We had a record turnout at the Botanical Gardens. Peter and Rosie are
back in town for a few weeks. So are Howard and Shanti.
Since I'm hard pressed for time I'll leave you with this description
of Cal streets and lingo... Start practicing your Bengali slang!
There were no charpokas, peepreys or haatis on the streets Wednesday before
last. Except for a few mamas and mastaans, almost everybody stayed home
because it was a hartal. Bouncy break-dancers and slow-moving langras also
had a rest day. Near Howrah and other vantage entry points, CITU sergeants
saw to it that local trains could get no further. Decibel levels fell
drastically, due to the absence of the rattle of Calcutta's bone-shakers
and the barking of minibus conductors. There were no cries of "Aastey
ladies", "Hilakey Chalo" and "Electrikey Chalao". If you've lost me and
you're reaching for a Calictionary, stay right where you are, you'll find
it on this page. Calcuttans on the street, more than any other city, have a
term or a phrase of their own for everything under its scorching sun. No
city can match it for orginality and spontaneity when you talk of a
roadside lexicon. No other citizen in the world has the intensity, the
passion and the sense of humour that the Calcuttan
has. With his turn of phrase he is an Oscar Wilde, Bernard Shaw and Sukumar
Ray rolled into one ? Expressive, Explosive and always Exclusive. For the
uninitiated Calcuttan, here's a handy thesaurus of innovative street
jargon; for the hardcore Calcuttan, it could serve as a ready reckoner.

Mama: policeman. Now you know why you need to stay away from your
"Mamar-bari"!
Peeprays: auto-rickshaws who are multiplying in hundreds and bugging one
and all
Charpokas: Maruti 800s
Matchbox: Calcutta's first generation mini-buses that left you
hunchbacked and stiff-necked.
Haatis: double-decker buses with a 'trunk' in which the driver sits; an
almost extinct species.
Langras: three-legged tempos that limp along and handicap other drivers.
Shahid Minars: speedbreakers. Erecting them has become a trend,
generally after someone has been killed on the spot.
Electrikey Chalao: a bus conductor's coded jargon, telling his driver to
speed-break-speed-break?in order to jerk passengers further in, since
they are all crowding near the entrance.
Hechkee tulchen kano: a passenger's retort to the above. Dada, Fevicol
naa ordinary?: question asked by a 'standing commuter'(usually on a
local train) to a 'sitting' one, wanting to know how far he is going. If
the answer is 'ordinary', the standing commuter will stay right there
waiting to pounce on his seat; if the answer is "fevicol", he will move
away to try his luck with another passenger.
Dada, kee kelchen? Test naa One day: The bus equivalent of above.
Dada, istri korey dilen?: what you tell a passenger who in his hurry to
get off, stamps hard on your toes.
Dada, je akebarey daak-ticket hoye shetey galen: sarcastic comment
targeting Romeos who refuse to budge from the vicinity of the ladies
seats, invariably getting 'stuck', just like a stamp on an envelope
Sandow maashi: a tongue-in-cheek conductor's term describing a
not-so-young lady wearing a sleeveless blouse, a la Govinda.
Half-ladies : a skinny, boyish girl in jeans and T-shirt; the conductor
is in a dilemma!
Dadar kee double ticket naa kee: a passenger's caustic remark to a
grossly overweight fellow passenger who is hogging the seat.
Dada, kon ration-er chaal khaan: this is another version of the rude
comment above.
Aierey, forsha korey dilo: a helpless pickpocket victim's exasperated
exclamation.
Dada, engine-er tuning-ta thik karaan: below-the-belt advice to a fellow
passenger who is snoring loud enough to drive the pigs to market.
Kaar badi-tey aaj moolor char-chari ranna hoyechey, dada: a subtle
comment directed to whom it may concern, in a crowded bus, post a
'sudden whiff in the air