In the late sixties I worked in a private firm in Dharamtella area of Calcutta (Now Kolkata). It was a small office having a staff of little over twenty- all male- of various ages from middle twenties to fifties. The members of the staff were on cordial terms with each other. But we were a group of four, two Bengalis Dipak & Roni, one Muslim Shahed and myself, a Gujarati, all bachelors, ages twenty three, four, who were really close to each other. We were always found together after office hours – be it in a restaurant or in Cinema or elsewhere. In fact we were known as a gang.
Saturday was half day and on all Saturdays, after office hours, all four of us religiously went to a bar behind Metro Cinema. Saturdays were looked forward to and it was a ritual none of us wanted to miss. Our talks ranged from office to boss to sports to a little politics to Cinema to girls studying in Loretto School opposite our office. We had a great evening in the bar and expenses were shared four ways. Entire office was aware of this and some even wanted entry into the gang but found no way, some we avoided and some could not afford as they were married or had other responsibilities.
One day a Bengali lad of around 19 joined our office. He was a short fellow, having 5.2” with jerky actions. He was from some little town near Chinsurah in West Bengal and made daily up and down journeys to office. His name was Sarkar, I forgot his first name and it appeared that he was conscious of his short height and to make up for that he wanted to learn everything fast, from office work to City ways. He was put under one Mr. Saha – a simple man in his early fifties. Mr. Saha started to teach him simple work but he wanted to learn everything at a time. As he was a little fellow, everybody treated him as such which he didn’t like.
Soon, as was inevitable, he came to know about our gang and desperately wanted an in, which we would not allow. But he was desperate. Even a few in our office staff advised him to leave us alone.
On this particular Saturday we went to our regular bar as usual and had just settled when Sarkar entered. He must have followed us and waited outside for a while. When his eyes adjusted to dim lights, he noticed us and came straight to our table. He asked if he could sit with us. We were reluctant but Shahed felt sorry for the little fellow and relented. So Sarkar joined us, knowing nothing about drinks, not showing his ignorance in his desperation to join our gang.
The waiter came. He knew us as regulars. Roni & Dipak asked for large pegs of Aristocrat. Shahed went for small xxx rum. I ordered a large peg of old Monk. Now the waiter turned to Sarkar. Not to be outdone and not knowing a whisky from a rum, blurted; “One large peg of beer”.
He never made entry in our gang.
Saturday was half day and on all Saturdays, after office hours, all four of us religiously went to a bar behind Metro Cinema. Saturdays were looked forward to and it was a ritual none of us wanted to miss. Our talks ranged from office to boss to sports to a little politics to Cinema to girls studying in Loretto School opposite our office. We had a great evening in the bar and expenses were shared four ways. Entire office was aware of this and some even wanted entry into the gang but found no way, some we avoided and some could not afford as they were married or had other responsibilities.
One day a Bengali lad of around 19 joined our office. He was a short fellow, having 5.2” with jerky actions. He was from some little town near Chinsurah in West Bengal and made daily up and down journeys to office. His name was Sarkar, I forgot his first name and it appeared that he was conscious of his short height and to make up for that he wanted to learn everything fast, from office work to City ways. He was put under one Mr. Saha – a simple man in his early fifties. Mr. Saha started to teach him simple work but he wanted to learn everything at a time. As he was a little fellow, everybody treated him as such which he didn’t like.
Soon, as was inevitable, he came to know about our gang and desperately wanted an in, which we would not allow. But he was desperate. Even a few in our office staff advised him to leave us alone.
On this particular Saturday we went to our regular bar as usual and had just settled when Sarkar entered. He must have followed us and waited outside for a while. When his eyes adjusted to dim lights, he noticed us and came straight to our table. He asked if he could sit with us. We were reluctant but Shahed felt sorry for the little fellow and relented. So Sarkar joined us, knowing nothing about drinks, not showing his ignorance in his desperation to join our gang.
The waiter came. He knew us as regulars. Roni & Dipak asked for large pegs of Aristocrat. Shahed went for small xxx rum. I ordered a large peg of old Monk. Now the waiter turned to Sarkar. Not to be outdone and not knowing a whisky from a rum, blurted; “One large peg of beer”.
He never made entry in our gang.
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