pan-Indian development. 

Ma had decorated our house very tastefully. I started calling our living room the museum for the varied 
artifacts from around the world. My parents had started globe-trotting quite a bit recently travelling to such
locales such as China, Korea, Japan, Thailand, Egypt, Israel, and have collected a varied and tasteful 
collection from these places. Really amazing how pretty-as-a-picture our house was looking. Ma though
protested saying that "museum" are for the dead. But what I meant was aka Louvre of Paris, Salar Jung of
Hyderabad. Was getting overstuffed with all the invitations for food. A few times, I even starting not liking 
so much food. But then the hog in me stirred every time it say such tasty food. After all you you get this
only during the winter homecoming. Ma calls us aptly "Shiter Pakhi" meaning winter birds.

I longed to get away from the humdrum of the city for a while into the country. Parents had arranged for a 7
day trip the forests of north Bengal, called Duars or the Door (to North East India). On 22 Dec, we left for
Siliguri. Along with us were a few close family friends. We had booked through a very competent travel
club called NJoy travels, which my parents regularly availed the services of. We spent 3 days at a place 
close to Gorumara National Park. We stayed in small cottages, where electricity has not even reached. On
the horizon we could see the grandiose Himalayas. Our tour guide was a fun person, regaling us with
stories of his experiences in his 8 years of travel agency. On the whole the stay was pleasant, puncuated by
sojourns into the forests regularly. Alas, wildlife eluded us. On the last night of our stay, a herd of wild 
elephants came close by trumpeting away. Fires and searchlights were lit by the villagers in the neighbouring
hamlets in an effort to scare away the elephants. The elephants, I was told, came in search of food and
rampaged and damaged the crops. Everyone was very tense out watching out for the elephants lest they come
our way. Finally, they went away scared by all the noise and lights. I slept well that night, but I don't think I can
say the same for few other members of our group who were shivering at the thought of spending nights in 
a thatched hut with rampaging elephants all around. After that we reached a place called Rajabhatkhaoya.
The name originated from the fact that the kings of Coochbehar and Bhutan after having fought a lot of
inconclusive battles decided to bury the hatchet throwing a huge party at the place. It was close to Buxar
tiger reserve and Jayantia hills. We went on a terribly exciting night safari that night into Buxar Tiger Reserve.
This thoroughly illegal venture into the forest at night in a car with a searchlight was an experience. The forest
looked so menancing in the night, leopards seemed to be waiting for just the right moment to leap out at us.
we went to 23 mile and 25 mile - two forest ranger watchout towers - at the core of the tiger reserve.
Standing on top of those tree houses in the dark, I fell in love with the forest yet again. Yet again, because
spending 2 nights in the middle of Jim Corbett Natinal Park still stands out as a jewel in the crown of my
eperiences. The forest was lit up with hundreds of thousands of fireflys. We once got down from the car in the
middle of the forest to catch a glimpse of a fild lone tusker in a clearing in the forest. Next day we left for
Jaintia Hills, a charming river bed right at the border with Bhutan. In the area there was a major operation 
going on to flush out the ULFA and KLA rebels and army was omnipresent. In fact, national highway 34, the
livewire of north east passing through the area had army jawans standing guard every few hundred metres
guarding all the culverts and bridges along the way. Right on the border we noticed well hidden army
lookouts on the watch for fleeing rebels across the border. Our Tata sumo got searched quite a few times by
the army, who very politely went about their duty. Time and again this comes to my mind - if people from
all works of life had as much discipline and patriotism as the armymen did, then our country has nothing to
worry for. Salute to these brave men and women, amar jawans. All through the trip I did quite a bit
of experimental photography and was gratified to see them turn out quite well. Baba ma has the unique habit
of mingling with the localities and getting a scoop of the life and work of the people there. They did the same
here recording on video their amazing experiences. Ma writes so well, and baba speaks so well - I think they
would do well to start directing travelouges after leaving their prefessorship and medicine. It has rubbed in
on my somewhat. I gathered from out driver that, no, he does not go to Gangktok in Sikkim from Siliguri 
anymore through he used to previously. Why? Because the Sikkim police at the border harrass them. why?
Because they do not have a taxi permit. They drive around their vehicles with private vehicle permits. The
west bengal police does not harrass? No, Because we have monthly. huh? Monthly means, we pay
a spacific amount to the local police and they keep their mouth shut. It is a well established procedure 
practised by almost all the drivers over there. I was appalled to see this level of low-level corruption first-hand.
I had heard stories like these, but to experience such things first hand was depressing. I learnt that law was
not the answer. We had laws. Law enforcement has to be made tight, with many checks and balances.

I returned after 7 days with a face full of beard. Grew lazy to cut off the whole thing, and settled to keep
a french beard for the first time in my life. Actually, it looked good.. Or, so I thought, claimed my brother.
we had arrived in the country by the time we returned. It was a family reunion after a long time. After 
spending 3 days in kolkata, in which we did quite a bit of roaming around and  a late night new year party, I
left very early in the morning on 1st jan, 2004 for Mumbai. Planned on this trip just 2 weeks before, to visit
friends and the place, but more importantly to visit a region which is much more developed economically
than Bengal to get a balanced view of the country. In Mumbai, I started with a sumtuous lunch at the house
of a friends family. Stayed at a friends place at Pali Hills, West Bandra for the night - supposedly a very
posh area of Mumbai. And it was. the difference between the rich and poor, the haves-and have-nots is
even more wider in Mumbai than in Kolkata. I am a ideological communist, and this pained me a bit. But, then
it is better than Kolkata, where everybody is poor, right? That night we went to Toto's Garage Pub in the 
heart of Pali Hills, and I could find no difference with the trendiest pubs in the US. Not that the pub culture is
anything to emulate though. One thing which has mushroomed all over the cities - Kolkata, Mumbai, Pune - are
the coffee houses. Called Cafes, these are trendy meeting and hanging out joints for young or young at heart
people. I had the misfortune of getting into Mumbai suburban trains during rush hours - anybody who has
travelled such will understand what I am talking about. You dont need to get down at your station, just stand
in a vantage position and crowd will push you down, your feet never touching the ground except a thump
when you fall onto the platform and back to sense. Took a late night bus to Pune. Charming town..young 
town. Filled with college crowd, no wonder everybody who has styed there loves Pune. Cafe Coffee Day
in Fergusson College road was a treat for the eyes. Went for a nice hiking trek onto Lohegarh fort - Sivajis
fort - from a place called Mohavli on the mumbai-pune line. The fort is an eagles nest perched on high hills
having a vantage view of valleys all around. We had started at 4:30 am in the morning (night?) to avoid the
hot midday sun, so for quite sometime the trekking was in darkness with a single torch our only path-bearer.

The last 10 days of my stay at Kolkata was filled with treats, treats, and more treats. Every possible variety of
meat and fish was served on my platter. Prices of prawn, goat and pabda sky-rocketed in the markets of
Kolkata. And my stomach barely managed to hold on. Now, back in my home at Houston, I am still thinking
wishfully of home, family, food and the sheer joy of staying in ones country. Right this morning big bro called 
me up. Categorically said "I am going back to India in 3/4 years. Do the same". Yes, I will. Surely.