A few years back, Shamita had joined one of those social media groups that I was part of. Now, this group was for our elementary school where I studied from first grade to fourth grade. For some reason, I just could not remember Shamita. So, I called her up one day to see if I could jog some old memories. I started by asking her the various teachers’ names who would have taught her. The trouble was I could not relate to any of those names either. And I am pretty sure I remember each and every teacher’s name from the school.

Eventually we sorted it out. She never went to that school. Somebody had invited her to the group by mistake and after looking at some of the other girls’ names, she assumed this was her high school group. We had a good laugh.

She left the group. But of course, I became friends with her. Every birthday, I would chat with her and keep up with her family as they moved from Bhubaneswar back to Durgapur. She had read my blog and had let me know that her husband is equally quirky. Apparently, he too pursues new hobbies from time to time. She called it “keragiri”. We had agreed that I should meet her husband some time.

Which is what I did today. After catching up with all his “keragiri”s (right now, he is into cultivating orchid flowers), I asked Somnath (her husband) – “So, how did you guys meet each other?”

“Oh! it was a cross connection. Like the way you guys have become friends,” he said.
“What?”

So, after about 10 minutes of being totally bemused, this is what I was able to put together. This goes back to 1980. Some of you who lived in Durgapur those days might remember those black rotary phones at home. Life was simple enough that all phone numbers were of 4 digits. The numbers were easy to remember but the calls were difficult to make. There would be a lot of static, accidental three way connections and cross connections which would simply go to the wrong person.

It was during such a cross connection on an otherwise innocuous phone call that Somnath had placed, he found Shamita on the other side. They had no idea who the other person was. Shamita was barely in her 8th grade. Apparently, he liked her voice. And they got chatting. And Shamita gave him her number. (You cannot obviously rely on cross connections in aa deterministic fashion 🙂 )

And that is how their love affair started and continues to this day!!

Pretty crazy how mistaken identities / connections can lead to life time friendships. And more!!

You probably remember Tathagata from my last trip to India when he taught me about the blue gin turning into pink. I had to meet him and pick up something new. I asked him to make an Old Fashioned for me.

Whaat I found out is that he makes his own bitters. It is a fairly interesting process he follows. I also learnt from him a lot more about Angostura bitters. I did not know that it is manufactured in Trinidad and Tobago. (Later found out that it actually originated from Venezuela). I also found out from Wikipedia that there is only one person who knows the whole recipe of Angostura bitters (passed down from family member to family member)!

I had checked into the Westin in Kolkata where I was helped by Nisha – the Front Office Manager. As is my wont, I started talking about how she landed in this job and all that. I was fascinated by her life history. Particularly striking was the number of places she has worked in all over India – often taking risks uncommon for a lady of her age.

“Were you always driven like this?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Who was the biggest influence in your life for you to be like this?”
“My dad. He has always supported me in my decisions.”
“If I met him today and asked him to describe you in three words, what words would he use?”

After thinking for a few minutes, she said…
“Stubborn… empathetic and… free bird”

“How did you become a Front Office Manager?”
“That is what I studied for.”
“You always wanted to be a Front Office Manager?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Why?”
“I love interacting with people. Like you do. And that is the biggest part in the hospitality industry. Especially for Front Office Managers”.
“Got it. So, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to keep growing in my job, get promoted and experience more locations”

“Awesome! Maybe I will see you later in life in some other city or country!!”

By that time I needed to head out to Kalyani. While the occasion was a little sombre – anniversary of my dad’s demise, I could not help reflect on how driven and industrious the younger generations have become. And that is in fitness of things. “Old order changeth yielding place to new”. The New – as I am experiencing it – gives us confidence that the world is always being passed on to better and abler hands…