Dec 15, 2012
6.54 PM, Room 2012, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Lazy
What? I'm entitled to be a bit lazy. I take pride in being lazy. Also, the net connection here is so painfully slow, too slow to do any studies. Not to mention, I am completely saturated.
So there.
I want a purple velvet top hat with a green satin ribbon and a 10/6 card.
Wish list.
Moving on...
I went to sleep early last night, or rather, I meant to. Got a surprise call from a friend who didn't know that I was in Kolkata and then cursed me when I said that I was. Ended up yakking for about half and hour, after which my sleepy haze went 'pop' and I was struggling in vain to find the Sandman.
Ah well.
I went back to the Science City today after breakfast. The security guard at the entry gave me a rueful smile and a suffering shake of the head, asking if I was going to freebie-browse for a second day in a row. I managed to get through anyway.
I lingered a bit by the dog show in the small exhibition ground. So many dogs! So many breeds of beautiful dogs! They ranged from squashy pugs to devastatingly adorable beagles (I miss Wishbone, that was a good show), to boarhounds and white labs and pinschers and great danes and pitbulls and a tiny little daschund with a tiny little grandpa! And there was a husky! A white husky!
*dies from internal squee*
*resurrects self*
Jealously protective owners. Bah.
I got into a bit of trouble at the main electrical distribution station for clicking photos. Even the dog inside was giving me the evil eye. And I was arguing and explaining back and forth with a security guard that I wasn't some hooligan: me with my brilliant Hindi and him with his 'Bangla only' policy.
I got the pictures anyway, mate.
I snuck around the basement of the convention center's auditorium, clicking wherever I could and nearly fell into the adjoining dinosaur exhibit. Yes, twinkle-toes me.
It was a bit like playing the Doctor, really. Walk through 'No Entry' doors and rolling shutters that say 'Stay Out' like the whole place is your oyster and if anyone asks or argues, flash a piece of paper that says what you want them to see.
I was missing the pinstripes and the big coat and was having a bad hair day, but I did have the Converse trainers and the brainy specs.
Close enough, I guess.
I wore checks, does that count.
Didn't think so.
Scouting around the auditorium was good fun. I just kind of strolled in past the guard, climbed on stage and belted out the first couple of verses of 'Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien'.
Hee. :D
Somewhere up there, Edith Piaf was giving me the stinkeye.
I went up the stairs to find where the lights were operated from. It was pitch dark up there and the proper concrete stairs only went up for two levels, after which, it was a rickety steel stair. So there I was, notebook and papers tucked under my arm, camera in right hand and phone in left hand for flashlight. Even strolled on the steel catwalk for the front stage lights and crawled around the grid iron behind it.
Fun.
I felt rather dangerous.
Muhahaha.
Rubbish security guard, really. He didn't even notice when I popped him a salute, said thank you and sauntered out.
I finished all my scouting, got a few last bit clarifications from Mr. Chowdhury regarding sewage treatment plants and the like, said thank you and scarpered.
I had called Mr. Lai like he had asked and he told me to be in his office at 1.00 PM. It was 12 flippin' 45 and I kinda had to run, punctuality freak that I am. So I grabbed the first taxi I could find and got myself to Park Street.
Now, I believe that there is a bit of a need for specificity when giving someone directions, right?
Yes, I'm a hypocrite. No, I don't currently care. Deal with it.
So, when you say Park Street, Canac Junction, Mother Theresa statue, Titan shoreroom, building next to it, fourth floor, it's rather specific, right?
Park Street? Check.
Canac Junction? Gotcha.
Mother Theresa? She ain't that tall, but I see her.
Should be fine, eh?
I was wandering around the area back and forth for twenty minutes like a headless chicken, babbling queries about location to anyone who would listen.
Soo the Headless Chicken.
That's a new one.
And then, this really nice and brilliant security guard pointed my sorry bum to a Titan Eye shoreroom across the road, tucked away in a corner and told me to check the building next to it.
Titan Eye.
Not Titan.
Specificity, mate.
You wear one on your wrist, you wear the other on your face.
And when I finally found the place, he wasn't there yet.
And I was hungry.
Bah.
I met him eventually. Spoke English, bless him. He gave me a bit of a talk and some basic advice on how to go about the project and about how I ought to reduce the scale a bit.
Another person who has stated the deep rut I have dug myself into.
Huzzah.
Rah rah sis boom bah.
I got the drawings and photocopied them in a little ship on the ground floor. The guy there asked if I was from Vishakapatnam because of the terrible Hindi accent. Made friends with the elevator guy.
I had a full meal at a place called 'Magnolia'. I suppose I should have known better than to eat in a place on Park Street. Bleeding expensive. I did like the guy who took the order: a wee little half-bent grandpa in a tweed jacket who recommended the mushroom soup, which was lovely when doused in pepper.
By the time I finished, it was three. Too late to go anywhere and hope to get back to the hotel before dark. Like I said before, it gets dark early here and I don't want to be out on my own when I have a very obvious 'lost' face. So I took a ride back, which extended, thanks to Monsieur Cabbie getting lost.
Already did a web check in for tomorrow's flight. I'll sit and consolidate the lot tomorrow and check out at noon.
I might see the rest of the gang at Ahmedabad. Can't wait. :) Traveling alone is plenty fun, a different sort of adventure altogether, but it is occasionally lonely.
That's about it.
I'll write later.
No comments:
Post a Comment