The London Times vol. 1

The nature of my work makes me travel...to places far and away. Last year, I had to journey to that little island of the United Kingdom of England and Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland where I set up base for a little more than eight months.

Being a home-bred 'bong' having grown up on stories of 'bilet' (non-bongs..please do look up these words in a dictionary. In case you do not find them in a dictionary, please contact your nearest bong; and by this I do not mean your resident apparatus for consumption of certain "stimulants"), I was subjected to a flurry of experiences which ranged from the predictable to the totally unexpected.

My methods of 'literary torture' in the coming months shall, from time to time include some of these experiences. So don't say I didn't warn you!!

The following is an article I had written for a newsletter at my place of work...

The London Times vol. 1

I remember my very first day in London...wet, gloomy, cold. “Luvly weathah, init mite?” quipped my ‘cabbie’. After deciphering the ‘code’ that turned out to be “Lovely weather, isn’t it mate?” I managed a faint smile, having endured a nineteen hour journey from home via two flights.

Shivering in my cotton shirt and cursing myself for not wearing a jacket, I hopped onto the pink monstrosity that stood in front of me (and here I was, thinking all London cabs were black!) After a short ride I found myself in front of a Victorian building on a picture-perfect avenue in Kensington that was to be my home for the next eight months. Picture-perfect, except for the rain which had now become a veritable downpour!

My colleague, AB who had had to endure my company along with the long flights and the weather, paid off the cabbie, who somehow didn’t look too pleased with us. (It was sometime later that we discovered the custom of tipping taxi drivers here in Her Majesty’s land!)

We soon came to know that our friend from back home, AD, was also a resident in the same building. AD still remembers that fateful day when he found his new next-door neighbour to be ‘yours truly’ rather than that gorgeous supermodel he had always expected! The expression on his face was priceless!

One always apprehends the ‘jet lag’ accompanied with long-distance flights and trust me, no-one can prepare for it. (Despite whatever household remedies one may prescribe!) I personally believe that it’s not the crossing of time zones but the incredibly ‘comfortable’ seats that your carrier offers you that are to blame! I mean, how anyone could be expected to relax in a chair which feels like having been made out of wooden rulers bound by cloth is beyond me!

Anyhow, a relaxing shower later (which managed to bring the drumbeats inside my head to a nice, slow rhythm), the five of us ventured out into the streets of London looking for a means to satisfy that primal need of Man...Hunger! Before I proceed, the ‘five’ of us included AB, AD, SK from our Delhi office, Mrs. SK and I. Led by AD, who was the veteran among us; we managed to gather enough ingredients that would last us a week or so.

The walk to this supermarket from our house was about five minutes. But, thanks to me, it turned out to be fifteen. Let me mention here, that one of my two weaknesses (the other being food) is trendy cars. I was not prepared for the fact that the streets of the ‘Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea’ would be the setting for most automobile magazines! Every time, a Porsche or a Ferrari would zoom by, I would stand there with an expression of a toddler being locked in a room filled with cotton candy! My friends soon realised that the journey would be much quicker if they carried on without me and well, they did so (carry on that is).

That evening, we had an invitation at a restaurant called ‘Chowki’. It was some-what of an impromptu get-together as our boss was in town. It was also the day when we got our first glimpse of the infamous ‘Piccadilly Circus’. Bright lights, big crowds and rickshaws, no wonder, people compared Kolkata to London!

At Chowki (an Indian restaurant, if you had not guessed already) we met more of our ‘Dada’s from back home. The food was great, but it was the conversation that rocked! I could never have imagined that we would be having a typical Bengali ‘adda’ in a restaurant in London (the so-called birthplace of the ‘stiff upper lip’)!!

After finishing off an entire generation of sheep and an entire yard of grapes, we headed back to our apartments buzzing with excitement (or maybe it was the wine). Pretty exhausted by now, all of us went to bed (in their irrespective bedrooms).

We were starting work from the next day and the butterflies were aflutter! But, the rains had stopped and ‘tomorrow’ was looking good!!

Nota Bene: Due to possible legal ramifications, names have not been used.