Dhan 'Taurus'
Dhan Teras was imported to Kolkata by the now-so-predominant Marwari andGujrati communities. The Tamilians and the North Indians had their supporttoo in favor of this custom, where buying precious metal means you areinviting prosperity. But probably no one ever imagined that it will begrabbed with such euphoria by the Kolkata Bengalees that the importers wouldlose control over it forever.
20th October was one such day. The otherwise nondescript Bengali commoner showed their bullishness for the second time in the year (the first instance was that of the Durga Pujas) by head-dashing their way into jewellery shops all over West Bengal and especially Kolkata.
This year, Suparna, after a long wait since 1993, has given herself to thetemptation of buying jewellery for a holy cause ( and then flaunt it at parties). She was continuously insisting me for the last couple of days to goto the jewellery shop and finally, I gave in too (did not want to create more tension, though I really do not like jewellery.)
As I was coming from office, I told her to be there at Anjali, one of thenow-famous ornament makers of Kolkata, and that I would join her there. Amitabh, my office colleague, was also with me (he is marrying in Jan, so definitely has compulsions here, you know?).
The first shock was when we reached Anjali.
There were about 200 people standing in two long queues outside the shop, on the footpath! And the queue is for GOLD!!! Who saysIndia is a country of poor?
Hawkers vending tea/coffee/jhalmuri/peanuts were making brisk business and there was a policeman, specially posted there to ensure that there is no untoward incident.
After being there for a short while, we decided that enough is enough and standing in this queue would not do much good to my already damaged left knee. Suparna suggested that we go to a PC Chandra showroom nearby, which must not have this huge rush. We obliged. After a 10 minute futile walk to find out the showroom, we discovered that we were pretty close to it once but did lose way. We reached the shop, and there we were, standing behing100 people. What luck! Only 100 people on a Dhanteras day in a queue?
The excitement gradually came down as I discovered we have move only about 4 feet in the queue in about 15 minutes time. I was suggesting that probably the people presently shopping inside must all be snobs and hence taking too much time to choose things, and then, all of a sudden, the queue started moving. Amitabh meanwhile had gone to fetch some bottled water and also brought a candy bar along with it. We were inside in about another 25 minutes.
Inside, in approximately 400 square feet, there were 150 people. the diamond jewellery counter was relatively less crowded. However, other counters, especially those which were selling the 'Goldlite' brand, were looking like free bread counters in post liberalised Russia.
After being party to one hour of knudges and grudges and stamping and shouting and mingling and free sex for some, we came out, victorious, with a ring in the hand. We were lucky, as we could see people going back empty handed, without having the priviledge to buy something, as either they were out of budget or the things they came looking for went out of stock.
Amitabh was so excited, he stopped on the way at a Gangulibagan shop to buy two Silver coins as well!
Should we call it the Dhan 'Tras' (Tras is the Bengali of fear)?
Dhan Teras was imported to Kolkata by the now-so-predominant Marwari andGujrati communities. The Tamilians and the North Indians had their supporttoo in favor of this custom, where buying precious metal means you areinviting prosperity. But probably no one ever imagined that it will begrabbed with such euphoria by the Kolkata Bengalees that the importers wouldlose control over it forever.
20th October was one such day. The otherwise nondescript Bengali commoner showed their bullishness for the second time in the year (the first instance was that of the Durga Pujas) by head-dashing their way into jewellery shops all over West Bengal and especially Kolkata.
This year, Suparna, after a long wait since 1993, has given herself to thetemptation of buying jewellery for a holy cause ( and then flaunt it at parties). She was continuously insisting me for the last couple of days to goto the jewellery shop and finally, I gave in too (did not want to create more tension, though I really do not like jewellery.)
As I was coming from office, I told her to be there at Anjali, one of thenow-famous ornament makers of Kolkata, and that I would join her there. Amitabh, my office colleague, was also with me (he is marrying in Jan, so definitely has compulsions here, you know?).
The first shock was when we reached Anjali.
There were about 200 people standing in two long queues outside the shop, on the footpath! And the queue is for GOLD!!! Who saysIndia is a country of poor?
Hawkers vending tea/coffee/jhalmuri/peanuts were making brisk business and there was a policeman, specially posted there to ensure that there is no untoward incident.
After being there for a short while, we decided that enough is enough and standing in this queue would not do much good to my already damaged left knee. Suparna suggested that we go to a PC Chandra showroom nearby, which must not have this huge rush. We obliged. After a 10 minute futile walk to find out the showroom, we discovered that we were pretty close to it once but did lose way. We reached the shop, and there we were, standing behing100 people. What luck! Only 100 people on a Dhanteras day in a queue?
The excitement gradually came down as I discovered we have move only about 4 feet in the queue in about 15 minutes time. I was suggesting that probably the people presently shopping inside must all be snobs and hence taking too much time to choose things, and then, all of a sudden, the queue started moving. Amitabh meanwhile had gone to fetch some bottled water and also brought a candy bar along with it. We were inside in about another 25 minutes.
Inside, in approximately 400 square feet, there were 150 people. the diamond jewellery counter was relatively less crowded. However, other counters, especially those which were selling the 'Goldlite' brand, were looking like free bread counters in post liberalised Russia.
After being party to one hour of knudges and grudges and stamping and shouting and mingling and free sex for some, we came out, victorious, with a ring in the hand. We were lucky, as we could see people going back empty handed, without having the priviledge to buy something, as either they were out of budget or the things they came looking for went out of stock.
Amitabh was so excited, he stopped on the way at a Gangulibagan shop to buy two Silver coins as well!
Should we call it the Dhan 'Tras' (Tras is the Bengali of fear)?
