Post Dinner at Fire and Ice, we decided to visit our favourite haunt at The Park Hotel, Some Place Else. Friday night as usual had Hip Pocket pelting out their usual covers of Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones, CCR and the Beatles. So while we were listening to the music I was in engaged in a strange conversation based on my experience at Fire and Ice. What if it is the best Pizzeria in the world, would it be discounted for the fact that it was located in Kolkata and not the Big Apple. And the conversation basically drifted into how various people were driven by various ambitions and how people perceived them. Like the band Hip Pocket. Maybe this is what the guys wanted to do; play music to packed loyal audience at Some Place Else every Friday. So would that make them any less than a band that plays at a London Pub or a New York Night Club? Yes those blokes would probably get paid better but then who defines better. Maybe the Dollars or Pound Sterling didn’t get them the satisfaction monetarily as the Rupee sum that these guys got. And that is only monetarily speaking. Am sure the guys here could afford much more comfort and warmth than there. So I drew a conclusion that we are governed by defined socio economic dictates of what a good life is. So is an Aston Martin the best car, well maybe in the west, but then in India it would make the person who owned such a car disgustingly rich.
Anyway I decided to call it a night and before leaving a visit to the men’s room led to the strangest encounter. I bumped into the bassist of Hip Pocket in the men’s room and he recognised me. Better still he recognised me by my voice. And unbelievably we went to school together and were in the same class. I for the love of god couldn’t place him. Anyway now I can. It’s like one of those brief embarrassing moments, which I seem to have mastered the art of, when you meet someone and haven’t the foggiest notion who he is but he knows you, or for that matter you meet someone and forget their name. Anyway like I said I placed him and have a vivid picture of him in my head now. Of course when we went to school he had hair on his head. So a bald guy with a ponytail who you’re meeting thirteen years after is bound to give you a bout of amnesia. All in all now I know one more musician in Kolkata.
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