Come festive season and a new Yuletide spirit casts its spell over Homo sapiens every year. A spirit of outwardly cheerfulness and goodwill prevails. Fresh rays of hope penetrate through the dense clouds of gloom. Concerns of eking out a living fade away, giving way to a transient resurgence of happiness. Relationships get nurtured afresh. Networking concerns reign supreme.
Kolkata, the erstwhile second city of the British empire, is no exception. For those enlightened souls who are already well-versed in the seasonal predicament that plagues the illustrious Park Street in Kolkata, no further elucidation is necessary. On the brightly lit street, one is apt to see spirited pedestrians deftly trying to avoid colliding with the ones coming from the opposite side, thereby re-affirming Nature’s law that a given spot on a given plane shall at a given moment of time be occupied by only one body. One can spot hassled drivers manoeuvring shimmering limousines as well as old jalopies which are crawling along at a speed which would make a tortoise glance at them in a supercilious manner.
In brightly lit departmental stores, befuddled customers can be seen getting lured by hefty but deceptive discounts. One may feel a sense of pity for the hassled husbands hidden behind a huge pile of shiny gift packets dutifully following their wives to the nearest billing counter. Lobby managers in hotels and restaurants can be seen perspiring, trying to manage the queue of weary shoppers pouring in, looking for something to put down the hatch.
Those peddling street foods of all kinds can be seen doing brisk business. Amidst all the razzmatazz, one can see quite a few pavement book sellers sit idly, having a forlorn look in their brooding eyes, as if contemplating the divine. Kolkata may pride itself on being a city of intellectuals but perhaps there are times when the festive cheer takes over the collective spirit of its inhabitants, suppressing their innate yearning for intellectual upliftment.
As opposed to the infernal din on Park Street, the ambience inside the hallowed establishment known as ‘Kwality’ was serene and cosy. If the government ever instituted an award for a successful and victorious entry into the equivalent of the Drones Club of Kolkata, its first claimants would surely be the five brave souls who could make it on the occasion.
Those turned up included a prominent beak who, had she been cast as Aunt Dahlia in one of Plum’s theatre adaptations, would have been spectacularly popular, a school principal in the mould of Rev. Aubrey Upjohn, a senior educationist in the realm of milk of human kindness, an IT expert who is devoted to his family as much as Bingo Little happens to be, and yours truly.
All those present were punctual, jovial, and exhibited a proclivity for rolling on the floor in fits of laughter (figuratively, of course). The gleeful yelps emanating from them often made other patrons seated on the nearby tables raise their eyebrows a quarter of an inch. Their indulgences were not limited to the culinary delights of Darjeeling tea and delectable fish fingers. Their minds were nourished by scintillating conversations and an abundance of references to literary treasures dished out not only by Plum but also by many others. Movies steeped in a Wodehousean spirit, or the ones inspired by his works, came up for discussion.
They spoke of Wodehouse and his influence on all of them. The challenges of translating his works were discussed. Surprise was expressed when one spoke of some creatures who do not like him, primarily owing to the language being a bit dated and many plots appearing to be copy-and-paste jobs. Information about the Bengali film Rajat Jayanti directed by Pramathesh Barua, which was an adaptation of Money for Nothing, was shared. Sakher Chor by Uttam Kumar, which bears a significant resemblance to A Gentleman of Leisure was mentioned.
The beak spoke with great enthusiasm about the famed Bengali cuisine and about her meetings with other fans located in Bengaluru and Delhi. The eminent educationist shared the kind of work he does to uplift the intellect level of his students at one of the premier institutes of management in India. The principal, who has just published a book of short stories, spoke briefly of challenges of taming lions and lionesses in our liberal times. Bingo Little gave a detailed account of works in Bengali literature and movies which happen to be inspired by Plum.
They listened with some interest to a brief account of my recent pilgrimage to Dulwich College. This made them recall another famous alumnus of that esteemed institution, Raymond Chandler, which took them to Humphry Bogart and Philip Marlow.
Suffice it to say that it was a feast of Reason and flow of Soul which was never punctuated by intervals of uncomfortable silences which arise when all the members are meeting each other for the first time.
Who says that joy cometh only in the morning? It also comes in the evening, especially if it is an occasion when fans of Plum meet, that too in a metropolis which is often alluded to as the City of Joy.
(Inputs from Ms Indrani Ganguly and Mr Suryamouli Datta are gratefully acknowledged.)
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