[BITList] Fw: Fwd: Reminiscing about Calcutta...

[John Davison]

----- Forwarded Message -----
From: John Davison <davison.g at xtra..co.nz>
To: "BIship at yahoogroups.com" <BIship at yahoogroups.com> 
Sent: Thursday, 22 August 2013 9:12 AM
Subject: Fw: Fwd: Reminiscing about Calcutta...



Pardon iF A BIT OFF TOPIC M BUT IN VIEW OF PICS OF SHIPS IN PORT , AND AS I FONDLY RECALL NAMES LIKE BROKLEBANDS , ELLERMANS , BANK LINE , AMERICAN MAIL LINE , INDIA STEAM , SCINDIA , GREAT EASTERN , ASIATIC , STEEL LINE AND OTHERS ETC M HERE IS SOME OF THE SOCIAL LIFE , I WAS LAST THERE IN 2003 , BIG CHANGES OF COURSE BUT THE SOUL OF CALCUTTA STILL LIVED ON !!!


I thought you may enjoy this...
 SALAAMS 

JOHN







  















Another paean to the Calcutta that was.










  

Life in Calcutta in the Seventies
- Sarabjit Singh
<http://www.chillibreeze.com/articles/life-in-Calcutta.asp#a> 

  





Tees Saal Baad, thirty years later, is as good a time to reminisce as any, I
guess. Nostalgia strikes especially in the company of old buddies or when
the drinking gets heavy. There is to it a bitter-sweetness, much like a
hospitalization where the attending nurse resembles Ivana Trump. The spirit
and the step become lighter and the eye mistier in the full knowledge that
the good old days will never return.


It was in Calcutta, now rechristened as Kolkata, in the early 70s that I
started my career as a young Boxwallah. In the executive world, much like
the rest of India, British influence was waning. The India Tobaccos and the
ICIs, the Dunlops and the Metal Boxes still had expatriate chieftains. 


The winds of liberalization were yet to blow, although the Minoo Masanis,
the Nani Palkhiwalas and the Piloo Modys never failed to have a dig at the
pseudo-protectionists The government of the time suffered from severe
paranoia. There was a deep fear that the country's independence would be
jeopardized if foreign companies were allowed to grow. Production capacities
of such organizations were pegged and penalties imposed if these were
exceeded. In fact, there were times when in order to hide high profits, the
books would be closed days before the year-end.
 
These factors in the external environment ensured low competitive pressures.
Consequently there were few, if any, shooting stars on the firmament. Most
young executives plodded along, knowing that promotions would come not from
hard work and spectacular results, but from retirements or the odd heart
attack. There was therefore all the time in the world to enjoy the good life
and not worry overly on the career front.


As all hard-core Calcuttans will swear, it was possible then and probably is
now, to rise above the squalor and the filth, the teeming hordes, the
traffic jams and the unbelievably poor civic amenities, to a finer
sensibility. There was a spirit and bonhomie that kept the city from dying.
There was also an ethos, which ensured that a good time could be had
regardless of the size of one's wallet. 


Calcutta had its problems but it also had its compensations - its rich club
life being one. Very few cities can offer a greater variety. 


For sports lovers there was a Rackets Club for Squash, a Cricket and
Football Club for those as well as the more exotic games of Rugby and Cycle
Polo; there was a Tennis Club which boasted of members who had played in the
Davis Cup; a Golf Club with over seventy water hazards and a Swimming Club.
Indians were barred from membership of this institution till, in a
well-publicized incident, a Minister of the State Government dove into the
pool, dhoti and supporters and all, to signal the end of an era. 


There was the Tolly Club where one could, in theory at least, ride a horse
between golf shots.


Then there were social clubs like the Punjab Club, which catered to a
primarily Punjabi clientele whose major activities were eating, drinking,
playing cards and flashing diamonds. 


The Saturday Club was more cosmopolitan while the Ordnance Club and the
Officers Institute at Fort William played host to Army officers who danced
nearly as stiffly as they marched. The Dalhousie Institute and the Rangers
Club were enlivened by the carefree, happy-go-lucky spirit of Calcutta's
rapidly declining Anglo-Indian population.


The staid Bengal Club and the Calcutta Club epitomized the true culture of
the Brown Sahib. The list of clubs was quite endless and an enterprising
young Boxwallah could ensure year-round free membership by participating in
the various Merchants Cup tournaments. These tournaments were open to
mercantile firms and drew many a pot-bellied senior executive onto the court
or playground.


Each club had its own particular charm. The atmosphere at the Calcutta
Cricket and Football Club Bar was akin to an English pub. The smoke and
alcohol-filled evenings usually ended up with some lusty singing of bawdy
songs. 'Diana, Diana, show us your legs, a yard above the knee' would be
belted out by a dozen raucous voices. The bartender's name was BI - short
form for British India. 


The Royal Calcutta Golf Club served the juiciest steaks in town, which
washed down with a bottle of beer after a golf game was great value for
money. You couldn't have a better meal. 


The Rackets Club answered the prayers of perspiring squash players in the
form of a bartender called Abdul, who specialized in mixing Nimbu Panis,
fresh lime juice, which were arguably the best in the city.


Clubs apart, there were other small touches, which gave life in Calcutta a
flavor different from any other city. Christmas Week for instance meant a
huge Santa Claus at the head of Park Street. The street itself would be lit
up from end to end by one of the lighting companies. Small bands equipped
with trumpets and drums would stand outside the festooned restaurants. For a
small tip they would play any of the old favourites - Elvis or the Beatles,
Pat Boone or Paul Anka while their benefactors swayed (or was it tottered)
and hummed along.


Saturday nights meant Louis Banks, Braz Gonsalves, Pam Crain or Usha Iyer
live at Trincas or the Blue Fox on Park Street. If one was feeling
adventurous, there was Isaiah's Bar on Free School Street for a different
kind of action.


Sunday mornings were reserved for jam sessions at Firpos where cocktail
sausages would be served gratis with the beer. It is a sign of the times,
literally and figuratively, that restaurants today serve peanuts.


Among the other options was that of watching a late-night movie at the
Globe, Elite, or one of the other English movie theatres in Central
Calcutta. These had been converted from drama theatres and still bore
vestiges of their former roles with their quaint balconies and bars. One
could grab a quick beer before proceeding to Nizam's Restaurant for their
mouth-watering Kathi Rolls. The chicken, mutton, egg or aloo rolls or
combinations thereof, were a great food attraction. Calcutta's essentially
egalitarian character revealed itself in the fact that the well-heeled in
their cars as well as the not-so-well-off in hand-pulled rickshaws would all
descend on this institution. Sometimes, you could come across a slim,
fiftyish man who would serenade your sweetheart with old love songs while
drumming with his fingers on the bonnet of your car.



I wonder how much things have changed in these thirty years? Have the
pressures of modern-day existence converted young executives into little
more than automatons programmed to deliver? Do young men still step onto
soggy fields to play five-a-side football by floodlight and emerge bruised
and mud-caked? Or are they content doing eyeball exercises in front of the
TV? 


I wonder if Diana is still showing her legs and whether there is any basis
for comparing the lives of today's young executives and ours.. 


We won't know, will we, till some Japanese corporation invents the Time
Machine. Considering that Man has already reached the Moon, can this be far
behind? H G Wells would certainly be pleased.
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