A tiptoed comeback...

Daughter is back in Calcutta for her college after spending the last 6 years of school at Boarding in Pune and Bangalore. Major cultural change for her – from the protected environment of Krishnamurty Foundation (KFI) Schools to a basic (‘pati’ – as we would say in Bengali) Government College – though she seems to be having a ball with all her new found independence. Travelling on packed Metro-trains and auto-rickshaws or ‘bussing’ it across the city for “outdoors” – are thrills she is just beginning to discover and the charm hasn’t worn off yet. Then having “lemon tea” in plastic cups (that have replaced the earthen “bhaars” of our times) and ghugni by the road side are another level of education.

There are different dynamics playing at home between the mother and daughter – sharply contrasted with my recollections of the father-son tensions of my late adolescence and early youth. That both are undergoing hormonal changes of their respective ages don't help matters surely.

I am going through my umpteenth bout of professional ‘burn-out’ and the idea of retirement teases as seductively as ever. But, a cursory look at the Bank Statements and Credit Card Bills is enough to shatter any idle reverie – and one shudders at the thought of the unpaid Home Loan EMI like hearing the sound of crash on Dalal Street.  Getting out of Calcutta remains my biggest challenge. The city sends me into throes of despair. All the Prozac in the world can’t cure me of the depression that Calcutta brings over me.

So, the best I could do for the time being was take another one of our standard therapeutic break in the Nilgiris, as we have been doing for years - whenever the blues become unbearable. This was a trip of sinful laziness – with the spouse’ leg impaired by a medical condition (synovitis) and my sagging spirits badly needing to be propped up by some real stuff (Beefeater Gin in the afternoons and Glenlivet in the evenings – to be precise). Had a lifetime’s quota of fresh cream – with an assortment of pies and pastries – as fitting finale to loads of red meet (no rubbery chicken or the tasteless scavenger Bassa for me, please). Coonoor Avocados and Acres Wild Cheeses (from Mansoor Khan’s farm)  were at the healthier end of the food-chain. To hell with Cholesterol and Diabetes !!

Read this review of ShovonChowdhury’s maiden novel  The Competent Authority. Promises to be a good read. Knew Shovon briefly – when he was in advertising (Bates-Clarion, Delhi). Good to know he has made this successful transition to writing. Looking forward to the book.

Coonoor

Spent a lovely week in Coonoor last month. It’s without a doubt our favourite hill station. The weather is just right -  never too cold - and it has little attraction for tourists other than the Sim’s Park for it to get over-crowded. We love  the Wellington Gymkhana.  Though the food , over the years, has become slightly indifferent and the service a bit variable – the view from the sit-out of the cottages , of the tea gardens and the golf course, makes up for everything.  For us it’s usually five days of doing nothing  - not even  Golf - except for long walks  and the mandatory visits to Bakers’ Junction in the evenings to pick up bread, locally made cheese (Gray’s Hill and Acres Wild) and Pomelo Marmalade.

The problem with Calcutta is the lack of getaways. It’s one more reason to miss Mumbai – with Goa just a handshake away or even Khandala, Pune and Mahabaleshwar at striking distance Delhi, Bangalore, Chennai all have more than their  fair share of places for short breaks.  It’s a pity though because very few states are blessed with such range of vista as West Bengal. Mamata Banerjee points out, for once got it correct (given her fantastic sense of Geography.  Remember her classic “Bengal is the gateway to the countries of the North East” and “Bangladesh, which is the border of Pakistan”? ).  West Bengal is endowed with natural bounty – from the Himalayas at one end to the Bay of Bengal on the other, traversing through forests, rivers and many heritage sites. But, the woeful infrastructure doesn’t offer many options for a decent holiday.  Especially after Darjeeling has gone out of bounds.,  a Bengali  traveling to the Nilgiris to enjoy the tea gardens may  not  be as New Castlenian (if one were to coin a term) as it may sound.  Today, Bangkok, Phuket and Langkawi (and even Kunming in China) have emerged as popular holiday destinations for Bengalis and Calcuttans thanks to ‘low-cost’ airlines and budget hotels.

On returning from Coonoor what hit me hard is not the steam-bath weather of Calcutta – but the cruel credit card bills. Though, we had the luxury of staying at the Club (which was a saving grace) – what dealt the killer blows are the air-fares and taxi bills.  Which begs the question – why can’t we holiday in India without having to go broke? Or is it that we have become too snooty and spoilt for our own good?

That’s probably being a little unfair. Basically, I don’t think we have got our act right as far as cost equations  go in the tourism and hospitality business  or  for that matter even in airlines ( perhaps,  Indigo  is the only exception).  So, what’s ‘affordable’ is really lousy quality and what is passed off as ‘budget’ is sometimes as steep as a good 4 or 5 star in Thailand or Malaysia.  Even neighbourly Nepal offers far greater value for money for an ordinary tourist. So, no wonder more and more Indians are opting to holiday abroad than at home.

There are exceptions, of course. Home-stays in Kerala have caught on. And, the latest Kerala Tourism ads promote it as a destination for all seasons and to suit all pocket sizes. Goa has something to offer at every price-point from the shoe string to the ultra luxury.  Rajasthan too operates across a range – from the bag-packers to the super rich.  But, that’s about it. In the rest of the country the infrastructure, particularly at the lower end of the spectrum, is worse than pathetic.

Yet, as the poet wrote, we travel the world but overlook the beauty at our own back-yard. As a Bengali, I am ashamed to admit that I have never been to the Sunderbans – partly because till recently no infrastructure worth its name existed there.  I am told now a few Eco Resorts have come up – which aren’t too bad.  Monsoons are certainly not the time to go there. But, I hope to make amends this winter and wade through a few pages of Amitav Ghosh’ The Hungry Tide.