My second stint in Calcutta was more enjoyable. For one, I was now a confirmed executive at J. Thomas and through this prism Calcutta looked different! The Darbaans in the office treated you with more respect. Earlier they humoured you as a kind of ‘babalog’ (kid). The clerical staff of 30 years or more addressed me as Mr. John, the rest would address me as ‘Sir’. At first this felt a little awkward but I soon got used to it.

The staff at JT’s was the engine that ran the mother ship. They were part of a strong Union and with the Communist Party of India getting entrenched in West Bengal our staff had to be handled with kid gloves.

JT not only provided lunch for the executives but also its clerical staff members. The food in the staff kitchen was often more interesting than what was served in the Lunch Room and many of us opted for dishes from that kitchen!

I believe one of the terms of agreement with the Union was that Fish would be provided with lunch each day. Once, there was a strike by the fishmongers of Calcutta. They were demanding an increase in rates which the government was resisting. The fishmongers retaliated by destroying each day’s supply to create an artificial shortage of fish in the market. This stand-off lasted a week, but JT honoured its commitment to the staff and flew in fish from Assam every day!

Harish Parekh (HMP), my senior colleague, arranged for me to share a flat with someone he knew at the Calcutta Electric Company. This guy stayed in an apartment in Alipore. Like everywhere else, where you lived mattered. Alipore, for instance, was a better address than Dharamtalla!

This accommodation worked wonderfully as the guy I shared the apartment with was an engineer on a night shift. So each of us had the unfettered use of the entire apartment when we were home! We had a Bihari cook who catered to our individual tastes. My early years growing up in Patna endeared me to the cook and he would make wonderful Bihari dishes for me.

One day while I was in our Tasting Room on the 5^th floor, a Darbaan came over and said, “Apko Liddle sahib salaam diya hai!” I ran down to the 3^rd floor office of Tony Liddle, a British Director of J. Thomas & Co.

“Nice to have you back Philip!”
“Happy to be back, Tony!”
“I say Philip, you were seen on a Tram last night!”
“Yes Tony, I was heading to New Market.”
“It’s not done, you know!” said Tony, his jovial face turning sombre.
“Well Tony, I don’t have a car!”
“Really!?” And our meeting was over.

Later in the day I got a call from the Garage department asking me to pick up the green Standard Pennant allotted to me. From that day onwards, I did not have to worry about cars, fuel and anything associated with road transportation. The company handled everything.

As a result, I never learned much about cars. I did not even know how to change a tyre, I am ashamed to say. One Saturday evening while I was out somewhere, my car had a flat tire. I pulled the car to the side, locked it and took a taxi home. On Monday morning, I called the Garage (at JT) and reported the matter. Someone came, collected the key, and that evening the car was washed and cleaned, puncture fixed, and ready for me to drive home!

My fellow juniors were Deepak Sircar, and Ranabir Sen. Deepak looked a lot like Joy Mukherjee, the Calcutta heartthrob in Bollywood. Deepak, therefore had fans all over that went right up to the Bhutan Royal Palace. Of course Lana had not come into his life and he was fancy free. We were close to one another and Deepak was my drink buddy. HMP was also a bachelor then and put up with our frequent visits to raid his Bar.

I can’t forget a rather long spell of ‘celebration’ one weekend at Firpos after which, Deepak and I went to Waldorf, the Chinese restaurant on Park Street for lunch. They were closing but we managed to get our toe in and ordered lunch. I drove home, and lay down for my Saturday siesta. I woke up when I heard a knock on the door, to see my Bihari cook holding a tray with Tea, and the Monday morning newspaper!

Deepak later married beautiful Lana. Unfortunately, he passed away in his prime and I was very sorry to have lost my good friend.

Ranabir on the other hand, was of more sober disposition. As a school boy he had excelled in cricket. He was the opening batsman for West Bengal in the Ranji Trophy, India’s national tournament, while his older brother had played for India! Rono continued his cricket training after joining JT but soon realised that he had to make a career choice. In those days cricketers hardly made any money and he wisely chose a career with J. Thomas & Co, over the sport. That was the right choice because he rose to be the Burra Sahib at JT!

Rono had joined J.Thomas straight from North Point, a top Darjeeling school. He was already going steady with his childhood sweetheart, Doel. He took me to meet her a few times. She was spunky, pretty, and an interesting conversationalist. They celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary in May this year, while my wife and I had completed our 50th six months earlier.

I hung out a lot with my St. Stephen’s friend Vijay Crishna, who worked with the freight brokers, Blackers. We were passionate about theatre and spent time with the stage productions of The Amateurs – which had Amitab Bacchan, Zia Ahmed, Vimal and Kamal Bhagat as some of its members. Vijay introduced me to a new entrant to the Calcutta stage, Victor Banerjee, with whose cousin I was to do business later in life.

They say that Calcutta grows on you. That is a true statement. The city was the first choice for any young man coming out of a good college and wanting to start a career. What had started by the East India Company a couple of centuries earlier had made Calcutta the last vestige of the Raj. The Communists who took power in Bengal, after the Congress freedom fighters and finished their term,  held on to power for the longest unbroken period. They had world class stalwarts like Jyoti Basu who was the political father figure of Bengal for almost thirty years! During this period Calcutta was the cheapest place to live in India.  While I was always broke in Cochin, I had money to spare while living in Calcutta!

Unfortunately, the labour movement and an indolent bureaucracy caused a flight of capital from Calcutta over the years.