We spent a brief year in the little flat in Lake Gardens. You have met this flat ( apartment, if American ) before. This is the same flat that saw us beat off the Cantankerous Cat. You know also, by now, that we had to contend with Peeping Toms. And, of course there were neighbour. Some were Nosy Neighbours. Other neighbours, though, were quite confused.
Just like we were. We’d moved in with (more…)
It’s funny how words have more than one meaning. It’s funny how that one fact can give rise to some very funny situations. Here is one I remember from an earlier time.
Regular readers will remember that once upon a time I was a young man living in Calcutta. This is a story about a time when, as a 19-year-old, I was serving my 3-year sentence as Articled Clerk to a firm of Chartered Accountants. This was a mandatory service required to be a Chartered Accountant. You had to pass two sets of exams too, the first of which I failed miserably and did not bother to retake. Thus, you’re reading the words of a loser, dropout and quitter, all rolled into one. I prefer to think of it as a providential escape from the humdrum world of accounting to the exciting world of a lion tamer, which is what I became. ( But that’s another story… ) (more…)
I spent 8.5 years in DBPC, or to give it its full name Don Bosco, Park Circus. My last day there was the 17th of March, 1978, and I well remember rushing down the stairs after the last ISC-12 exam, excited at finally finishing with school. But I’ve also never forgotten my first day there.
Just over 4 years ago, I had a nose job. Why, you ask? Wasn’t your old nose good enough for you? The short answer is, No. It wasn’t good enough to perform its primary purpose. From a purely external aesthetic standpoint, it was perfect, or as near as perfect as one could want, but the internals were defective. I wrote about that here.
About 20 years ago, I was sitting with my sister on the terrace of my other sister’s house. In the deepening gloom of the Calcutta evening, she peered at me and said “Why is your right eye smaller than your left eye? Does it feel different?” (more…)
The story starts in the Summer of ’79, actually, when My Beloved Bangalan and I were still unmarried but curious about each other. Mingling with the crowd just outside the Globe Cinema in Calcutta, I felt a tap on my shoulder and a female voice said, “Hi, how are you?”
A sort of weak and desultory conversation followed. I introduced My Beloved Bangalan to the girl who had tapped me on the shoulder. (more…)
Once upon a time there lived an IT guy. He was young, some say he was good-looking. He loved and was loved by a young IT gal. They loved in a small flat on the ground floor of a quiet neighborhood of Calcutta. He was not quite tall and not really of medium height, but somewhere in between. She was of just the right (more…)
In the autumn of 1994 we moved office to a friend’s flat ( apartment, if American ) about 5 minutes walk away from the house. The two rooms and separate entrance allowed us to host the expanded team and have a separate office for me and the Beloved Bangalan. Things had improved a bit since the early struggles!
We’d become more confident with our approach to sales. Over the previous 2 years or so, I’d driven (more…)
The making of glass is a process that I have always enjoyed watching. It is a perfect marriage of process, engineering, manufacturing and art. I love moving parts, I love seeing machines that make things and love thinking about the engineering, logic, software and hardware that makes these factories go. So when the long weekend named after the Queen who was not amused in the plural came along, we headed down to Corning, NY to (more…)
This is the concluding part of the Normandy sub-series within the Punjabi in Paris series. You can, of course, read Part 1 and Part 2. Part 2 has more pictures and even, hold your breath for this one, shaky videos!!
We left Ste Mere Eglise after a late lunch / tea of fries, beer and Coke and drove out towards Omaha beach. Drove down the highway and came to the exit ramp that would take us to St Laurent sur Mer. However, even at this late stage of the day (more…)