The North East Connection Part - 2

 

The rest of the journey for Rajveer was spent in making negotiations with the new Ticket Collector at Mughal Sarai who had to be greased a fat amount but finally gave an empty top berth which was unoccupied all the way to Kolkata. Rajveer slept like a log waking only the next morning as the train screeched to a halt a Howrah station. He and Nilanjana said their goodbyes with him promising to try his best to make it to the concert. He had to wait in a long queue at the Pre-paid Taxi Stand finally getting hold of an old rickety Ambassador with an Orange Turbaned Sardarji at the wheel. He was thrilled to know Rajveer was from Haryana. He was from Karnal and had been living in Kolkata for the last 20 years. He had arrived in the city to sort a property dispute but fell in love with it and settled here. He still had part of his family in Karnal and shuttled between East and North. His name was Gurvinder Singh.

His hotel reservations had been done at The Oberoi Grand an iconic hotel in the city. Gurvinder weaved his taxi through the traffic heading onto Howrah Bridge. Unlike Delhi and Gurgaon the first thing Rajveer noticed were pedestrians, who were visible almost everywhere he turned his head around. In New Delhi or matter of fact in Gurgaon or at Noida you would not find much pedestrians. Either they are too scared they would be run over by the humungous SUV’s plying all over, or they might be picked up by cops mistaking them as either vagabonds, mentally challenged, or suicidal candidates. Here he saw people from all walks of life busily moving across the roads, or on the pathways, their destinations set and their feet confidently moving forward. Gurvinder Singh moved the taxi onto Howrah Bridge which Rajveer till now had only seen in school textbooks, or postcards available at the local shops. The structure was magnificent and imposing. It was a landmark of British engineering which held strong till date. There were all kinds of vehicles plying on it from buses which came in all shapes and colors, to the yellow and black Ambassador Taxis, they were accompanied by hand pulled carts pulled strenuously by weak and frail looking men, who wiped the sweat with their chequered towels and heaved them at the same time.

The traffic did not follow any particular order something which was common in all the developing, and developed metropolitans and cosmopolitans of today’s India. Each tried to dominate the other and plough their way forward. The taxi sped through Brabourne Road which towered Skyscrapers casting a shadow on the road. The sun tried to play peek and boo among the buildings which were a blend of modern and colonial structures. To some extent Rajveer found the old British era buildings of Connaught Place better restored than the buildings he saw. However they had an old fashioned nostalgic charm about them which reminiscenced of times gone by, and seasons weathered. Rajveer found the city bursting at the seams since the per capita area to people seemed not to balance out, they seemed to be teeming and flowing out from every nook and corner.

Gurvinder Singh on the occasion of having a fellow North Indian as his passenger had put on a Punjabi song which belted out of the speakers behind his head.

“Do you have something in the collection which would be from the local culture….er I mean maybe Bengali Songs?”

Gurvinder Singh braked hard almost hitting a stray handcart, and looked back.

“Paaji kya keh rahe ho! This is one occasion when I get to play my favorite Punjabi music in front of my fellow brother from North India, someone who understands the melody, and you want to listen to Bengali songs…”

“Maybe if you have any” Rajveer said.

Gurvinder seemed dejected. He let out a long sigh, rummaged in the glove box and brought out a CD which had the title written in Bengali. The CD went in the slot and Rajveer heard Kishore Da’s voice singing out

“Chiro Dini Tumi je Amaar…..”

Gurvinder lurched the taxi back in gear and moved forward. The song seemed to have a catchy tune and Rajveer enjoyed the music whilst looking at the panorama outside. He thought how different parts of the country had different flavors, each with their novelties. The cultural amalgamation of nation is what mesmerized people from other lands. They drew magnetically towards this heritage, and considered India still a land of camels, bullocks, and snake charmers. They are a bit aghast at seeing the development which this third world nation has achieved so far, but we Indians tend to spoil the impression with our cows grazing on streets. No wonder these tourists stop their buses, and take their cameras out to capture this unnatural scenario. Where in the world would you find cows sprawled in the middle of a busy intersection, with people managing their way around it, rather than move it to its designated area. It happens only in India!

“So that Sirji is your Hotel” Gurvinder said and pointed to white building at a distance.

The Oberoi Grand was an iconic hotel and landmark of Kolkata. It has been established around 1911 and the structure had undergone multiple renovations but still stood pretty robust. It was a preferred stay for overseas clients, tourists, and people from other cities wanting to soak in the legacy of the place. Rajveer’s client too was lodged in the same hotel. His meeting was scheduled at 02:00pm at “Three Sixty Three” the lounge within the premises. It was around 10:00am and Rajveer had approximately four hours to freshen up, get his presentation in place and be at the scheduled venue.

Gurvinder Singh’s taxi screeched in the driveway of the Hotel. He turned around and handed over a visiting card to Rajveer.

“Sirji these are my details. Please do contact me for any requirements. I will provide you a heavy discount after all you are my fellow North Indian brother” he beamed and flashed a smile at Rajveer.

Rajveer paid and thanked him and got his luggage out of the taxi. At the reservation counter he gave his details and took over the keys to Room 303. Out of curiosity he asked the young man behind the desk

“Do you know in which room is Mr. David Murray?”

“I am sorry Sir, but we cannot provide you confidential information of our guests” he replied.

“Just curious. I had an important meeting with him and was wondering if he has already checked in” Rajveer winked at him.

The bell boy took the luggage and shifted it to his room. After tipping him Rajveer closed the door and started unpacking his luggage. He came across a pullover and smiled.

His father had accompanied him to Ambience Mall which is one of the largest malls in India. It was a couple of kilometers from his house. His father wanted to buy a pullover for himself, and gift one to Rajveer. He took him through the shops at the mall. A simple soul in a Kurta, dhoti, Nehru waistcoat and spotless white turban on his head he etched out a figure of culture and rurality at the same time. His father felt a bit awkward and mentioned to him.

“Beta where have you brought me. This does not seem to be a place where I can get a good sweater. Mani ram at our local shop would have had excellent stuff”

“Papa just have a look at them and see if you like any. If not we can definitely but it from there”

His father analyzed and walked through the sections at the store, his hands folded behind his back and a selective expression on his face.

“Sir Can I help you?” one of the girls at the designated counters asked them.

“Ah yes…can you show us a pullover for my father”

The girl proceeded to unfold and display an array of pullovers on the counter. After feeling through around twenty of them his father found something he liked. He put it on and looked at himself in the mirror.

“This seems good. I will take it. Rajveer why don’t you choose something?”

Rajveer looked through the sections and pointed at a particular pullover.

“Can you show me the red one in the Monte Carlo Collection?”

“Why do you want to buy that one? Mani Ram told me the other day he has received a new shipment of “ Montu Carlo” sweaters. He says they are of a pretty good material and would definitely sustain the winters”

Rajveer could not help smiling to himself. His father with his innocence and mannerisms was a figure to behold. But he was the support, the rock solid pillar, who had helped and inspired him to reach his milestones. He had welcomed and accepted the changes of the society and believed his child could achieve higher realms of greatness if he could blend in the modern world. He was rooted to ethics and traditions, but vouched for the advancement and opportunities which were abundant in today’s world.

He ensured Rajveer got a perfect education, and exposed him to the world outside the small village of Jharsa at a very early age. Slowly and gradually the Hookah- serving and milking of the buffaloes took a backseat to co-curricular activities and sports. Internet was introduced to him at a time when the other kids were still glued to their video games. His father had realized and recognized Rajveer’s aspirations, and left no stone unturned to pave a path for him.

A knock on the door broke Rajveer’s thoughts. He opened it to find a steward checking if he would like some refreshments. Rajveer ordered some tea and snacks and unpacked the remaining of his suitcase. He took a shower and dressed up in a neatly ironed and well cut suit, one of the few he kept for business meetings. It was 12:00 pm and Rajveer had a couple of hours before the meeting was scheduled to begin. He opened his laptop and worked through the last minute preparations on the presentations. He closed his eyes and prayed for everything to go well. He had been through numerous Business Presentations with Clients, but he could not put a finger on why he was nervous for this one. Maybe the reason was because there was an onshore vacancy which had been displayed on the Company Portal, and was also mentioned by his Manager. It was aligned to his line of business. Rajveer was one of the most eligible candidates who could get through it. He had overheard a boardroom conversation where David Murray’s name was mentioned as a very critical client, who if could be brought on board would seal a 5 year deal, churning in revenues for the company. He felt privileged to be chosen by the Management to work on this acquisition. His failure would be a golden chance lost and a question on his credibility. He sighed, he had butterflies in his stomach!

He was there at the lounge sharp at 1:45pm. He looked around and enquired for David Murray. The usher informed him David would be arriving in sometime and directed him to a table. Rajveer unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. David arrived sharp at 2:00pm. He was a tall, well-built bespectacled man with neatly trimmed blond hair. He must have been in his mid-forties but looked younger than his age. He had a charming smile which was extended with a handshake.

“Hi, I am David”

“Hi, I am Rajveer”

To be continued………………………..