Case Study Trip: Day 3

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.

Case Study Trip: Day 2

Dec 14, 2012
8.18 AM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Stuffed and scraggly

Stuffed and Scraggly Soo. My games with alliteration will never cease to amuse me.

I just had a thorough tuck-in at breakfast. I skipped dinner yesterday and lunch will most probably run late. Two full meals a day is quite enough while traveling anyhoo.

I slept off early last night. It gets really drafty after dark. Finished my accounts and washed my icky mop, thus explaining the adjective 'scraggly'. I currently bear an odd resemblance to an oversized wet dog. Sat and sorted through case study reference notes, flipped through whatever I have to ask anyone and everyone there. I'm meeting Mr. Chowdhury at 11.00 and he'll delegate me to someone else to take me around. I just pray to all ye Gods up there that Whatshisname speaks a bit of English. My Hindi is broken and with my fantastic accent, it's only getting worse.

Scraggly Soo out.

***

Dec 14, 2012
8.28 PM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Tired and tingly feet

More alliteration. Hee. :D

Yes, yes, Uncrowned Queen of Cheap Thrills.

Moving on...

The loo is weird. The toilet talks like the one at home. It croak-groans. Croans. It sounds like Lurch on meth.

Weird...

I did a lot of walking today, explaining the feet. Mr. Chowdhury and his seneschal (sub-director to those who aren't fantasy geeks), Mr. Sathyanarayana, signed the copy of the bonafide from college and I got myself a signed letter in Bangla from the security head. I dunno what it said; it could very well have been an ode to the Tooth Fairy for all I knew, but it seemed to work whenever I used it. No guided tour or anything, I just had free reign to go wherever the hell I wanted. As for info, I had to ask around to whoever was there.

Basically, I was playing critique slash Scooby Doo, sometimes sneaking around the service areas and walking right through the 'No Entry' doors like I bloody well owned the place. The expressions of those watching me were amusing.

As for the info, I spent half the day stumbling over my cracked-and-badly-splintered-at-the-seams Hindi with every security guard I could find. Every bloke in blue. Seriously, they were everywhere.

"Nahin, main Bangla nahin jaanthi hoon," became a refrain.

Give a Southern girl a break, mates. She's trying here.

Anyhoo, I couldn't finish everything today. I have to do up the convention center area and the service yard tomorrow, hopefully by 11.00 AM. I have to call Mr. Lai at 11, a person whom Mr. Chowdhury put me in touch with to get me drawings of the whole Science City. Have to see him tomorrow as well. He gave me directions to the office: 'Park Street, fourth floor by Mother Theresa'.

Brill.

I was worn out to hell and back by the time I got back to the hotel. Made some calls, sent a mail, donned the hoodie and went for dinner.

Where?

The same place I had breakfast at.

Looks like Tacky Spangles Bar next door is exactly what it is: a bar. No wonder the blokes there stared when I told them that all I wanted was lunch.

Meh.

God, I'm sleepy.

It's not even 9.00.

Yeesh, it's cold.

But it's not that cold.

...

Another bit of proof that my brain has a mild case of schizophrenia.

Bah humbug.

I'm gonna snooze.

Nighty night.

Joie de Vivre

Epiphanies come at the oddest of times, I've found. It's always when you least expect it, when you're doing something boring and humdrum, or worse, when you're raging through your work because you're inching too close to a Deadline of Doom. My current epiphany falls a bit into the latter category, but if I don't write this down now, I think my head just might bust.

I'm 21 years old, soon to complete 22, and in my final year of college. I'm an architecture student, and in the common habit of architecture students, I have general habits of being hotheaded, more than a bit mad and perhaps, more idealistic than I ought to be. I'm currently juggling three projects, one of which is due day after tomorrow. And just while I was placing finishing touches to a sketch, it suddenly hit me that while I love doing this (which I do, honestly, I do enjoy it), there is something that is starting to turn this into a chore. I'm not enjoying this as much as I should. I'm not loving this as much as I used to.

Maybe it's because of all the professors and pressure and all the whatnot, or maybe it's just me being naive and ridiculous, but why am I not able to love designing buildings as much as I did last year? What changed in those 365 1/4 days?

I mulled over it while taking a break to feed the stray cat visiting my doorstep. And while I did, two words leaped out at me from the swirly abyss of knick-knacks that is my mind, and it spoke with a booming voice that made me think of the monsters that would show up in the old kiddy TV shows I used to watch.

"FINAL YEAR," it roared at me.

I listened more carefully and the words seemed to warp into something else.

"WHAT COMES AFTER?"

Bang. There it is. Hello.

Over the last few years, I had taken to writing down the stories that my funny little brain would come up with and one of those stories in particular took root like a seed and grew and grew until it seemed to block out the sun. Now, there is probably nothing in the world that I love more than that story of mine. I love that world. I love those characters. I love living their story and learning about them and finding out what they're going to do. And I find myself waiting to just get this one last year in college over with so that I can get underway with Project Publish.

But what about architecture?

Well, I need architecture. I enjoy it and I'm not about to let five long, hard years of work go to nothing. I can't survive on being a writer alone. I'll do both then. I'll have my love of buildings and my passion for stories. I won't lose them both; they both mean too much.

But then it got me thinking of what everyone else has been talking about. "I'll go, study my masters, get a job, get married." "I've got a family business, I'll get married." "I'll find a job, work for two years, do my masters, start my own firm, get married." And whenever anyone asks me, I just say, "Oh, I'll get a job and work a couple of years." "What next?" they ask. "Let me graduate first!" I tell them.

And it strikes me then: we are all so engrained into this system that we call life. I don't know if what I'm seeing is some twisted version of reality that my imagination is cooking up for me, if I'm just being a young person who thinks that they know everything, or if I'm seeing a shard of truth. But isn't that what it reduces to? Go to school, go to college, get a degree, get a job, earn money, get married, have children, raise them properly, retire. And when I think about what's coming after this year, I'm terrified out of my stripey socks.

Because I don't think it's all so black and white. I think there's so much more. I think it's possible for there to be so much more, even if they are to be found within the trappings of this system that we are invariably dragged into.

Because I want it to be so. I want to learn about everything that I can learn about. I don't want to just go and study a master's degree because it is expected of me. I want to see parts of the world I've only ever looked at in the pages of a book or in computer screens. I don't want to be stuck in a four-walled apartment or a picket fence house for years together. I want to work and earn money doing something that I love, so that it doesn't feel like a daily grind. I don't want a 9 to 5 job where I stare at a laptop screen and further ruin my already myopic eyes, doing something because someone is breathing down my neck and forcing me to. I want to fall completely and utterly in love with someone who'll play Scrabble on cold days, dance with me in the rain, discuss philosophy and Shakespeare and watch old movies and reruns of Doctor Who over hot chocolate and chips. I don't want to get married  to someone just to find out that he doesn't understand a word of what I say.

I want to know who I am and what defines me. I want to live and love to the fullest. I want to write every word that comes to me and share them with the world so that they can feel the magic that those words weave over me. I want to be extraordinary.

But how can I do that? I'll probably figure it out as I go along. I'm still young, but I feel something changing with every day that passes. I'm starting to seriously consider things that I used to dismiss into my 'Dreams Only' folder. Things will happen, I intend to make it so. And when reality comes around, I'll meet it, ready for its challenge.

For now, I've got a project to ramp up on. Ta!