When I left you hanging in Part 1, I was approaching the departure gate at Calcutta airport. I was headed out on the flight to Kathmandu, Nepal. I had no passport or any other form of photo id. In short nothing to prove I was who I said I was. The gate…
So there we were, barely successful business owners. Tea had given us a hefty start up push <read about it here>, Dettol and Cherry Blossom had given us wings, so when the cigarette company called we were reasonably assured we knew what the hell we were doing. Within a couple of years, a…
Introduction This is the story of a peeper, a peeping tom who chose us as a subject of study. Read on! A small ground floor flat (apartment, if American) is what we loved in and lived in. As a newly married couple in our mid-twenties, we both worked for "computer companies" where we…
(This is the story behind the reference to tea in this earlier chapter of the memoirs.) The phone rang as I started shutting the front door behind me. In one of those momentous decisions that define history I overrode my initial inclination to continue on my way out and stepped back in and picked…
In response to the story, The Chemistry of Love, the curly haired, resourceful friend of the Candy Floss Bangalan, provided her perspective of the story. I am reproducing it here as a commentary to the original story. Here it comes - I have edited it slightly to bring it up to my exacting…
Science fairs for high schoolers were an annual affair. A large area with a perimeter of school stalls showing off hand-made experiments with charts on the walls, manned by eager young scientists, also contained a refreshment area. It was great place to meet students from other schools. I stood there chatting with a…
Ashok found Meena fascinating. She, Meena, liked Jethro Tull. Ashok’s tastes were more Donna Summer’s gasping, moaning, sex-drenched disco. But Meena was friendly, liked Ashok’s company and a movie or two together ensued. One day, I was asked if I wanted to accompany them, in my usual role of chaperone for the Other…
In the early summer of the following year (following the on-time, on-budget arrival of Baby #1, (chronicled in this post) financial conditions hadn't really improved. A meager income was being gleaned by teaching. My wife and I took up part-time lectureships at various schools that were mushrooming everywhere. Schools that gave out diplomas…
So this is it then. The end of civilization as we know it. The thin edge of the wedge. The most unkindest cut of all. Remember that song we used to play, Sam? It's almost over. The end of the world is nigh. There was a time when I lived in Calcutta (Kolkata,…
Schools, good ones, were hard to come by in Calcutta. Boys had a choice of St. Xavier's, La Martiniere for Boys, the recently rejuvenated and rising fast in the ranking St. James and my own school, Don Boso Park Circus, DBPC for short. Admissions were competitive and parents stressed over the best ways…