There are
some things in this world that just cannot be described to you. You need to put
yourself in the situation and drink it all in, much like what Bono (of U2) said
in the song “Walk On”.
“You’re
packing a suitcase for a place,None of us
has been,A place that
has to be believed, to be seen”
The thing is
I had such an experience yesterday. We had a dinner invitation at one of my
father’s friends’ house; Prabir jatha as I call him. His wife Subha Jethima is
an awesome cook. Calling this person a friend would be an understatement, because
him and dad are very close, having attended college together. They’ve basically
seen me grow up and are like family to me. We were also joined by a couple from the
upstairs flat who brought with them jokes, an iPhone and biriyani.
We have
moved by the way, quite a distance from our house in Salt Lake, to Sherwood
Estate, which as it happens is close to where the aforementioned friend of Dad’s
stays. This has worked out for me. Take yesterday for example- muffin platter
the moment I sat down!
A word about
Subha Jehima’s cooking would be an insult, so I will throw in an entire
paragraph. Moong dal of just the right consistency, dhokar dalna, as good as meat, and
mutton. That mutton in itself deserves a Mahabharat-esque epic written about
it. Permit me again to quote- “soft and warm, continuing” would describe it.
The meat was soft, it was warm on the tongue and the helpings were continuing!
But here’s
the crazy part. Prabir jatha suddenly announced he wanted ice cream. It was
pushing midnight. We were yet to sample Jethima’s desserts. All of us at the
table immediately sat up and began to plan what to do. We decided to take a
drive and find ice cream, by hook or by crook. My parents went off home, so it
was me Jethu, Jethima and the people from upstairs who trooped off in a car on
our noble and delicious quest.
This was
perhaps the second time I had been out for a drive this late. We crossed into
Tollygunge, which resembled a ghost town. All we saw were some flashing signals
and a cop here and there. From there, we headed to Jadavpur. Let me tell you
that crossing Jadavpur University at 1.15 AM, staring out for open ice cream
shops through a window conveniently misted over by AC fog is an experience. I
lack the word power to describe exactly how that drive was, apart from
unforgettable. It was sort of hard to believe that in just a few hours these
intersections would be crawling with people and drivers in a perennial hurry
would be honking or speaking in a colourful fashion. It seemed as though the
city was recuperating.
Somehow, I
get this feeling now in retrospect that there are some things that even non
living things have to say to us. Or that could be the budding engineer in me
speaking. Either way, chalk one up on the surreal experience index I will. We
didn’t find the ice cream by the way, but we will one day!
The Bilge Master
