Delhi vs. Calcutta

Delhi: You? Picking a fight with me? What for? I’d win hands down, man! I am the freakin’ capital!

Calcutta: Capital? That toh only now! I was toh there before you!

Delhi: And before that? You bookworm! From time immemorial, every conqueror has desired me! I am the most…

Calcutta: Haan what? The most what? The most unsafe place for women?

Delhi: Err. You can’t think beyond what you read, can you? Ever looked at your dirty lanes? The crowds at Barabazaar? The stench that makes its way into your nose every time you drive on the Eastern By-Pass? It smells of rotten eggs! And oh dear, what narrow lanes, you have!

Calcutta: You toh are totally forgetting your Old Delhi then! Talk of hypocrisy! Huh!

And my narrow lanes are way better than your never-ending stretches!

Delhi: Yes. My never-ending stretches are clean and green. And I am sure no one really minds them. We have these cool looking buses, unlike the tin boxes that ply over your unkempt streets! And haven’t you ‘read’ about the Supreme Court’s decision to introduce more autos?

Calcutta: Your autos take so much money! Where your autos will extort 60 bucks, my autos will only take 6 bucks from each passenger! A little bit of sharing and ‘dada, budge a little’ in the auto can save so much! 

Delhi: Well done, miser! But look at it this way. Passengers who travel in my autos do not have to sit with obnoxious strangers. And dude! Seriously! Your metro? It sucks!

Calcutta: Haan. It was built in 1984, when you couldn’t even spell M-E-T-R-O! So stop bragging about yours! You copy cat! We are truly the cultural capital of India! Our heritage and history is so rich and…

Delhi: Okay. Drop it. You either have not been taking history lessons seriously or you are just pretending to be stupid. Ever heard of Red fort? Qutub Minar? India Gate? They are all mine baby!

Calcutta: Yes, I have. And boka, have you heard of Jorashanko Thakurbari? Kumhartuli? Princep? Victoria Memorial? Does any of it ring a bell?

Delhi: Angrez kii aulaad! And don’t speak in bong with me man! I don’t understand. And by the way do you guys really put aloo in biryani? Seriously? Aloo?

Calcutta: Yes and it tastes way better than yours! And why are you after my aloo? Ever wondered why you put meetha in your Phhuchkaa?

Delhi: It is called Golgappa, okay? And really you can’t beat me as far as food is concerned. Tandoori chicken, kebabs, tikka, qorma and the parathas from parathey waali gali! Even your fish eating public cannot resist.

Calcutta: Oh please. Ever tried our giant size momos? They are way cheaper than your tiny specimens and they taste even better. And none of your chicken preparations can stand up to my eeleesh or my chingri. By the way, don’t ever make fun of my maach eating public. Maach makes bongs intelligent and your Delhites definitely are in dire need of it.

Delhi: Excuse me? True that my people do not sit with books all day long unlike your spectacle wearing, boring lot, but they are definitely intelligent and yes, better looking!

Calcutta: Better looking? Could be but dear dear! When they open their mouths and speak in that despicable accent! Chi chi. No culture. Rich parents buy their chhokraas big cars and they drive at high speed playing such loud music. No respect or consideration at all. Spoilt brats.

Delhi: My people know how to live life.

Calcutta: My people appreciate higher sensibilities.

Delhi: My people dress well. We have Sarojini.

Calcutta: So what? We have New Market.

Delhi: Ghalib lived here.

Calcutta: Don’t get me started on my list of intellectuals.

Delhi: We have the parliament.

Calcutta: Arey man. We have Didi.

And like she says, er pore aar kono kotha hobe na. (Nothing can be said after this)

Wedding Woes

As a child, I hated attending weddings, not that I like doing it any better now. There was something so repulsive about those heavy benarasi saris that aunties brought out from their well-endowed wardrobes and the bright, gold that people decided to put on display. I distinctly remember the smell…something that makes me cringe till date. One of the disadvantages of being a kid is that people drag you to places you don’t want to go to. Hence, I would be dragged to these obnoxious events called weddings. Under compulsion, I found myself a reason to go…food! I went to weddings to gorge on yummy food.

Once I grew up a bit and learnt how to impose my decision, go on hunger strikes, blackmail and the like, I would always manage to convince my parents to let me stay at home. I would put on a good movie, order Chinese food and spend an evening with myself. There were times when my mom would come back home looking all upset because apparently someone had asked her if I was a normal kid and if I had friends and if I had trouble talking to people. She would rebuke me for not being social enough, for being too lost in my own world. There were threats from cousins, ‘you don’t come to my wedding, I won’t come to yours’, to which my answer always was ‘that eventuality shall never arise’.  

After 12^th standard, one of my classmates managed to get married. I attended her wedding and felt completely out of place. Thankfully, I was not close to her and I dismissed it by saying, ‘oh stupid, backward people!’ My parents had always told me that marriage should be the last thing on my to-do list and so it was. The most important thing was to make a life for myself. I have grown up to believe that if I failed to do anything with my life, I would get married. I have other issues as well, obviously, other than my ‘I hate weddings’ agenda. I cannot share my room with anyone…no, not even with the man I love. I have to stay up nights, work or no work. And no, I cannot wake up in the morning to make someone coffee and breakfast. And yes, I like drinking my morning coffee in solitude. I like having the house to myself. I love animals as much as I hate noisy kids. I cannot deal with my own parents, so in-laws are out of question. In short, I am not homely and definitely not the marriageable kinds.

All went well, till after college, one of my closest friends decided to tie the knot. And after that, all my friends ever spoke about was what they would wear at her wedding, what she would wear at her wedding, what she would wear on her wedding night, where she would go on her honey moon and the list goes on. What ate me up though was how things changed. She was no more the person I knew. She was this woman, coy and delicate, who had nothing except her man to talk about. What the hell. I could not even talk to her properly. I had nothing to talk about. We stopped having sleep overs and a girls night out was not the way it used to be. Now everyone would be accompanied by their respective boyfriends/fiancés/ husbands.

I moved out of the city but the wedding onslaught had begun. Friend after friend post on social networking sites their happy wedding pictures. I hear stories about how parents want their daughters to make a special kind of bio data to find a suitable groom. And then I receive these invitations to attend their weddings. I have the best excuse…work and lack of funds. But I realise, it is not about not going to family weddings anymore…these are people my age and it freaks me out. Every time I express my displeasure, I hear the same sympathetic reply, ‘oh don’t worry, you will find someone too’. But I don’t want to find someone. I want things to be as they are.  

Every time I see a close friend getting married, I go into depression. Not because I am not getting married but because I think something bad is happening to them, something that will alter them forever. I have a list of 3 people, and I keep telling them that the day they tie the knot, I will commit suicide out of sheer disappointment. I have no clue why such brilliant people with great careers ahead of them would suddenly want to spoil everything and get married. Being single is fun. Be married, and you are done.  

www.outlookindia.com | Nothing Happened

www.outlookindia.com | Nothing Happened

By Freya Dasgupta