Okay, so we got ourselves a bottle of Chianti after much jostling. We come home to my sister’s place and realize the obvious. Nobody drinks wine here. So, nobody has the need for a wine opener. My sister, of course, proudly fished out the most rusted-out beer bottle opener I have ever seen from a long forgotten corner of her kitchen. Again, to my sister, there is very little difference between beer and wine. They are just bad things.
Risking the ire of every oenophile of this world, I had to resort to a screwdriver, a tea strainer and some basic physics of pressure management. Again, where there is a will, there has to be a way – regardless of how inelegant it is 🙂

The easy part for my brother, brother-in-law and myself was to decide to have a glass of wine (or two) without going to our usual smoke-filled restaurant.
Problem #1 was How to secure a bottle of wine. My BIL who lives here was of no help whatsoever. So, we went around asking people. Some kept beer and scotch (by far the most popular drinks in India) but nobody had wine. Finally we managed to find out a guy who was reputed to have the most varied stock of alcohol.
Once we reached there, his shop looked far less like a shop and far more than one of those prison grills that you get to talk to a prisoner through. There was exactly one small opening in the grill and a whole lot of Indians surrounding it without any sense of queue discipline. “Crowd sourcing” took a very different meaning in this context 🙂
Eventually my brother got sick and tired of my manners, ruthlessly elbowed a few folks around and literally burrowed his way to the front. The three of us heaved a collective sigh of relief when the rather rotund and profusely sweating shopkeeper behind the grill affirmed that he indeed had red wine.
Then he went inside for a few minutes to retrieve something which has not evidently sold for years. By the way, while he was gone, none of the folks in the back of the crowd had any idea that he was gone. Nonetheless, they kept yelling their orders 🙂 I have no idea to what good.
Eventually, he brought out something that looked somewhat like a wine bottle duly covered with a layer of dust that would do any pollen-ridden car on a Atlanta spring day very proud. However, problem #1 was solved. And it was a 2011 Ruffino Chianti. Who was I to complain? 🙂

“Kalbaisakhi”!! Quick sharp thunderstorms in Kalyani in the late afternoon. Just like in Atlanta! Except I don’t have to worry about any flight delays today!!!

Cannot believe I am saying this, but the new Calcutta airport is more impressive than the Doha airport. I was in this airport in March and reported how nice it is – but I came in as a domestic passenger. As an international passenger today, from stepping out from the aeroplane to getting out of the airport took all of three minutes (admittedly I had no checking luggage to wait for).
But in the same situation, Doha took from aeroplane to transit lounge almost 30 minutes! Not sure why but Doha does not have aero bridges. Not only did we have to get into the buses in 105 degrees temp, the bus went and dropped first the non-transit passengers – which is on one end of the airport and then dropped the transit passengers – which is on another end. You would think with all the connecting flights, they would do it the other way round.
Not impressed with Doha at all. I will get a second chance to make another impression a week from now. Will see how that works out. Meanwhile back to warm and muggy Kolkata.
On my way to Kalyani now where my parents are….

First time flying Qatar Airways. Need some getting used to the pleasantness of the airlines staff (very typical of most Asian airlines). But some of their attention is throwing me off.
So, this young sweet lady takes me from the door to my seat and offers to put my suitcase up on the bin. Somewhat indignant, I thanked her and to make light of the situation said that I only look old. I am not that old and I can lift the suitcase.
Not to be outdone, she asked if she can get me my pajamas !!!
I am having a WTF moment if course! What does she mean if she can get me my pajamas? A few moments later, still more confused than thoughtful, I said “Sure”!
Oh! Boy!! Did I ever get myself in trouble. For she continued with her onslaught – “What size sir? Small, Medium, Large, Xtra Large or Xtra Xtra Large”. Finally, I broke down. I sat down on my seat and explained “Ma’m, the only person who knows the right answer to that question is in Atlanta. My wife does all my shopping.”
She was sympathetic. She said I should be Large but she will give me an Xtra Large so that I will be comfortable.
A few minutes and a quick trip to the plane restroom later, here I am flopping around like a scarecrow in my oversized clothes getting ready to sink in my seat 🙂

I am chewing airline food (talk about a oxymoron). Evidently Niki is cooking up a Sunday delicacy at home…