The stark contrast called ‘West Bengal’
Usually when you enter a corporate set up, you have something called an induction program where you are acquainted with the general know how of the place you will be working for or the work place culture as some people prefer to call it. The induction exercise includes everyone from the trainees ,the new consultants to the front desk staff. They tell you how to greet, how to talk , how to groom etc. which I suppose is mainly for the front desk staff because we doctors couldn’t be more disinterested.
When it came to trainees, most of us had a mind of our own or rather we dressed like ourselves and not like someone about to make the next grand appearance on a corporate couture cover(if there was one). Most of our senior colleagues were dressed to impress though. Stylish would be an understatement for some.
There is one rule I diligently followed which is ‘Wear your doctor’s coat at all times’. It came with it perks. No one could see much of what you were wearing underneath it. Secondly all the stationary made its way into the coat pocket(which was deeper than a magicians hat). The phone, the patient list, reports, pen, lunch money, hospital ID, all of it stayed on your person at all times. In other words, it was swindle proof. Thirdly for all other reasons people actually wear a coat for.
There were a few stalwarts who chose to bend the rules and some others who ditched it completely. One was my immediate senior whom I jokingly called ‘Stud’ because he never bothered wearing the coat in-spite of numerous warnings. Next was my batchmate who ducked into the adjacent patient’s room every time the medical superintendent came on rounds and ran at full speed from one ward to the other but still chose to ditch the coat mandate. My colleague two years my senior topped the dressing down list. He had a coat on at all times except that his coat was a work of art. Like a Picasso painting you could see blotches of pink, blue, fluorescent green of all shapes and forms adorning that white backdrop and he couldn’t care any less.
Come winter time, considering the place can get very chilly, most of the hospital was now suited up which made us feel like lesser mortals even more. There were some who dressed more simply but were ostentatious in other departments. My mentor for instance carried a Mont Blanc pen with him at all times. He spent a considerable amount of time giving that thing a shake and a jolt. The refill seldom worked. My simple ball point ones on the contrary worked just fine and I made sure to offer it to him every time he pulled that maneuver.
My Picasso colleague on the other hand again unintentionally challenged the status quo by never carrying a pen with him. He borrowed those colorful ones from the nursing staff(the ones they used for charting) and did most of the paper work using that. This dude was a class apart.
Just like the hospital, outside too Kolkata was just that, a stark contrast of both flamboyance and simplicity. It didn’t matter how well they suited up, they remained rooted to their culture whether it was Rabindra sangeet or the 10 day extravaganza of Durga pujo. Even many of their their movies depict the same. Their women are graceful and poised, their men are stoic and aristocratic, there is an old world charm to the surroundings with British colonial architecture but Bengali music playing in the backdrop. From local football matches to hoisting the under 17 FIFA World Cup, Bongs sure lived it to the fullest.
It didn’t matter how good their conversational skills in English were, they made it a point to converse only in Bengali and if you didn’t know the language then you had to learn it. Your mentors, your colleagues, your patients all more often than not spoke in Bengali. The mandate was clear, when in Bengal be a Bengali. So, that is what we did. We learnt the language.
That is Bengal for you. Simple yet grandiose. Learning Bengali had been on my bucket list for a long time. I finally ticked it off.
