Touching Lives, Missing Souls....

I read about this contest...and.. well at first decided not to contest. And practically i am not. Yet i had something to say which might be down rightly rejected by the sponsors. But when you have something to say  and you want people to listen.. why not give a try.

I will come to the point. This is about my personal experience in ' Modern Healthcare' and to be specific with Apollo Hospitals. I will clarify a bit, maligning an esteemed institution is not my intention, just i want to draw the attention to the incidents which happened with me exposing a very bitter facet of life and might happen with anyone can definitely be avoidable and may be then  ' Modern Healthcare' may  ' touch our lives'.

When we knew of my pregnancy five years back...after some ifs and buts we settled on a gynecologist in Apollo Hospitals Delhi through reference by common friends. I must say i was impressed in my early visits (though i never knew my association would be so long and painful)..and apart from the hefty sum to be paid as fees.. i liked almost everything... the ambience, the food at the cafes which me and  husband would invariably munch during our long wait for the doctor.. we didn,t seem to mind we were excited with the baby inside me and staring at fellow patients, some expecting some with tiny infants we didn,t mind initially. We liked the doctor, more or less followed what she said and things went smooth till  the final stage of my pregnancy. She didn,t stress much on  normal delivery and i abstained from doing any particular exercise or classes to aid in delivery. Though today i feel if some exercises really help...dotors should advice and surgery can be avoided. Anyway.. since my baby was ' oblique' with a ' floating head' she advised surgery and we obliged. So there came my daughter..i loved all the attention and care by the hospital stuff. We had taken a two bedded room and the nurses appeared at the ring of a bell. My husband was sitting beside me when they were undergoing surgery and i remember the lovely pediatric holding my daughter, smiling , as she brought her to us. I recall the anesthetist lending me support overall i had a fabulous feeling and wasn,t scared a bit.

After her birth though sometimes i had a tough time communicating with the nurses mostly from Kerala i guess but i liked  the way they took care and helped me in all regards. Post my surgery and long tiring times with a new born, my husband left us at my home town and went for some three months project abroad . Only he didn,t knew the project here he left so incomplete... Back at my home town we were coming to terms with the new one as i began having stomach aches followed by jaundice. Ultrasound.. and i knew of my gall stones and not only that stones have blocked my bile duct causing jaundice. We flew to Delhi immediately.. and before i knew i was again in Apollo Hospitals and my one and half month infant at home.This time without husband around and in the ' general' ward story was a bit different. The doctor obviously was sensitive to my situation and expedited the process. Being a lactating mother at that time i was squeaking and screaming at night with pain...i told the stuff to take me to the children ward since i knew there was a machine to ' express' breast milk there..it seemed hours before they could coordinate a wheel chair , (though i didn,t need one) and since i was all alone at hospital with parents at home with the infant..it seemed hellish. At last i managed to go to the children ward.. but i knew if this was the process.. i got my own machine from home the next day and somehow survived. Then my stomach ache, i didn't know how come there was no doctor at night to help as i cried of pain.. finally i called my doctor at 2 am..lucky that he picked up and instructed the sister. Still shudder at the thought...

Somehow stones in my bile duct could not be removed and they put a stent inside me. i stayed with the stent inside, a month.. with frequent fevers because of the object inside.. several round of antibiotics and my two month infant. Without husband around and the baby her check ups and vaccinations and my follow ups with doctor, small town parents in this huge city..life surely gave a different 'thumbs up' to me...

After a turbulent month, somehow all friends disappeared at that time..or may be i wasn,t loved enough.. and who knows persons with '100' likes in facebook were popular enough...anyway these were or still are negative thoughts..one day again me and Baba set off for Apollo Hospitals again...thrice in three months!!! Surely the hospital was bewitched by me!! ERCP ( the painful process of inserting suction type something through nose and extracting stones) was successful this time and after i shivered and bleeded through my nose doctor gave me this news. Me and my relieved father.. and phone calls from in laws i thought this was the 'end' and i had survived...

But no. I was without food since last night as doctor instructed. Dinner was served to me at night.. I did not meet any doctor post the ERCP process apart from the consultant doctor near elevator while i lied barely conscious  in stretcher . I was in doubt if i was supposed to have food and since i met no doctor.. my father enquired from the nurse and after her consent i had little bit of dinner. I still don,t know whether i was given the food by ' mistake' after anesthesia anyway my hard luck i had huge stomach pain and vomited through out the night and yes could not ' see' any doctor. I had fever in the morning and i think by evening i met my doctor who tried to say all this was ' normal', my body reacting after the process, or that i lay there unattended what was normal anyway i wasn,t sane enough to ponder... and the third night we didn,t know what to do with my father spending two sleepless nights at the easy chair in general ward and clueless how long would i be kept and what treatment i was undergoing...

Finally home.. by that time sisters knew me at the hospital!! Since my veins got blocked due to repeated antibiotics, they had to pierce me again and again. The nurse who was admitted by my side due to typhoid.. how she got up from her bed to aid the sister in piercing my veins... her jovial happy-go-lucky boyfriend. It took a long long time to recover.. may be i never recovered fully, went without solid food for several days, paranoid at another visit to the ' hospita'

I know ' modern healthcare' saved me, being treated in one of the best place in the country.. i got my life. But  the shudders of the whole process...and when i think of the care and attention i got in my two bedded room and should i use the word ' negligence' in the general ward...the doctors cured me all right but is that all the health care industry do.. where as i met the dietitian many times after the caesarian operation advising me about what they would serve when liquid, ' soft' diet, semi solid etc etc me and here as i lay alone nobody had any idea what food i was supposed to have and nor it seemed anybody cared.

Only when i checked the bills later before submitting to the insurance company and i saw the charges labelled  against doctor ' visits' , visits which were invisible to me... may because i did not have an attendant to always take care of..i don,t know really. But consultation charges without consultation.. So many questions.. and yet i was an educated woman with ' insurance' as they would invariably ask..( does having an insurance imply they would retain you and charge you unnecessarily) and had the same thing been in a small place with a woman without financial support would she have survived... Modern Health care has indeed come a long way, taken that ' filthy' ' smelly' stuff from hospitals made them indeed a better place no doubt, almost all things can be cured so is the power of medical science but so many things needs to be done.. lots of love, care for patients of all ' wards' and i know an impossible thing to ask for.. make modern amenities accessible to all... all of us who has a right to live....and yes this has to be an effort by all, the country, the health care industry and us ordinary people who can make a difference..

Musical Musings

If  someone asks me to blog about music...well nobody would ask me to in the first place.. anyway music would be one of the best things to happen in my life. Though i know my knowledge of music is limited and in one of my sulking days would feel had my knowledge of classical music been sound...perhaps i,m missing out  on another world, world of raagas, thumris and tappas.. but so much to my lack of knowledge of sur and taal  couldn,t deter me from loving wholeheartedly the world of Hindi film music.

It began with Ma taking me to theatres to watch the latest Amitabh Bacchan or Rajesh Khanna flick in the small town of Assam we lived then, unable to make out anything then some bleak pictures of the songs reinforced sometimes by broadcasts in radio! And then the God of all Hindi songs programme ' Chitrahaar' on Wednesdays and Saturdays at 8 pm. I never knew love for Chitrahaar and so called contemporary hindi songs to keep up with peers would some day result in a genuine love for music. I remember the little radio my Baba had, and how the little magic box would be mine in his absence and my A, B, C, D of loving music.  Though my love for radio was to keep up with peers, the world of Kishore ,Lata, R.D was mesmerizing...and i remember Ma raising her head from her chores... ' This song .. i really love.. watched the movie' and we would listen to the song together... ' Actually we bunked college and went for this movie..' She would smile.... I would wonder how ' daring' she had been..

From all the Anand Milind, Nadeem Shravan songs i forayed into Kishore Lata duet.. and then with a little sense the poetry of Gulzar, dash of Urdu..then semi classical songs with Manna Dey , began to love the classical song programme which used to come on Mondays...My days were designed by programmes on radio,doing Math assignment or any sort of writing work.. Chhaya Geet , Aap ki Farmayish at night, Phone-in Kalpataru.. mix of Assamese and Hindi songs from Guwahati radio station. Though my mother would take part actively in rebuking in my mad obsession with the ' magic box' along with everyone else but that would not stop her from humming and remarking offhandedly ' I have heard that song "live" from Bhupen Hazarika'..

Somehow i got my first tape recorder in my class twelve..it was left over by aunt as she got a CD player...my happiness simply knew no bounds to be able to listen to the song i wished and not wait for the radio to play.. the first cassette i bought , ' Nikaah and Umrao Jaan' from HMV...the poetry was a discovery for me.. faza bhi hain  jawan jawan, beetein huye lamho, zindagi jab bhi teri bazm mein lati hain hume.. my entry into the word of poetry and ghazals. My next one was ' Khamoshi and Safar'..
Wo shyam, Humne dekhi hain un aankho ki.... i used to listen again and again...for the first time songs transcended into something more than film adaptations but something with a life of their own. My neighbour in my home town thought himself to be a bit of ' Bappi Lahiri' and as i felt later all Bengalis with a love of music have this urge to be a Kishore Kumar clone.. implicit explicit!! Nevertheless he loved music all the same and had a huge collection..i remember listening to Bhupender, Suresh Wadekar.. also from my aunt some Rabindra Sangeet.. i liked that genre too but somehow since exposure was less...my love for this genre did not bloom really as it should have and i have a feeling i missed out on it...

Anyway with time in this day of net and ' downloaded' music.. my first love still remains radio..guess i love the surprise element..FM Gold, Big FM... FM gold still has ghazal based show ( Andaze Bayan) , raag based show and Big 92.7 has this ' Yaadon ka idiot box' i hav begun to like recently.. songs are ordinary though but narrative captivating. In college days i had some short affair with MTV and some western music but short lived since Indian MTv soon moved to Hindi contemporary film music and i had to move on

So many genres unexplored...life  is too short.. i would like to hear more of Rabindra Sangeet, Shyamal Mitra, Hemanta Mukherjee, ghazals of Ghulam Ali , Hindustani Classica, Bhupen ....but am happy with Gulzar and his poetry..Kaifi Azmi.. and the timeless songs together they have woven with the music makers..the ' Bhatiali' ( music of the boatmen) genre of S. D. Burmaan, the timeless creations of Bhupen Hazarika the songs of my land..creators create and mundanes like me rejoice inthese ethereal creations..
Travelling and music i can widely connect.. roads and music...throws life into another realm, another reality, another heaven...

Written for the Musical experience with HP Connected Music India

The 'New's in our life....

Dear Ninni

I don,t know if you are going to understand what i mean or may be if you ever do  you are going to like it.. Just like that some time will be in life where you will be absolutely clueless as to where life is heading.. and if you are really liking wherever it is heading to..

I attended your school orientation programme and was pleased to see the children performing , almost liked your principal,s speech.. and kept wondering would you grow up to be a ' confident' human being from the school as they promised..since i went after my night duty and was a bit drowsy and also my inherent absent mindedness..my thoughts drifted.. This world is very tough Ninni.. no one lets you an inch of space until you fight and get a centimeter of your own. Starting from the road where i am almost an eight month old driver now..where vehicles overtake me from left and right, fellow colleagues term me a ' slow driver' and what i realise no one's going to let you an inch.. on the road, at work and so true of life. Recently we have shifted to Gurgaon from the office quarters we had in Delhi and while i cross the toll gates to Delhi.. you know if one of the toll gates was dysfunctional and by luck  i would get stuck in the wrong queue.. nobody would let you a bit of space knowing very well without them giving way there is absolutely no place to go..So you look at the drivers in the right queue with a pleading helpless look and crawl inch by inch...

Talking of drivers...big car owners or rightly called SUV owners have arrogance recklessness embedded in their veins, similarly cab drivers show same mentality.. and i can classify bus and truck drivers in another head and yes the omnipresent auto drivers always appearing out of nowhere and taking a turn right in front of you.. But you know the ' road' ..the fun part of road is there is space just enough for everyone.. from the dead slow tempos, to the devilish giant buses, from the sleek SUV,s to bicycles and autos..all have their place in the road.. and as i watch the suave cars driving desperately behind bike in one side and auto in the other, honking impatiently breathing down their spine..making their way ahead.. and the funny part auto,bike even bicycle no one,s willing to give up!! Everyone,s in a dead hurry, honking, overtaking, driving zig zag ..and of course there are the ones like me confused , fumbling few but they do exist!!

Well i didn,t intend to write about ' road' and my new explorations..just that i have discovered this part of road a bit late in my life since i started driving only since last year. Coming back to what i intended to tell you, as i was watching your school orientation programme and switched off to a bit ' philosophical' mode .. despite all the promises and good words you all would grow up to be tough human beings tougher than the ones today and you would learn to hold on to your space all right and at the same time know not to give in.. not to give anybody a bit of space... Professionally also when i switch to my 'philosophical' mode i simply wonder about the fierce selfishness clouding the workplace, we work together but stay almost friendless, willing to go any length to get the best deal and all these in a public sector environment!! Personally i find myself  having you and your father as family, parents back there in home town and yet i wonder how come i have become so friendless in life.. where have all the friends vanished to.. The hosts of ' friends' from schools and colleges and sometimes friends at work place.. once the time is over.. you are left with memories.. and then the curtain falls gradually and memories fade..
You know my junior colleague with whom i used to spend hours in Barapani last year..i do remember the times with her often and i believe she does to , but the phone calls become shorter with one year coming to close..and memories get far away. The present i guess is all powerful and soaks in past bit by bit...Now we are here in a new locality ( Gurgaon) and you beginning a proper school and soon your father would be away for weeks. I do recall my evenings in Barapani  from my twelfth floor apartment...

After a long wait, we shifted to what we can call our ' own' house, with a bit of ' space' inside unlike the house you spent your beginning years in Delhi. The society has a ' children park' along with lots of urbane suave moms i hesitate to strike up conversations with, a basement parking where i struggled the first month to park my car delicately between the pillars leaving just the right amount of space for the next door car. The twelfth floor balcony gives you insight to many of the apartments, sometimes a close view of sky..But guess can do nothing about the friendless thing...Anyway we are happy your new school has taken off and i see a new you emerging slowly.. new friends, new dreams and may be a dream we would live again  through you..our school and college days.

Just scribbled some lines trying to assemble my thoughts...

Lots of love
Yours Ma

School.. The beginning..

 

' Rajdhani'... Thali in the Capital..

' Thali'... the quintessential Indian fantasy of a wholesome meal..combination of variation of breads and rice and the majestic part the plethora of bowls with variety of curries.. dry, semi gravy, full gravy, pickle , salad, papad and yes...sweet..kheer halwa etc etc

We chanced upon the idea of Rajdhani as husband had to find a good Gujarati food joint to appease his soon to be foreign returned boss. So we set for ' Rajdhani' with me thinking of myself nothing less than an extraordinary food critic and husband just hoping boss would be pleased with a good ' find'.

Well being hard core non veg as we are.. it was a brave endeavour on our part but the rave reviews and since we went there looking for a change.. we were not disappointed rather delighted more at the ambience than at the food. Just took our seats... no fuss about menu , order, waiting.. a huge ' thali' with plenty of bowls..and someone came with an antique jar and dish to wash our hands off.. a royal feeling i must say. Then the boys were at their job filling the bowls, glasses. 

Well before we could exchange a word the serving spree continued, chaanch in the earthen kulhad ,rose water, aloo chat, dal bati churma, nariyal kachodi and methi muthiya i think were served as starters!!! Since i am a starter person and very unhealthily binge on the tangy fried food as starters rather than the elaborate heavily spiced main course, i loved the aloo chaat right mix of curd and the tangy taste. methi muthiya was a delight too crispy and delicately flavoured. Nariyal Kachori was too sweet for our taste, dal bati was different though a bit bland at first with a dash of green chutney it seemed wonderful and the churma excellent. (First time i was served dal bati churma i thought the three needed to be had together and hence it was a total diaster!!) Here i have to mention there were four types of chutneys garlic , onion, green pudina dhania chutney, tomato.. two kinds of pickles chilli and the normal carrot wala mixed pickle.The chutneys were the perfect match for the curries each tasting strikingly different from other. 

Then a few varieties of papads which did not go very well with the food and were more like  tea time snacks and then the rotis. There was the normal roti round, soft and tiny which was okay with so much things to have, peas parantha without oil though you can have your share of butter or ghee but the Jawari roti with gud ( jaggery) clinched the deal, it had such an earthy rustic feeling to it just like enjoying the morning warm sun in December morning sitting in a ' khatiya' in a north indian village!! Food..and its magic ..who doesn,t get mesmerized...

The curries were ordinary stuff aloo sabji ( don,t know why it should be a must), corn paneer ( couldn,t find any trace of corn), tinda sabji ( why tinda of all the vegetables), gatta curry ( but i felt i had better gatta in Jaipur). Khichdi was a different taste for my Bengali taste buds, moong dal khichdi with ghee simple and tasty. The Bengali version with dry roasted moong dal releasing a unique flavour..reminiscent of the mildly spicy khichdi served in the Pujas. Kadi was sweet for my taste and so was another Gujarati dal served but then a less informed me had heard that Gujarati food is essentially sweet.

A little query and we found that the thali was a mixture of Gujarati/ Rajasthani so can,t call it purely authentic. But they have a combination of dishes which they keep rotating. Sweet dish was disappointing.. the strangely named sweet ' sandwich' very ordinary. ' Gajar ka halwa' too tasted different not the usual tasty greasy stuff 

but would rate the shrikhand high ( from the land of milk).

                           

A different experience altogether, the boys were apt at refilling the bowls, soon you know you are full.. and the comfortable hand wash as they pour water from that antique jar..  We came out with a mixed feeling..more than the taste a good feel of 'looked after' and ' taken care of' sense prevailed and definitely a great option for vegetarian thali. The fast, apt service, a feeling of complete meal, on the whole a nice experience, expenses almost justified.. somehow i just felt a paan would be just perfect to end the meal...any takers for the idea..

Just hope husband,s soon-to-return boss doesn,t miss the Paan too much!!

Peers and Pressures

Ah this pressure!! Well most of the things in my life fell in place just in time  with this pressure.

In early school days me and Baba..he would give example of all peers scoring maximum in Arithmatic, it was quite subtle though without getting pressurised but an emotional jolt and i ended up beeing stuck in late eighties or sometimes beginning of nineties and always with a stab in the heart of missing the ton. Baba continued through out the years, sometimes over phone.. and i would remember the eyes with the question ' how was your exam'...the anxiousness and my anxiousness at faltering, missing out on all he was aspiring..  Again i,ll have to say it wasn,t a parental pressure technique, may be he wove some of his dreams around me..and always very short of outstanding or excellent.. i was able to make it to the average.. i can state fairly without being modest and guess never disappointed him if not made him a very proud parent.

Teen days were confusing, intriguing. The pressure to look happening gave this immense urge to be ' different'..the safe way out..discomfort with an almost unknown body, falling out of sync with peers..outsmarted in looks and deeds led to shelling of self amidst piles of fiction beginning from  Mills and Boons to Tagore and Sarat Chandra Novels to those 'adult' stories published in ' Desh'. ' I,m different and hence looking for someone different!!' not a bad concept to deal with peer pressure really.

But how long can one survive being out of sync out of tune with peers holding on to a similar group frantically.. As the body turns familiar the soul emerges out of teens , tries to fall in sync with peers and without a 'facebook  like', a coveted ' like'  from any boys around would achieve it..at least being one of the peers though way down the line.Twenties would weave a bit of personality one would carry over for a  few years at least..and craft a ' my life' kind of thing. A dash of 'gyaan' about self, a pinch of confidence, stepping in the work arena from dreamy college university days...thrill of taking on the world and finally meeting up the  'one' who would put an end to all peer fears..and the twenties turn to thirties.

Thirties.. initially promising, also gradually time to be aware of the lines built around self, the secret desire to break all the rules which have eroded 'my' from ' my life'. And finally the health issue so unhealthily overlooked staring blatantly with years of massive negligence... Thirties also characterised frequent visits to parlours and salons, the desire to be 'in sync' with all the hot thirty somethings and forty somethings. Some money in hand...branded clothes, may be finally coming up with a-not-too-sure style quotient and  some admiring gazes...if from men.. definitely excellent but a winner if from women!! Times change..they do. Admiration (not jealousy) from women is a sure shot victory.. to your style, your shopping , your gym sessions if any. Constant struggle really.. workplace full of twenty somethings now, basking on limelight while you take a mild bossy position though no total authority, a middle level stage..whom the newbies love to avoid if you are choking with unwanted gyaan!! Hair colour or henna is mandatory , still the silver lining shines through!! And you do not miss to scan over the head of anyone near thirties..for a peer like feeling..any streaks of silver will do.

Huh.. dread the forties.. more peers and more pressures. With a growing child, slim moms would be the new peer group.. endless list.. And to think of fifties and sixties...can i relax with a head full of grey hair, acidic stomach, high bp and ' sugary' body, arthritic knees and what not,  perhaps admiring looks from men would clinch the deal...and perhaps flirting would be smooth and easy with no baggage of goody image hanging over head....and without a bit of make up applied

Hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke har khwahish pe dam nikle
Bohat niklay mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle...

:-)

The Magic called Kolkata...

What is with this city..magical, mesmerizing, yes yes there is absolutely nothing to go overboard with any Indian city though my vision of foreign cities is close to nil.For all non residing Bengalis ( probashi bengalis living elsewhere in India).. Kolkata is short of a dream unless may be you actually go and start living in it or may be until you have not seen the other happening cities fledgling in India. Anyway for us the thirty something Bengalis born and brought up in some other state fed on a staple diet of Anandabazar patrika, Anandamelas, Deba Sahiyta Kutir Publications, at times Rabindra sangeets ( which we eventually left for Enid Blyton, Mills and Boons and Hindi film music) and also a literal staple diet of rice and mustard fish ( which also we have grown out of but still can,t do without at times) Kolkata holds what we had missed out in our childhood..an open often embarrassingly loud conversation in Bengali, the most flamboyant Durga Puja to be witnessed, buying Bengali books in College Street at amazing bargains, catch up a movie at Nandan ( which i was able to do with my father once), stroll along Maidan and Esplanade gorging on phuchkas and alu kablis, listen to Bengali music all around..and eat ,eat and eat...from amazing street food to a wide variety of fish, rolls at amazingly happy prices.

This year while our journey towards home in Silchar we stopped for a night and a morning over Kolkata. Just could not have enough of the city. 

Two miniscule cups of tea bought by husband from Durgapur station  @ 3  per cup

Difficult to capture the ' ' minisculity'

The Hotel we stayed in Sudder Street

Lunch was ethereal here

                      

             The Sweets Counter.. They also have a Biryani and Chaap counter on the other side

Before I move on to the next pics..definitely have to stop at this one and marvel. We chose this place to stay so as to have a feel of Kolkata for the little time we would be there..New Market, Park Street, Esplanade all close by . For lunch which was already late by a delayed train... we decided to stop by whatever we could find. Pity we did not click the pic of the menu and the dream that was served. Since my toddler was continuously disturbing we decided on the menu as suggested by the staff. It began with a dish something called Kochu Shaak diye Chingri Much ( Shrimps with some herb i can,t translate), it was probably steamed with mustard paste and a dab of mustard oil. Busy in rebuking and controlling the toddler and attending to my uncle who came to meet us there, i was happy they served me the food... and my..one fistful of food.. and believe me this is no exaggeration..for a while i was out of the world..this is food..i stared blankly at my woman friday, used to sharing these delights with her, ' My God what was this..'  She nodded excitedly..' So tasty'...Next came a heavenly moong dal, bhaapa illish, shol macher jhol with phoolkopi alu ( amazing as well) and a homely kind of kajai macher jhol...by that time me and husband have started exclaiming in enthusiasm. And the best part with the exorbitant illish as one of the orders we ended up paying five hundred fifty in all with these exotic food and a full stomach and more for three persons.
Later i analysed the cuisine might have been Bangladeshi as was written somewhere in their pamphlet so the taste felt so strikingly similar yet different. So much to discover..albeit the stomach conditions. With fully stuffed stomachs we did not dare for the sweet stuff , so i urged husband to get us gurer rashogollas ( brown ones made of jaggery) with the Kati Rolls from park street for dinner. Kati rolls though tasty were hugely oily  and being in Delhi for some years would give more marks to a healthier Rumali  version but again Rashogollas from the same place where we had lunch were....husband simply closed his eyes after sinking his teeth in as his head nodded in uummm.. soft silky stuffed with khoya inside. Huh speak of going overboard with food.

Imagine the rush at a tea shop..near New Market..we tried the tea there with  hot tiny crispy  pakodas with lemon chutney

New Market , Park Street all geared up for Christmas...we loved the time we were there..in full festive spirit

So Bong... Tea.. Coffee..and the quintessential Adda..

Some clicks in the morning

Snuggling for warmth

All these are available right here in the street and we have actually seen foreigners dining here

A wonder price list isn,t it...not to miss the bread and Ghoogni ( Bangla version of Matar)

The Tea cum breakfast joint is a hit with foreigners as well

Flury,s..I have heard the name since i used to come to Kolkata with parents,  seems very popular in old bangla movies as well..if i,m correct Uttam Kumar had tea here in some movie

Again forgot to click the pics of breakfast and the menu as me and husband were as usual tangled in some tiff. We ordered for an English breakfast and me a cheese  mushroom omlettee and coffee. Guess there was some feel of the Raj.. with a breakfast full of sausages , bacon and eggs, hash brown, tomatoes. Just overlooking the price factor... the long windows giving way to Park Street behind, a relaxed Sunday pre Christmas morning not a prompt service but looking by the age of the waiters.. i think some restaurants have retained their old captains and waiters.. i have seen in Moulin Rouge as well .. i haven,t seen waiters of such age in any other city i guess..this is Kolkata. I don't have much idea of European breakfast.. so husband helped me with bacon and eggs and gradually the taste built up into me, sausages were a bit too salty health wise, hash brown was crispy tasty something i heard of for the first time. On the whole i loved the ambiance and later sunk teeth into the soft cheese mushroom omelette with a warm cup of coffee.

I copied this pic from net..this plagiarism is ok i guess..i agree with the writer  the price was exorbitant

May be it isn,t the price always, the feel, a peep into old Kolkata.. the days of the Raj, a leisurely Sunday morning..leaving the sleeping toddler at hotel..the two of us..beginning of  a holiday, magic was gripping into us slowly. I was happy with husband for a pleasant morning, a short stroll, clicking pics of a half asleep Kolkata..and a breakfast at Flury,s. In Delhi we could never wake up early enough  and ' agree' for a breakfast outside.  Though as we just began to fight over the most trivial issue at hand, food was served and as we ate silently, miffed at the taste and ambience, the growing crowd.. only with coffee husband asked me ' What were you saying?' ...By that time i was savouring my cheese mushroom omelette..and for once i couldn,t remember what the war was all about.

The stay wasn,t just long enough.