The Guide

“Hello dear, what brings you here at this unearthly hour. My Honourable Master sleepeth now,” said the Goat in White.

“I come in peace not to awaken the Lord but just to see the place. Just a casual visitor, a tourist they call me.” said the Man in Black T-shirt and shorts.

“Tourist and you? Naa-yee,” cried aloud a few more of the breed. “You don’t look like one. Neither is your skin white, nor do you have a camera with a big lens hanging in front. Just by wearing a Man United T-shirt you can’t become the man from Go Ra Land.”

This is what I felt when I landed at around 9 o’clock at night at the Tomb of Ahmed Shah near Manek Chowk at Ahmedabad. With not a soul in sight, these goats were the only guardians of the man in whose memory this city is named. But I later came to know that Ahmed Shah 1 of the Muzaffarid Dynasty ruled the Gujarat Sultanate between 1411 to 1442. He named his new capital city in honour of four Ahmeds- Shaikh Ahmad Khattu Ganj Baksh who was his religious teacher, Kazi Ahmed and Malik Ahmed and His Majesty himself. Sad to see the man who built the city lying alone with no lights, illumination and had it not been for my autorickshaw driver Tauseef, I too would never have ventured into the small lanes of the old city to reach this place.

Met Tauseef near the modern river front of Sabarmati where I landed that evening after finishing my office work. For once I was tempted to take to the speedboat ride but then as usual Mr Google threw up a place called Jhulta Minar which sounded more interesting to go and watch. After bargaining unsuccessfully with Tauseef, the autowala, I started my journey towards the shaking minarets at around 7.30pm. After a couple of minutes into the ride, got befriended with the fellow who suggested that there are some other good places to visit on way to Jhulta Minar and I readily said, ”Yes, let’s go”.

My first stop was Sidi Saiyyed Mosque which was said to have been built by an Abyssinian General of the last Sultan of the Gujarat in 1573. As it had become quite dark, my iPhone failed to capture the lattice work in this mosque which, as explained to me by a bystander, was so intricate that it earned the mosque its other name, Jali Masjid. The most beautifully done work was on a single piece of stone having intertwined trees, foliage and palm motif which has now been used by the best B School in India, IIM-A, as its logo.

By now Tauseef had become my friend and guide…the philosopher part has been intentionally not added to the cliché. The next stop he took me was Jama Masjid via Teen Darwaja which is the historical gateway of the Bhadra Fort. Legend says that Laxmi, the Goddess of Wealth, came to the gate of Bhadra Fort to leave the city in the night. The watchman Khwaja Siddique Kotwal identified her and stopped her from going out until he obtained permission from King Ahmed Shah. He went to the king and beheaded himself in order to keep Laxmi in the city which is a reason for the city’s prosperity till date. There is also a tomb near Bhadra Fort dedicated to Siddique Kotwal and a temple of Bhadra Kali representing Goddess Laxmi. A lamp is lit in one cavity of the Teen Darwaza continuously for over six hundred years now by a Muslim family in dedication to the legend.

Tauseef told me that I would not be allowed to enter the Shahi Jama Masjid since I was wearing shorts.I told him it was fine with me if I could just see it from outside. But when we landed there, from outside, this Jama Masjid looked like pigeon hole as compared to the one at Delhi. Tauseef was ,however, determined to take me inside. As I waited at the gate of the Masjid, our man went inside and after ten minutes came back with a lungi. He wrapped the lungi around my waist…it looked quite neat and clean and I walked inside and saw the huge place of worship which could hold a couple of thousands in the open space during namaz.  Jama Masjid was built during the reign of Ahmed Shah in 1424.This mosque was at that point in time the largest and often considered the most beautiful mosque in the East.

By now Tauseef had also become my philosopher and why not. The man had taken so much trouble just to show the masjid to a non-believer that was happy to designate him, Kazi Tauseef.

My next couple of interesting historical stoppages before going to Jhulta Minar were also gems but unfortunately in the darkness of the night they could not be captured well on my camera phone:

Rani Sipri Mosque or the Masjid-e-Nagina. It was commissioned in 1514 by Rani Sipri , the Hindu wife of Sultan Mehmud Begada who had executed their son for some mistake. The queen was later buried inside the mosque.

Rani no Hajiro or Mughalai Bibi’sTomb is a tomb complex where eight tombs of various wives of the Sultans of Gujarat including of Ahmed Shah I are kept. Saw the tombs from outside peeping through the jali work as the tomb was shut by then.The principal tomb belongs to Mughalai Bibi, the wife of Muhammad Shah II.The name reminded me of my mother whose Mughalai paranthas were a big hit with my friends at school.So if ever I were to make a memorial for in her honour, I knew what to name it, Mughalai Ma no Hajiro.

Finally, landed where the journey was to begin, the Jhulta Minar. Here again I was told by a Kazi who descending the steps leading to the mosque that I couldn’t go inside in my shorts and that I should come next morning at 10am in full trousers to see the place. Tauseef pleaded on my behalf with the Kazi saying that I will be going away to Mumbai next morning. The Kazi agreed to let me go inside the complex but not within the sanctum sanctorum which was enough for me. This place is also called the Sidi Bashir Mosque and was built in 1452. The mosque has two tall minarets and a gentle shaking of one of the minarets leads to the other minaret vibrating after a few seconds even though the passage between the two minarets remains free of any vibration. Many have tried to explain the phenomenon but failed to prove anything conclusively.

It was almost 10.30pm and now my energy levels had come down and hunger level had gone up proportionately. Happy at what my guide had done for me during the entire evening, I asked Tauseef to take us to a place where he always wanted to go. He drove me to a place called Araby’s which appeared completely packed with people waiting outside. My Friend, Philosopher and Guide was not one to be denied or delayed a good night’s hard earned dinner at his dream place. He went to the counter and spoke to someone there and in no time we were escorted inside the air-conditioned restaurant. Tauseef proudly told me that one of his childhood friends worked in the place as a manager and his recommendation had worked. Here we were treated to absoloutely wonderful dinner of chilly chicken as starters followed by shahi keema with butter naan and a aerated drink to gulp down. I enjoyed the delicious food but enjoyed seeing Tauseef eat with a childlike delight. He also got me a ten percent discount on the bill.

Now my phone rang…Mumbai Bibi calling…”Bharat Darshan khatam hua tumhara?” Yes, it had ended as Tauseef drove me to my hotel. He refused to take any money for the auto ride and I had to literally force the money into his pocket. He bid good night with a smile which I will never forget for a long time.

It couldn’t have been a more fascinating night travelling to the old city but so full of history at every step. How I wished the sultans of the city today did something to restore these historical sites and promote them for people to come and live history. Mr. Google told me there was much more to see, I told him another day, maybe. I shall come and call Tauseef again. But Google Da told me another interesting tale about the city. Ahmed Shah was camping on the banks of the Sabarmati River when he saw a hare chasing a dog. The Sultan was quite intrigued by this sight and asked his spiritual adviser to explain. The sage pointed out the unique characteristics of the land they were in which nurtured such rare qualities that turned a timid hare to chase a ferocious dog. Impressed by this, the Sultan who had been looking for a place to build his new capital, decided if there was any place, it had to be this and nowhere else. Little did Ahmed Shah of 1411 realize that the land which would be ruled after six hundred years by Shahs of today would also find the timid vegetable eating population chasing away the ferocious meat eating ones…

No wonder they say, history repeats itself.

SS

Ki Mishti...On a Sugar Trail

My Hindi teacher in school, Mr. Yadav, would often repeat a joke that the easiest subject you could choose to do your PhD would be on Abuses in Bengali for they have a handful…tumi sh..la boka ch.. a, har..m jada and shuorer bachcha…and of course the most difficult PhD would be to do the same in Punjabi.

So when you hear the term Sweet Bengal, is it the sweetness of the language or the multitude of mishti that you can get here, is difficult to say but for me a walk around the city of Kolkata tells me that this is undoubtedly The Diabetic Capital of the World.  Having some time in hand in the evening, after a series of tough meetings with insurance agents, did a quick search of Mr. Google to find out the most famous sweet shops in Kolkata. Now this was not difficult for Mr. Google to answer but for me to select from the four million options, it sure was. So I zoomed in on the top rated and common to all searches, four of the shops. And so began my mishit trail on bus, metro, tram and my ever so loyal and loving two legs that never fail me.

Stop No. 1: Bhim Chandra Nag

Took a Metro to Central…I must say that even after over thirty years now, the pan spitting Bhadralok has kept the Metro as clean as ever. As is usually the case, I, too, walked out of the exit which was the wrong one and so had to walk longer to the shop but it took me via an interesting place…Firingi Kalibari set up over 500 hundred years ago by a European called Anthony who became a bhakt of Goddess Kali.

Established in 1836, Bhim Chandra Nag’s sondesh is supposed to be the ultimate. In the picture below you can see the 6^th generation of the Nag family and next to it is the famed Cooke & Kelvey clock which was manufactured in Britain about 160 years ago with the dial in Bangla and is still working fine.

Stop No. 2: Girish Chandra Dey & Nakur Chandra Nandy

Asked an old man about the bus to take to go to Ramdulal Sarkar Street where the shop is situated. He told me that all buses will go there but ask the conductor to help you get off one stop before ( aagey) Beadon Street. So I jumped aboard the blue bus plying on Kolkata streets with the conductor shouting…aastey (slowly) and tara tari (hurry up) in the same breathe….bought a ticket and asked Mr. Conductor to let me know “ Beadon Streeter aagey”. The bus moved picking up people at every stop and hurrying when our man would call out to the driver, “Sargent aachey” meaning the Police Sergeant is around so don’t stop. Anyway, he showed me the bus stop and I realized the conductor took me to be a Khotta or Meyro… these are Bong colloquials for someone from the North or Marwadi and ‘aagey’ for this section was ‘after’ and not ‘before’ unlike us Bengalis. So my walk became longer. Asked a few people about the street but they all seemed unaware of it but the moment I said I wanted to go to Nakur’s mishti shop, surprisingly everyone knew the way….shoja, porey daan dik (go straight and then turn right). Indeed this city is unique where names of streets do not matter but mishti shops are the landmarks here.

This shop, established about 80 years ago, got its name from the father-in-law (Girish Dey) joining hands with son-in-law (Nakur Nandy). This famed shop resembles the wine shops in Kolkata with grills all around. You need to order and pay across the grilled façade….not very much like a welcoming mishti shop but the people don’t mind it, they love it. The sondesh here again is the thing to die for and they have over sixty varieties at any given time. While buying the sweets here, I heard the mellifluous voice of Manna Dey and so turned around to see a memorial built in his name with  a bust and fountains  around it and his songs playing round the clock….Kamaal Kolkata.

Stop No.3: K.C Das

Everyone has heard about this sweet shop of the best rosogollas in the world from sponge to diabetes variety. So took a tram going to Esplanade but midway when the conductor shouted Than Thania Kalibari, I jumped off to see this Kali temple. Built in 1705, the place looks like having undergone some renovation, and is abuzz with the devotees praying with folded hands, burning incense sticks and doing the shashtang pranaam which is lying flat, face down with arms extended forward and fingers clasped in complete surrender and obeisance mode. There is something good about the place and felt nice visiting it. Said my small prayer as well.

Walked out of there and saw lots of book stores. All right! This was the famous College street where you could find every book ever published in the world. Today, however, the demand is for entrance exam compendiums than for the classics of old. Here I saw the famed Presidency College which recently completed 200 years. Sent a Whatsapp picture of the entrance to my only wife, Debi, who felt nostalgic about her alma mater. Stepped across the street to hail the next tram but felt thirsty and so went out to look for some place to buy a cold drink.  Couldn’t find any for there were book stores and more book stores. Then suddenly my eyes fell on a place called Indian Coffee House….Aa ha…another part of history and so I walked up the winding staircase. Whoa…it was full of people, young and old, with waiters in colonial pagri atop their heads. Sadly my thirst wasn’t quenched as here they stop taking fresh orders after 8pm. Took a couple of pictures of the place famous for Bengali adda where many a paper Che Guevara and many a revolution were born.

Took a long walk to Bow Bazar Chowk and clambered onto a bus for Esplanade or ‘’Splanade”, as the bus conductors call it, to reach KC Das’ famous shop at the cross roads of this place now called Dharmatala. From the outside it was apparent that the owners had done up the shop recently. The manager inside asked me not to take pictures of the shelves containing the sweets…it was their closely held family secret recipe and style quite alike the Coke XXX formula…khoob bhaalo…Ate the largest rosogolla in sight worth kingly Rs 35 a piece but was worth every bite of it and every drop of its sugary syrup.

By now it was 9pm and my health meter on my phone said that I had done over 20,000 steps for the day. Hence, decided to do the fourth and the last mishti shop on my list the next day. Now my legs started walking in an auto mode towards a roadside joint called Hot Kathi Roll on Park Street. For the last 30 years since I joined National Insurance at Kolkata, I have always made it a point to eat here at least once every time I come to this City of Joy. Enjoyed my oil dripping egg-chicken roll with kashondi (mustard) and then walked back to my hotel room on Ho Chi Min Sarani. After a leisurely bath went off to a round of loud snoring and woke up next morning at 6.30am…ready for the last mishtir dokaan.

Stop No.4: Balaram Mullick & Radharaman Mullick

Hopped onto a cab which in no time took me to Paddapukur Road and from there I walked to Jadubabur Baajar where stood a cottage like structure of the famous Balaram Mullick & Radharaman Mullick Sweets which, arguably today, is considered The Best and often is the first name to appear on any search engine. Picked up some sweets for home and felt a sense of achievement…completed my mishti trail.

On my way back to the airport came across another famous shop at Park Circus with such an apt name…Mithai…but left it for tasting its wares for another day. The urge to visit the city again became even more as Debi sent across a short video on Whatsapp on ’10 Best Things to See in Kolkata’…and among them were the St.John’s Church, St. Paul’s Church, a boat ride on Hooghly, Dakshineshwar Temple and ,of course, a place where as a student of history I should have entered long time ago…The Indian Museum.

No wonder someone sang in praise of the city comparing it to his beloved…Prothomo-to Ami Tomake Chai…Shesh Porjonto Tomake Chai…All I want is you, from the beginning till the end. With all its problems, squalor and disease there is no place like Sweet Bengal and its throbbing heart at Kolkata…Ami Tomake Chai.

SS