O Flower of Scotland

This is for Baiduriya, Tara and Rudra.

Once there lived in Greece  a king who had a son called Gathelus. Prince Gathelus was handsome and brave, but he was also wild and headstrong. He was frequently disobedient and eventually the King had to banish Gathelus from his land. When Gathelus learnt that he was banished, he took a ship along with all his wild and brave friends and sailed away to Egypt.When they arrived in Egypt the Pharaoh greeted them kindly. The Pharaoh was in the midst of a battle, and he needed young soldiers to fight for him. He hoped that these young knights would help him fight his enemies. Soon Gathelus and his friends defeated the enemy and the Pharaoh gave them large estates as rewards. However, Gathelus wanted to marry the beautiful Princess Scota, and the Pharaoh eventually gave consent.

Gathelus lived in Egypt for many years and grew rich and prosperous. He ordered that his family take the name of his wife and be called Scots.After some years he gathered a great fleet of ships and with his family and a huge company of people, he sailed across the sea in search of another country. After many months and after weathering many storms he arrived at the shore of Spain. Gathelus and his company were tired and exhausted, but the Spaniards were not willing to give them shelter. There followed a fierce battle in which the Spaniards were defeated. Gathelus and his Scots wished to live peacefully in Spain and gradually they learnt to speak the new language, adapt to the new country and lived in peace for many years.The Scots grew to be still richer and greater than they were in Egypt. They became so powerful that once again the Spaniards were jealous and would not allow the Scots to stay in their land.Two great battles ensued, and the Scots realised that it was their immense wealth, military skills and the wisdom of Gathelus that was coming in the way of permanent settlement in Spain.

Again they set sail. This time in search of a Green Island across the sea. Gathelus with his two sons Hiberus and  Himecus and all his family and troop landed on Green Island, The Scots found the inhabitants of the Island gentle and kindly. Hiberus and Himecus opened business and trade in the Green Island. They learnt the value of agriculture in this new land of soft soil and plentiful rainfall. The islanders were happy with the Scots, and changed the name of their island to Hibernia. The island is still sometimes called by that name, although we now know it as Ireland. 

For many years the Scots lived in Hibernia. Gathelus died, in time so did Hiberus and after them ruled many kings. At last after many hundreds of years, a prince called Rothsay sailed over to the islands which lay opposite Hibernia, and took possession of them. The island upon which he first landed he called Rothesay, and to this day there is a town of that name on the island of Bute.

The Scots finding these islands fertile and suitable for breeding cattle and sheep, sailed over from Hibernia in greater numbers (with their families) till they inhabited all the little islands and also a large part of the great mainland, which was then called Albion. After several years, the northern part of Albion came to be called the land of Scots, or Scotland, just as the southern part was called the land of Angles, or England.

The story of Prince Galthelus is not a fable. Long ago when people spoke of the Scots, they meant the people who lived in Ireland. And of course Scotland took its name from those who came from Ireland and settled in today's Scotland.

Summer of 1971

Paris is perhaps the worlds most beautiful city. There is beauty so evenly spread out. It's in the air, the sky, the wrought iron balconies.When I was very small, I was taken for afternoon walks to a nearby park by Ma. I was two or three years old then and don't remember much except that the air smelt fresh every afternoon, after the drizzle and the park had the most beautiful railing.

However, nothing to beat the Summer of 1971 I was in Paris on a shoe string budget. Fresh out of School, not yet in College. My Dad thought I was too young for College. My Ma thought it was asking for trouble to keep me at home for months on end. Hence, I was packed off to Europe.

I stayed with a crazy French family, who threw me out every morning at 9 sharp. I was expected to be back by bedtime. So, I walked the streets of Paris with my high school French and an air of very false arrogance. Of course, Paris was overwhelming, but why on earth would people be allowed to understand my apprehension. I walked along the Seine, I walked in the rain, I walked in the parks, I walked the Louvre several times over. Paris roads are confusing, the language rather awkward, the food was expensive, but I survived on fresh air and love  ..... I loved Paris.

One evening the Paris sky was streaked with pink and purple clouds and the air was soft. The drizzle had stopped and the city smelt ever so fresh.I sat on the kerb in front of a bistro looking for a food-cart, and there was a table (at the bistro) with a "Biggles" held over a brown head. 

English! 

Bingo! 

I got introduced to Tim over "Biggles goes to War" Tim was a school-leaving Brit, although 2 years older than me. My French was decidedly better, but he had more pocket money. Furthermore, his family paid for his meals, and of course meals can always be shared ..... whoever did not know that? So we latched on to each other  ....free food for me, and my (broken, but better than his) French to get by with. 

Tim actually lived in a garage! This lifestyle was totally new to me. He slept on a dirty mattress with a Slenvo guitar and a mongrel called Daisy .... for warmth, he assured me. I was 14, Tim was 16 and we went around Paris exploring. We had all the time in the world. We walked and we sang, Tim played the guitar ("Love me Do" most often) and got a few francs on the Montparnasse.Going up and down the butte  (of Montmartre) was a lark for us. We haunted the  chaotic La Rive Gauche till late evening with the artists and the Sorbonne students. The Boulevard Saint Germain fascinated me. On the Right Bank we marvelled at the lights of Champs Elysees. Thomas was a waiter at the Moulin Rouge, and he lived near my villa. Of course he took us to his grand restaurant. No food though. No Can Can either.We got caught in the Paris drizzles (Oh! the drizzle in Paris!) and frequently stole bread and fruit and ate it with the cheapest wine,

On warm afternoons we lay flat on the grass at Champs de Mars and took in the blue Parisian sky. One morning, barefoot and barelegged we were wading in the Seine to get to the Isle of the Swans, except  le flics chased us. Daisy, the dog, chased the police away ! Under the bridges of Paris existed a different and exciting world. We loved it. A Gitane went a long way those days and the short stubby Gauloises had us choking. Today, I believe the French prefer Marlboro. Strange !

It was the most idyllic summer. 

Funnily enough we explored Paris from individual perspectives of History and Geography. In a few months time Tim went on to study History and I came back to India to study Geography. We both became Professors. Rather odd that.

My Dad had arranged for me to stay in London with his Danish friend. Tim and I spent a few months in England. The London we explored no longer exists, but what a summer it was! France and England .... mostly on foot. Sometimes on cycles. Definitely on the wings of wonder. 

....

Pice Hotels

What with all this 'fine dining' experience and  'specialty restaurants' the average street-food eater in Calcutta is on the verge of forgetting pice hotels. I heard of this term in the early 60's when my Dad would tell me about the excellent machher jhol-bhat he used to have at Goalonda Ghat, on the ferry. The machh would be ililish of course, straight from the river. This meal would cost him less than one pice in the 1930's. 

When I grew older, and was in college, I went looking for 'pice hotels' in Calcutta. I spent an entire summer walking the streets of Calcutta discovering among other new things, 'pice hotels' There were several near Sealdah Station and Howrah Station. I remember a vegetarian meal in 1972 would be about 2 to 3 rupees. Fish etc would be a little dearer. The food would be hot and served on clean kolapata. In the Sealdah area the Tower Hotel, was not exactly a pice hotel, but I always loved the food there.

The essence of pice-hotel-food is that there is no choice. The question of a la carte menu.does not exist. Fresh vegetables, fish etc are brought from the market everyday. Only a few items cooked and typically all the food is over by 3pm.(The evening meal is a simple roti-sabzi). A basic daal-bhaat and vegetable curry would cost Rs 10 or so in 2000. Rs 15 in 2011. These pice hotels are not fancy, but they are clean, well lit, no offensive crowd and terrifically good service. 

The hotels, which are now obsolete started in the early 1940's primarily to cater to the large influx of shelter-seekers from East Pakistan. The food was always simple and inexpensive, hence the concept of pice hotels stuck around. I have taken Shantam to Tower Hotel and some other similar places around Sealdah. a meal for just Rs 10.!!!

The Young Bengal Hotel at Khidirpur (Karl Marx Sarani) is another pice hotel which has been around since the 1940's. The original owner Tarapada Guha is no more, but his daughter now runs the place. This is now an upgraded  pice hotel. About 40 covers. Plain board tables. Stainless steel ware (washed in hot water and soap), but what excellent food. Rice and daal, Fish curry, vegetable curry. All for under Rs 20. Maybe Rs 25. Squeaky clean, well lit, good food, good service...... what  else are we looking for?

Pice hotels will have a slate at the entrance. On it will be chalked a simple menu.   

Pabda machher jhaal, 

Lau chhingri, 

Posta alu etc etc etc 

With prices. 

 In recent times, there is cooking gas, Aquaguard drinking water, a refrigerator,  There is a clean wash basin with liquid soap, If you have not eaten at a Calcutta pice hotel ..... well, your search for good Bengali food remains incomplete.