I had kept some time to do the formalities in New Delhi Airport. It took a fraction of that time. I was done checking in, immigration and then security in 9 minutes!! Tried to keep myself busy perusing the various shops but, none of them were to my interest.

So, went to the lounge that I was assigned to and was just going to settle down in a chair, when I saw Nilanjan next to me!! Nilanjan (DJ’s brother) and Masha have become great friends from to the meetings we have at bars when they visit DJ and PJ. I have some fond memories of Covid times when a few of us were an informal bubble and we got to interact with them a lot!

He was taking the Doha route to get back to the USA. I am taking the Amsterdam route!

When I met Pintu and Sintu, I had asked if any of the other old friends were still around. Most of the names they mentioned were strangers to me. I had already left by the time they had come in. Except one name – Joy Moitra!

I remembered him. In fact, I remembered his dad vividly. I think he was in the same department as my dad at work. The two distinct memories I have of his dad are that he always wore the traditional Bengali white kurta pyjama and he was never without a “paan” in his mouth!! This is a betel leaf wrapped around a areca nuts, slaked lime and other condiments – which were supposed to have a addictive, extremely mild narcotic effects. Was fairly common in Bengal then.

I also found out that Joy Moitra was the cashier for the Durga Puja Committee. However, he had to go somewhere else at that moment.

Not to be outdone, I went back to the same mandap the next day again. And hit pay dirt… saw this tall young gentleman (his dad was very tall) and asked him if he was Joy. I was overjoyed to hear his answer. Found out that his mom is still around and lives with him. Again, the same house for over 50 years!!!

As you can imagine, we walked up to his house and predictably had a blast with his mom remembering the good old days.

Walking back, I mused how I miss those previous generation folks who were such great personal examples and guides for me when I was very young and growing up. Most of them have gone, one by one. But, even the ones that are still around – most are feeble and ailing – I do not think I have made enough effort to meet them, reconnect with thme, talk to them and say Thank You!

Yesterday, I was able to say Thank You to Moitra-Kakima!!

I had two great intersection points from my trip to the Durga Puja in my old neighborhood. This is the first one.

There were these two young kids – much younger than me – that lived in a house absolutely opposite end of our street from us. We were the first house on the right. They were the last house on the left. Although we used to play soccer in a field next to their house, we never played together because they were much younger.

I also remember they were both students of my mother in the local primary school. During one of those phone conversations with old friends much later, I had found out that they still live in the same house!! And are a big part of the local Durga Puja arrangements.

After reaching the Puja “mandap”, I noticed four adults sitting in a chair by the adjoining pond. Tried to see if I could recognize any of them as Pintu or Sintu. No luck. So, I went ahead and asked them if there was a Pintu or a Sintu nearby.

Of course!!

They immediately pointed me to one gentleman inside the mandap. As you can imagine, one by one, I met the two brothers who instantly remembered us moment I gave them our names. The icing on the cake was to meet their mom – our Bhattacharya Kakima!! Kakima and I sat down and talked for a long time of the old days and what happened to the whole neighborhood folks.

That was an incredible walk down memory lane!

For a person like me who is an anachronism in so far as writing instruments are concerned, it is difficult to not marvel at somebody like Karan Dhir.

I lazily strolled into Terminal 1 of Mumbai airport a bit early for my maiden flight to Durgapur. I had flown out of Durgapur once and that was three months back but never into. My hope was to score my first delicious masala dosa this trip in the food stall inside the terminal.

Instead, like a fait accompli, I soon found myself scanning the fountain pens at the William Penn shop. There was nobody else other than an unassuming young gentleman at the counter. With who, I struck up a conversation. And was soon amazed by his knowledge of fountain pens.

I apologized for taking too much of his time. He would have nothing of it. He talked about how he comes across fountain pen collectors once in a while and can’t help exchange information and learn new things.

We went over to my website and checked out my collection – the bamboo pens, the glass pens, the quilt pens and of course the modern fountain pens. He taught me about some of the more modern Indian pen brands and we went over quite a few of the pens in the store.

I told him how I carry two fountain pens always in my bag. He stunned me by reaching into his bag and fishing out a hooded nib style Hero pen. You may remember how I had collected one of these. It has a very sentimental value to me. That was a gift my mom had received when she became a teacher!!

I was suitably impressed that in modern day and times when even keyboards are giving way to touchscreens, an young man like Karan Dhir still has a passion for classic instruments like the fountain pen.

I finally landed up picking up a fountain pen to add to my collection. And a few new writing pads for the coming year.

I must have made an impression on him. He insisted on gifting me a fountain pen from his side. I got a feeling no doubt like my mom had with her pen.

“I do not often meet collectors like you sir. Please accept this from my side.”

That was a surprise that started this whole trip of surprises!!