Alighting at the gates of T3, the same place where we had been refused service two years ago at my last blogmeet, I was introduced to Pritam (sweetie-pie according to Swati and not to be confused with the bearded copycat with the mock intellectual look) who has to be the most unthreatening dentist I have ever met. A word about the shirt that swathed my “hefty” frame which seemed to have attracted some notice. It’s a blue beachshirt with pictures of dogs in sunglasses riding bikes: an apposite sartorial choice for a blogmeet I felt. I originally planned to wear knee length shorts to go with it but decided not to because 1) T3 with its anality may find me inappropriately dressed 2) I did not want people ogling my legs and make me feel like a sex object.

Anyhoo, Pritam and I started talking over 2 cups of tea like two lovers long separated and were delighted to discover a slew of common friends. We were joined presently by Rimi Chatterjee, [her account of the blogmeet] , the coolest professor I have seen from JU (a sharp contrast to the fossils we had to bow our heads to) who drives a Maruti Swift and is a storehouse of knowledge from pirates of Chittagong to the national character of Midnaporeans. Presently arrived the ebullient Swati, the queen of Ghatak para representing Kolkata suburbia, who in the best traditions of Bachchanian motherhood/wifeyhood was ordering take-homes for her husband and daughter before she came to the blog table.

Just when we thought that the average age of our table could no longer go up, in came the venerable JAP (whether he had the bottoms of his trousers rolled I know not) reflecting light off his luminous err personality. Swati in her account calls him huggable, an assessment I shall not comment on. My attention was presently diverted by Pritam, pleading with the utterly confused waiter to give him a cup of coffee that he had ordered with the earnestness of a school-kid asking for a pee-pee break —so whether hugs were exchanged between our corpulent seniors I cannot say.

Adda was on in full swing amidst puffs of exotic-smelling smoke which was not interrupted much by the arrival of Teleute, the broken-boned hottie of the blogworld, her extremely poetic-looking friend and then an agitated Arka who it seemed had been, quite unintentionally, given the wrong directions by JAP, an agitation he vented through the occasional use of the most perfectly accented English.

Swati was the first to leave with parcels of packed food. Somewhere in between, we heard JAP tell someone on the cellphone “Jail-e pathabo” (I shall send you to jail) with the sonorous seriousness of a civil servant. A telemarketer we were told. Many things of great importance were discussed and in the unwritten spirit of the blogmeet, the exact details of what they were will not be divulged.

With the departure of the JAP, the discussion winded down. Rimi C dropped many of us at convenient points and had it not been for the scenic route she took, we may never have witnessed a most satisfying street brawl between a taxi-wala and an autowala which was cut short by two of the most empathetic policemen I have seen, one of whom I saw gently patting the crying taxi-driver on his back. Rimi C drove away before I could see the consequent patting of his wallet.

In all, a very nice way to spend an evening. So nice in fact that one wishes to have another one.

[PS 1: Will be in Delhi from 29th to 2nd. How about 30th eveningish in a place close to CR Park for a blogmeet?]

[PS2: Thanks to all those asking for a Mumbai visit. Would love to do that next time I am around.]

I will be in Calcutta from May 13 to May 28, 2007 and it would be a great opportunity to meet new people and renew old acquiantances. So I propose we have a blogmeet (anyone who has an interest in blogs is welcome to attend) on Saturday, May 19th Wednesday 16th, 2007 at 5:00 pm. I leave the location open to suggestion at T3, opposite Park Street Flurry’s. The conversation can be carried out by mail or in the comments section.

Michael Higgins, the amazingly plugged-in blogger whose knowledge of India has to be seen to be believed, came in prepared with small table signs, a “happy birthday” cake and a present for the Ravikiran Rao, who was driving down with Arzan from New York. (I am hoping Michael puts up the complete list of attendees with links—so I am avoiding a full rollcall here). Hands were shaken, introductions exchanged, beer was consumed, chicken tikka masala was devoured (well at least I did) and war stories were exchanged.

Yes Mithun-da was discussed. EM’s tattoo was not. Liberterians Libertarians came up. Libras did not.

Arzan made a compelling case for putting Adsense in my posts so as to cover hosting costs. Incidentally, I hope my readers will not mind if I put a few ads tastefully around —right? Right? Yo hoo….

Chetan gave me a card of appreciation for my blog—-which was a very sweet gesture that melted my heart. And as it usually happens when someone does something so nice, I ended up ogling him for the duration of the time we came back via metro.

To my relief, he did not take my picture.

Till the next time—which I hope shall be sooner than expected.

[Update: Chetan blogs about the meet here and Michael does so here [Pictures here]

Can the persona of the blogger and the person in real life be reconciled? We like Gaurav Sabnis’s blog but do we really like the “Real Gaurav Sabnis” ? You may read Greatbong’s weighty musings but would you care for his actual weight?

With such thoughts reverberating within my demented mind, I walked into the apocalyptically titled “T3″ —-the waiters having a definitive cyborgian air about them. I had seen JAP before—-though it was evident that JAP had left a bigger impression on me than the other way around; he forgot the fact that we had crossed paths before on another continent.

Anyhow, JAP –having seen a few more summers than most of us was seated in the middle holding the entire assemblage together. And me—having occupied a fewmore cubic feet than most of the others, counterbalanced him at the other end.

On my left was seated a rising star of theatre. And some bloggers—still in high school. Acutely conscious of my own age (I was reminded of a question thrown at me by a number of “juniors” at Stonybrook: ” You actually saw Sunil Gavaskar bat?”) I looked to my right and there were first and second year “tanayas” (ladies) from JU and Presi. I wistfully thought of the days I had spent in AC Canteen jharofying their didis many moons ago. Needless to say, I do this any longer—- with age and maturity, I have become more respectable.

The conversation flowed freely—cha and coffee were ordered. After which a bizarre incident took place. The cyborgian waiter suddenly said: “No more coffee” in a definitely Gandhian non-cooperative way. Fortunately, JAP had booked a table at Flury’s across the street and we trooped out.

As we did, I glanced back at the waiter in order to confirm a suspicion I had been harboring for some time based on what I had read in “the Historian”. Imagine my sense of vindication when his white cap moved a little and I saw what I had been expecting to see—-a hidden ponytail. No wonder, he was being rude. He had been possessed by the evil Chicken spirit and thus had as much regard for bloggers as Dracula has for garlic.

T3′s loss was Flury’s gain. Kind of. Conversations carried on along the normal lines of murderous school principals, Moonmoon Sen’s non-mainstream celluloid achievements, mass copying, short tops and “golabondho” jeans, Bhappi Da’s moojik, getting under the table and call girls (which suddenly elicited an enthusiastic response from someone—that individual not being named for fear of causing slander and of consequently getting a notarized email). Samit Basu, the great Duck, blessed the gathering remotely. IIPM was *not* discussed—except a passing word or two.

JAP took pictures of all of us –on the condition that individuals are not identified. Hah…”fat” chance of anyone being able to map me in those pictures !

In all, an extremely pleasant afternoon spent with like-minded people. And yes it does make sense to get to know the people behind the silly monikers—-if only to see how sillier they are in real life.

Here’s looking forward to the next one.