I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and she said, "The two things that Bengalis can ever think of spending money on, are Food and Travel." As much as I hate putting large sections of people into tiny boxes labelled this and that, this I could not deny. For someone who hasn't interacted with a lot of eating and travelling Bengalis (Bongs), these labels would seem perfectly harmless. I mean, who doesn't appreciate good food and the joys of backpacking? But when you talk about Bongs and food/travel, most words fall short of expressing their true attachment to either. And this is by far the most delicate way of putting it without enraging an otherwise-peaceful-mostly-sleeping-Tagore-quoting lot.
Excerpts from my travel journal :
- I am a really quiet traveller by nature (only when travelling alone ofcourse). I stare outside the window, read a book like nobody's business and mostly keep to myself. I'm not antisocial. Far from it. Some might even call me garrulous. But I'm not your typical chatting-up strangers-on-the-train kind of guy. In the name of social courtesy, all I can ever manage to say is a half-baked Hello, which almost always comes with an awkward pursed-lip smile. I've tried replicating that in front of the mirror a couple of times, and it looks hideous to say the least, the best I-have-no-intention-of-talking-to-you smile that anyone can come up with ( Ya. Its an achievement. Let's see you do it! Ha! ). But somehow, most Bong travel companions I have had in my life don't seem to be able to read it well. Maybe they're just too social for my liking or plain daft (The latter sounds more believable.) Here's a typical exchange with my fellow Bong Indian Railways travel mate :
BongMan (tugging furiously at my duffel bag trying to fit one of his five suitcases, under the seat, which by every estimate won't fit into that tiny space; yelling): Who's bag is this?!!
Me: It's mine. (Duh!)
BongMan (an immediate lowering of voice, embarrased): Oh. It's yours? Sorry. I was actually trying to fit my suitcase under there, and was wondering who's bag this is. (Stating the obvious.)
Me: It's okay. (Hideous fake smile in place. Gawd! How do I do it? *Applause*)
BongMan (still struggling to find place for his humongous suitcases): Excuse me. If you don't mind, could you shift your bag a little to the right? I can squeeze my bag in easily then.
Me (visibly irritated with the mild accusatory tone): There's no space to the right. I'm sorry. I can't shift it further.
BongMan seemed almost offended at my lack of extending any sort of help. Well, in my defense, I was travelling alone. With one duffel bag. Inconveniencing no one. Reading an extremely interesting book. And was in no mood to wrestle with unnecessary large pieces of luggage belonging to someone else. His luggage. His problem. And trying to fit things that were obviously larger than the spaces meant to store them was not my ideal pass time. However, BongMan's incessant grunts and frantic efforts melted me a little and I offered to keep my bag in the top bunk, much to my own inconvenience. Blame my mother for giving me a weak heart!
BongMan's face lit up at my suggestion and he thanked me profusely. Note how he did not bother to ask if it would be inconvenient for me. Even for courtesy's sake. Selfish prick!
Anyway, I thought this brief annoying exchange would be the end of it. I guess I spoke too soon. The moment the train made its first chugging sound, BongMan plunged into business with gusto. The business of getting acquainted with his unfortunate fellow traveller. With shoes off, smelly feet on the seat, grabbing his pillow, and with curiosity brimming in his eyes, he started with his volley of questions:
BongMan: So where're you going?
Me (vowing to be largely monosyllabic): Calcutta.
BongMan (finding this very funny): Me too. Haha. What a coincidence!
Being from the same city made us brothers of some sort I believe. Hence the excitement.
BongMan: So where do you live?
Me (being my antisocial best): Calcutta.
BongMan (finding this funny too): Where in Calcutta?
Me: New Alipore.
BongMan (obviously unaware of the lack-of-counter-questions-meaning-no-interest-in-making-conversation theory): Oh. Bhery close. I live in Behala. (unperturbed by my lack of enthusiasm continues) What do you do in Delhi? Do you work there?
Me: No. I study.
BongMan (not giving up just yet): What do you study? Computer engineering? Medical?
Me: No. Chemistry.
BongMan (convinced that I'm an underachiever): Oh! (pity in place) Din't get through the engineering or medical exams, did you?
Me (wishing I could be invisible): No. I made it through to a few engineering schools. But I didn't want to go in that direction.
BongMan (sighing at my stupidity): Why didn't you take up engineering? What did your parents say? Chemistry pore ki hobe? ( meaning "whats the point in studying Chemistry?" )
Me (refusing to look up from my book, and not interested in justifying my career choices): Nothing will happen. I won't get a job.
BongMan (finding this strangely funny too. I stopped trying to figure out his sense of humour at this point): Haha. I didnt mean that. I was just curious.
Me (feigning some interest): What do you do?
BongMan: Me?! I work in a bank.
I knew it. Yes. He had to work in a bank.
He went on to talk for a few more minutes about how an engineering degree would have led to a 'sure-shot' job in the IT sector (which incidentally does not require an engineering degree in the first place ) and how he's worried about what his kids would do in the future. At this point, I sank in my seat and buried myself in my book, trying my best to drown his voice out somehow. If I wouldnt have been initiated into the school of Ahimsa by my beloved peace loving parents, I would have slapped him in the least or hurled my shoe at him. But I resisted my violent urges, so much so, that it made it difficult to breathe at one point. I think all that personal struggle with ambivalence was showing, cos he seemed to finally read my vibes and decided to back off, not willing to compromise his personal safety over 'seemingly' harmless travel-chit-chat. But BongMan was not one to give up on adda. He quickly started a parallel conversation with another fellow traveller (who was eagerly listening in with wide-eyed amazement all this while) on the lines of how youngsters these days are not respectful to their elders, the entire generation going to the dogs, and how it will adversely affect the growth of the Nation, and so on.
I had never been happier.
(to be continued....)
Excerpts from my travel journal :
- I am a really quiet traveller by nature (only when travelling alone ofcourse). I stare outside the window, read a book like nobody's business and mostly keep to myself. I'm not antisocial. Far from it. Some might even call me garrulous. But I'm not your typical chatting-up strangers-on-the-train kind of guy. In the name of social courtesy, all I can ever manage to say is a half-baked Hello, which almost always comes with an awkward pursed-lip smile. I've tried replicating that in front of the mirror a couple of times, and it looks hideous to say the least, the best I-have-no-intention-of-talking-to-you smile that anyone can come up with ( Ya. Its an achievement. Let's see you do it! Ha! ). But somehow, most Bong travel companions I have had in my life don't seem to be able to read it well. Maybe they're just too social for my liking or plain daft (The latter sounds more believable.) Here's a typical exchange with my fellow Bong Indian Railways travel mate :
BongMan (tugging furiously at my duffel bag trying to fit one of his five suitcases, under the seat, which by every estimate won't fit into that tiny space; yelling): Who's bag is this?!!
Me: It's mine. (Duh!)
BongMan (an immediate lowering of voice, embarrased): Oh. It's yours? Sorry. I was actually trying to fit my suitcase under there, and was wondering who's bag this is. (Stating the obvious.)
Me: It's okay. (Hideous fake smile in place. Gawd! How do I do it? *Applause*)
BongMan (still struggling to find place for his humongous suitcases): Excuse me. If you don't mind, could you shift your bag a little to the right? I can squeeze my bag in easily then.
Me (visibly irritated with the mild accusatory tone): There's no space to the right. I'm sorry. I can't shift it further.
BongMan seemed almost offended at my lack of extending any sort of help. Well, in my defense, I was travelling alone. With one duffel bag. Inconveniencing no one. Reading an extremely interesting book. And was in no mood to wrestle with unnecessary large pieces of luggage belonging to someone else. His luggage. His problem. And trying to fit things that were obviously larger than the spaces meant to store them was not my ideal pass time. However, BongMan's incessant grunts and frantic efforts melted me a little and I offered to keep my bag in the top bunk, much to my own inconvenience. Blame my mother for giving me a weak heart!
BongMan's face lit up at my suggestion and he thanked me profusely. Note how he did not bother to ask if it would be inconvenient for me. Even for courtesy's sake. Selfish prick!
Anyway, I thought this brief annoying exchange would be the end of it. I guess I spoke too soon. The moment the train made its first chugging sound, BongMan plunged into business with gusto. The business of getting acquainted with his unfortunate fellow traveller. With shoes off, smelly feet on the seat, grabbing his pillow, and with curiosity brimming in his eyes, he started with his volley of questions:
BongMan: So where're you going?
Me (vowing to be largely monosyllabic): Calcutta.
BongMan (finding this very funny): Me too. Haha. What a coincidence!
Being from the same city made us brothers of some sort I believe. Hence the excitement.
BongMan: So where do you live?
Me (being my antisocial best): Calcutta.
BongMan (finding this funny too): Where in Calcutta?
Me: New Alipore.
BongMan (obviously unaware of the lack-of-counter-questions-meaning-no-interest-in-making-conversation theory): Oh. Bhery close. I live in Behala. (unperturbed by my lack of enthusiasm continues) What do you do in Delhi? Do you work there?
Me: No. I study.
BongMan (not giving up just yet): What do you study? Computer engineering? Medical?
Me: No. Chemistry.
BongMan (convinced that I'm an underachiever): Oh! (pity in place) Din't get through the engineering or medical exams, did you?
Me (wishing I could be invisible): No. I made it through to a few engineering schools. But I didn't want to go in that direction.
BongMan (sighing at my stupidity): Why didn't you take up engineering? What did your parents say? Chemistry pore ki hobe? ( meaning "whats the point in studying Chemistry?" )
Me (refusing to look up from my book, and not interested in justifying my career choices): Nothing will happen. I won't get a job.
BongMan (finding this strangely funny too. I stopped trying to figure out his sense of humour at this point): Haha. I didnt mean that. I was just curious.
Me (feigning some interest): What do you do?
BongMan: Me?! I work in a bank.
I knew it. Yes. He had to work in a bank.
He went on to talk for a few more minutes about how an engineering degree would have led to a 'sure-shot' job in the IT sector (which incidentally does not require an engineering degree in the first place ) and how he's worried about what his kids would do in the future. At this point, I sank in my seat and buried myself in my book, trying my best to drown his voice out somehow. If I wouldnt have been initiated into the school of Ahimsa by my beloved peace loving parents, I would have slapped him in the least or hurled my shoe at him. But I resisted my violent urges, so much so, that it made it difficult to breathe at one point. I think all that personal struggle with ambivalence was showing, cos he seemed to finally read my vibes and decided to back off, not willing to compromise his personal safety over 'seemingly' harmless travel-chit-chat. But BongMan was not one to give up on adda. He quickly started a parallel conversation with another fellow traveller (who was eagerly listening in with wide-eyed amazement all this while) on the lines of how youngsters these days are not respectful to their elders, the entire generation going to the dogs, and how it will adversely affect the growth of the Nation, and so on.
I had never been happier.
(to be continued....)
