Kolkata Trip 2013 - Saturday, October 5th

It was Ranji’s suggestion that I revive my writing by documenting our fortnight-long trip to Kolkata. I love going to Kolkata during the Durga Puja as I feel that is the only time the city has some life and energy, the only time it feels like people are busy and purposeful.  It is almost as if the people try to make up for the city’s various shortcomings by preparing beautiful pandals and attractive idols within them. Walking around seeing the sights while gorging on the numerous food items prepared in the roadside stalls using oil rich in trans-fat and conditions far from hygienic seem to give a high like most illicit pleasures. For once, so, I have decided to not just listen to Ranji but also act upon her suggestion.

SATURDAY, October 5^th

It was around 4:30 a.m. when I woke up first, but it wasn’t until 5:55 a.m. that I decided there was no point in me twisting and turning, trying to wake Ranji up. I prepared a pot of spiced tea and was enjoying it at a leisurely pace before the realization that I hadn’t packed a single item of clothing propelled Ranji out of the bed. With her up, it wasn’t long before my position in front of the TV was changed to in front of an empty suitcase.

Ranji had packed a suitcase with her clothes on October 2^nd, including some old clothes she wanted to give to the maid at my in-laws’ house. One look with my expert eyes was enough for me to unpack everything and repack them in my own manner.  It satisfied me but I don’t think it made any serious difference to the final outcome.

My own suitcase was done within minutes. I zeroed in on the clothes I was carrying without much of a difficulty. The only item needing some deliberation was a T-Shirt with “I’ve graduated from Bar Code to Beer Code” printed on it because of how Ranji’s parents looked at alcohol consumption (but we decided to chance it).

Some of other items, though, was a challenge.  We were carrying a rolling pin and base made of marble as well as few bottles of pickle.  We weren’t very sure whether the threat of them breaking was higher than that of the oil spilling on to our clothes. Either way, the expectation was for us to get the stuff across, and it was always going to be better for all if we got those across, even in broken and/or spilled condition than to leave them behind.  We were to regret our decision later, in a way we did not exactly expect.

Transport to the airport was not a worry because Praveen volunteered to chauffer us. He came on time, along with Namrata and Shlokaa, and we started off from Vignan Nagar at 4:00 p.m.  It was 5:30 by the time we reached the airport, later than we expected.  The delay made us scrap my initial idea of having some snacks and coffee at Café Coffee Day outside the airport.

For once, there was no queue either to enter the airport or at the IndiGo counter. The lady at the counter was not harried, had a pleasant smile, and even seemed happy we chose IndiGo. Ranji and I felt so happy, but it was too good to last. Ignorance hurts all of us at some point, and ours regarding the reduction in maximum weight of check-in luggage from 20 kilos to 15 per person was to hurt us then - we exceeded the check-in luggage weight by 10 kilos and cabin luggage by 4!  She continued to sport a smile when she told us that there could be no compromise in the cabin luggage but told us she would try and be sympathetic towards the plight of our check-in luggage.

Ranji suggested chucking some of the clothes in the dust-bin; instead, I chucked her suggestion into it. By this time, in addition to the shame I was feeling in displaying the intimate and fairly plain secrets of my wardrobe to the entire population inside the airport, Ranji’s plaintive tones was beginning to get on to my nerves. Of course, the irritation was mainly towards myself for not remembering the reduction in maximum limit for luggage, and each time she complained, it seemed to make it worse. Another thing that hurt was the fact that I had laughed at my cousin 12-13 years back when he faced the same predicament for trying to carry an entire grocery store while flying to China, and history was repeating itself with me in the tragic lead role. In the end, we managed to shift some more clothes to the check-in luggage from the cabin luggage and got one of the elephants that came for the Dusshera celebrations to the stand on top of the bag while the two of us closed it.  While we could not avoid the check-in luggage exceeding the limit, we ensured the cabin luggage remained within, checked everything in (after paying an additional Rs. 3000) and collected our boarding passes.

The additional expense seemingly killed Ranji’s appetite, but I insisted on having some snacks.  She would thank me later once we were aboard the IndiGo flight.  In an attempt to make profits without hiking the fares too much, IndiGo seems to be charging even for drinking water! They surely must have made a decent profit from the poor guy who was sitting in front of Ranji. I wasn’t sure about his grasp of English, but the air hostess was pretty with a sweet smile, and she made quite a sale by getting the guy to buy Coke and Chicken Sandwich!

Speaking about the crew, they were one of the most interesting ones I’ve ever seen.  They differed in their size, their age (at least from the looks of it), and made it a point to make every announcement as unclear as possible. Of course, the Captain was very clear, but he only used the system each time he had to cough. At least, he flew the plane better, and we landed at the Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose International Airport on time.

Deplaning, we both were in for a pleasant shock.  In fact, it seemed as if we had gotten down at a different airport.  I mean, this looked like an airport, not like a bus-stand where airplanes landed.  There was no familiar pan- or ghutka-powered spit marks or the constant smell of urine.  It wasn’t until we had collected our baggage that we knew for sure we had indeed landed in Kolkata.

Ranji had gone to the restroom, and she came out from there in fits of giggles.  Apparently, one member of the cleaning staff inside the restroom was cursing a lady who had used the restroom earlier.  Despite she telling the lady to not squat on the floor, she was claiming that the lady did squat on the floor and then had the audacity to refuse that she did anything like that!  She even wondered aloud how someone who couldn’t use the western-style toilet could be flying in an airplane. Ranji and I were happy the lady did not attempt the same when we were flying.

After the initial surprise of seeing a proper airport in Kolkata, we were in for yet another one once we stepped out. The taxi that we had booked to ferry us to Ranji’s parents’ house in Behala was not Kolkata’s signature Ambassador; it was a brand-new Volkwagen Vento! Ranji and I exchanged glances, obviously impressed.  I even wondered aloud if Kolkata was indeed changing and felt a touch of sadness for the disappearing old-world charm. I realized that my sadness was misplaced but it wasn’t until the next day morning.