Not that this blog was meant to be mallu-centric, but I couldn't resist this one!
http://www.indianpad.com/story/86694
Enjoy!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
Jamshedpur's Century
I didn’t believe that my grandfather knew of any place further away than he could travel on his cycle. Yeah, sure, he’d told us stories of his trips to various places: countries, provinces, but they were just that – stories. Right?
So, a couple of decades ago, I didn’t expect him to know much about small town I was going to. I got ready to explain to him; “Hmmm… I’ve got my admission to XLRI”. Casual opening, like. You know. Whatever.
“XLRI?” cries the old man. “Jamshedpur? Bihar? Thugs! Rapists! Murderers! What do you want to go there for?”
Obviously, he was expecting to see the reaction that he did; he was rocking with laughter the next second. “Got you! Congratulations, of course, but remember where the institute is; Jamshedpur will be spotless, but Bihar waits just outside”. Too true. Bihar waited just metres from the gates of Tata Steel, where the smooth road of Jamshedpur crumbled into lawless rocky paths.
The simple explanation is that Bihar* is thousands of years old, but Jamshedpur is new. Just a hundred years old, now, in 2007. When I saw it for the first time, it was much younger, of course and I believe, not as well known as it is today. And I say that with conviction, because, during the first 15 years of my life, Jamshedpur came to my attention for just a couple of reasons. Keenan Stadium and Gerald Durell. It was Durell who caught my attention first: for a boy, Corfu and Jamshedpur were but a couple of pages away from each other. It must have been a great city, Jamshedpur, if a kid born there could get to find and keep such exotic wild animals!!
But then, it must have been a small city too; proof in the way Gordon Greendige and Sir Vivian Richards baptized its cute little cricket stadium with a blaze of 4s and 6s. No big city would dare have the revenge-seeking West Indies play in a stadium that seemed to be built for friendly matches between local school teams.
As I grew up, Jamshedpur grew, too. The animals went away and were replaced by images of molten steel being beaten into the shape of trucks, under the hungry eyes of wannabe managers. But when the Bokaro Steel City Express from Madras stopped at the Tatanagar Junction on a wet July day, all images were mixed up together, wild animals, towering sixers, steel rods, trucks and entrance-exam flash cards.
On the way from the station to XL, new images slotted in; a sign saying ‘Hotel Boulevard – Sunset Bar’, followed immediately by one opposite saying ‘AT Daw & Co., Gunmakers’. My grandfather’s words came rushing back. Such things! Right on the main road!! But then, all those thoughts were wiped away in the thrill of meeting new people. Those insouciant worldly-wise Bombaywallahs, the brash, loudmouthed Delhiites, the snooty Calcuttans sniffing disdain at those of lower intellect….. In the middle of all that, one thought. “Jampot has brought us together”.
In the two decades since, Jamshedpur has become much more famous. As the staging ground for the takeover of Corus. As the birthplace of Maddy and Priyanka Chopra. As the latest destination for Air Deccan. For the only ODI that India has won at the Keenan. For continuing to keep the state outside its doors. For being South Asia’s representative in the Global Compact Cities programme. At least, now, there is no reason so trivial that it cannot catch my attention.
But above all that, there’s the one thought: “Jampot has brought us together”. And that’ll stay on for ever, Jamshedpur bringing together all those guys who spent just two years living there, but left their hearts behind for ever, for all the centuries to come!
[*Yes, yes, Jamshedpur is in Jharkhand. I know. But this was a couple of decades ago, remember? Not only has Jamshedpur grown up, it has grown out!]
So, a couple of decades ago, I didn’t expect him to know much about small town I was going to. I got ready to explain to him; “Hmmm… I’ve got my admission to XLRI”. Casual opening, like. You know. Whatever.
“XLRI?” cries the old man. “Jamshedpur? Bihar? Thugs! Rapists! Murderers! What do you want to go there for?”
Obviously, he was expecting to see the reaction that he did; he was rocking with laughter the next second. “Got you! Congratulations, of course, but remember where the institute is; Jamshedpur will be spotless, but Bihar waits just outside”. Too true. Bihar waited just metres from the gates of Tata Steel, where the smooth road of Jamshedpur crumbled into lawless rocky paths.
The simple explanation is that Bihar* is thousands of years old, but Jamshedpur is new. Just a hundred years old, now, in 2007. When I saw it for the first time, it was much younger, of course and I believe, not as well known as it is today. And I say that with conviction, because, during the first 15 years of my life, Jamshedpur came to my attention for just a couple of reasons. Keenan Stadium and Gerald Durell. It was Durell who caught my attention first: for a boy, Corfu and Jamshedpur were but a couple of pages away from each other. It must have been a great city, Jamshedpur, if a kid born there could get to find and keep such exotic wild animals!!
But then, it must have been a small city too; proof in the way Gordon Greendige and Sir Vivian Richards baptized its cute little cricket stadium with a blaze of 4s and 6s. No big city would dare have the revenge-seeking West Indies play in a stadium that seemed to be built for friendly matches between local school teams.
As I grew up, Jamshedpur grew, too. The animals went away and were replaced by images of molten steel being beaten into the shape of trucks, under the hungry eyes of wannabe managers. But when the Bokaro Steel City Express from Madras stopped at the Tatanagar Junction on a wet July day, all images were mixed up together, wild animals, towering sixers, steel rods, trucks and entrance-exam flash cards.
On the way from the station to XL, new images slotted in; a sign saying ‘Hotel Boulevard – Sunset Bar’, followed immediately by one opposite saying ‘AT Daw & Co., Gunmakers’. My grandfather’s words came rushing back. Such things! Right on the main road!! But then, all those thoughts were wiped away in the thrill of meeting new people. Those insouciant worldly-wise Bombaywallahs, the brash, loudmouthed Delhiites, the snooty Calcuttans sniffing disdain at those of lower intellect….. In the middle of all that, one thought. “Jampot has brought us together”.
In the two decades since, Jamshedpur has become much more famous. As the staging ground for the takeover of Corus. As the birthplace of Maddy and Priyanka Chopra. As the latest destination for Air Deccan. For the only ODI that India has won at the Keenan. For continuing to keep the state outside its doors. For being South Asia’s representative in the Global Compact Cities programme. At least, now, there is no reason so trivial that it cannot catch my attention.
But above all that, there’s the one thought: “Jampot has brought us together”. And that’ll stay on for ever, Jamshedpur bringing together all those guys who spent just two years living there, but left their hearts behind for ever, for all the centuries to come!
[*Yes, yes, Jamshedpur is in Jharkhand. I know. But this was a couple of decades ago, remember? Not only has Jamshedpur grown up, it has grown out!]
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