Betwixt The Final Biryani: Chapter Three “It’s my chapati (and I’ll karai if I want to)…”

You wanna know about Indian Trains and “Sleepers” ???

First Class means er slightly more comfortable than otherwise with a Force nine gale blowing up yer gusset and sharing with 3 other geezers.

It’s a BYOB kinda affair (Bring your own bogroll) though ideally Avoid The Number Two. Though I risked one out of necessity on my final Indian Rail journey…twas ok apart from the broken door, but that’s another Khazi tale…

My first experience post the numerous touristy joys of the Pink City of Jaipur (well pink ISH) and the lakeside city of Udaipur (plus “153 steps to heaven” aka hotel reception) was The Night Train to New Delhi! Well. Couldn’t sleep so finished off my Miriam Margolyes autobiography (fantastic) then wondered what to do over the rest of the 13 hour journey…

In a compartment with infamous Indian Opera Trio “The Three Snorers” performing Nessan Dorma (aka “you ain’t sleeping tonight son”)…. Not one wink I was advised by some online reviewers and they’re absolutely right. Plus there’s the regular up and down the corridor chant of “chai coffee chai, chai coffee tea”)….

Not such smoky problem with my Two tenors and a fiver though. One snored like Pavarotti up a chimney, another like Peter Pears high whining and with a touch of camp (no change there then Opera Fans), and the third guttural yet poignant, intense yet bronchial, and could I be tempted to record it? Nope. My arms were aching too much to press the red button….

My final sleeper example was the “17 hour plus” trip my ultimate desire of this venture, from Delhi to Kolkata to meet my Pilgrimage Duties….this one had three similar co-boarders and 3 courses of food were served in the cabins! I politely declined as my new Best Friend the fab young Animesh had taken me around some of Delhi via the excellent Metro (at my request) and brought me to the Kolkata train supplying me with crunchy edibles and plenty of water… thought best not risk it for any biscuit whatsoever, fearing also that someone else contributing to the longest train I’ve ever seen all consuming curries might just…..er….tip the already odorous balance for the next 2 thirds of a day…..looked good though.. I got two coffees and a digestive, Thora (thanks Alan Bennett) for brekkie.

But “I’m Doctor Sarker, and I’m going to Kolkata” was an interesting cabin gentleman, and the First Class nature though easily disputable from images is quite possibly reasonable, the “beds” firm (but fair), the space available most acceptable and the air conditioning though tempest-like happily countered the 30-35 degrees outside.

My absenting myself from food however is making me VERY peckish as the 17 hour marathon is now declared FOUR HOURS LATE…..

Will I starve or will I goat (curry that is)?

Kolkata then.

It’s been an emotional rollercoaster I’ve never really encountered before in This what I like to call Life.

This Betwixt is therefore appropriately different from all others. (“It’s funny?” Non-Existent Ed.)

Looking back over the previous days here in Kolkata aka Calcutta (as Painter Pal Noel still calls it when he’s not hunting tigers or guzzling g&ts prepared by his punkawallah)…..

Markets and stalls galore, food tables every 50 yards serving dhals and rices and breads, traffic jams and honking 5 a second the noise the noise the smell the noise…begging everywhere (ok I’m a tourist so good target)…

Then a few roads away a bit of pompous Old Empire Injer, vast Roman (or are they Greek?) columns fronting numerous 18th and 19th century Government buildings Post Office HQ Law Courts Barrister Chambers Governor’s Homes, Royal Quarters and some magnificent churches…. and it goes on.

Most importantly: PEACE.

Then it’s two streets down people washing in the streets peeing against the trees and charging at you for money food or to sell you something anything ANYTHING!

Like Vultures they were VULTURES!

But why oh why was I there at all?

Born there in this very city. Emotional heartbreak and heart flutter..all about the family innit?

Visited my Dad’s old cinemas and theatre he managed and even had a drink in the New Empire Bar….this was once a glorious theatre. Downstairs it’s now a KFC.

The cinema The Lighthouse adjacent is now a truly abysmal Dodgy Mart plus….a Burger King.

Thanks Fast Food America for preserving my Heritage.

Oh yes HERITAGE is a word preferred to BRITISH in terms of stuff built and maintained during British Rule and Plunder.

Old Tea and Cake shop Flury’s is still there (I indulged!). The Church where I was baptised and my folks married (St Thomas’) still there too, I visited and feeling guilty rewarded the two chaps who let me in and switched the lights on with Baksheesh….£5 which they needed much more than me I reckon….

The Ganges Holy River (the Hooghly as locally known too) still here, the “engineering marvel” the Howrah Bridge (it’s a bridge) still here traffic gridlocked 24/7 on it.. there’s even a “Floatel” with a bar thank heavens !

And the apartments behind the cinema where I spent my first 8 months in this world are still there and intact.

I had a guide (called Mitra) who took me around a bit inc the grandiose India Museum and very importantly steered me to my Parents’ home and work area which is kinda the “New Market” location, plus he got me into famous cricket ground Eden Gardens where we watched a bit of a game!

And I walked (in 33 - 36 degrees. Did I walk? Yes I did. ) Oh my…best way to experience anywhere methinks and I even got ON A BUS which WAS an experience that 40B was!!

Following Day I also got on a METRO!!!! Everyone was looking at me (I guess I’m worth it)…. 2 stops only Esplanade to Maidan (a huge park nearby)…20p fare, with two youngsters helping me at the Ticket Booth to explain meekly I only wanted A Short Ride…

Tube was fine (all Air Conditioned in Injer, take note Mister Mayor), but better still was the Sunday arvo yes you guessed it beer which followed back at the ranch…

Diwali tomorrow wondering what on Earth to do?

And relax…….

One evening I sat after a hot long day at my hotel bar and apart from the word “Effing” I just wrote this:

“After 17 days in Injer: Effing TukTuks
Effing Old old women in street sending their 4 year old great granddaughter to beg
Effing people following you from market
Effing Women on Metro attempting to pickpocket you
Effing noise and smell of urine and curry constantly
Effing justification of how great Hinduism and associated Gods is
Effing one brand of beer only (quite nice though)
Effing vibe of post apocalypse every city everywhere
Effing misery on most people’s faces
Effing admiration Effing admiration Effing admiration for JUST GETTING ON WITH IT……”

Oh and NEVER ask for Tap water with a meal ha!!!

BUSES AND METRO ? Do me a favour ….fine actually in a hellish kinda way. Like Injer.

Breakfast ok (they never got the hang of eggs. Or coffee. Or juice only canned). They serve lots of Indian breakfast items in every hotel but spiced veggies with stuffed paratha is not really for me….But at least they clean your table 43 times during your eating compared with the least clean the least tidy the most odorous and unpleasant areas on or about the semi destroyed pavements everywhere in this sincerely great great city. Kinda like Injer as a whole really and those elephants in my room are haunting me on a daily if not hourly basis. Mitra my guide says Injer will never “go green” with the population being so huge. It will NEVER happen he says. What about the poverty the squalor the filth the begging the screaming at each other?

That’s part of what Injer is about. The exhibits in the India Museum date back to 10 B.C.E. The rituals and festivals date back to who knows when. My painter pal Noel was here a few weeks ago and loved it by all accounts, the colours and activities of the Puja festival, the people the colours the er, colours.

This place has been a precious dream all of my life.

ON MY LAST FULL DAY IN INJER THEN….

I thought about those documentaries about Modern Injer and how the country will be the World’s Richest in 2035. Then I recalled this modern “retrofuturist” symbol of “New Town” Kolkata called the Biswa Bangla Gate (aka Kolkata Gate). And Lo! Verily we drove and there were motorways sidelined by uber modern apartment blocks and obscenely designed offices and hotels and the enormous contrast to old poverty stricken filth ridden noisy ugly cities of India that I’ve encountered almost exclusively for 21 days is quite shocking, not forgetting the occasion stunning beauty of Hindu and Mughal temples….it’s actually a baffler.

My friend Doc Jeremy has been doing nutrition work most of his life in war torn regions and at the majority of times here I compare the two as being most similar…

So. What an experience….

I have prayed I’d get around to doing this and experiencing the madness the atmosphere the contrasts and the contradictions this whole country expels at you daily and it shocks to see how some people live whether it’s the population the caste (system) the inherent nature of the people and the fact that Injer is projected to have that largest World Economy by 2035.

I am blessed and grateful to have seen it.

Every single thing here in my place of birth and indeed in this country of my birth continues to shock bewilder annoy and in the end just flipping admire …..

I had a chicken Burger King. It was ghastly. Same as everywhere else on the planet.

This has been my longest ever Betwixt and the Final Betwixt the Biryani before moving on to the next bit.

Injer?

I can’t wait to leave.

Christoph, Kolkata October 2025