“It wasn’t so much a hotel as a framed picture. In the alluring curves was not the arrogance of modern skyscrapers but the stamp of ancient aristocracy. Like a beautiful bride’s bracelet, the neon light glinted in the darkness. It had three bands – green at the extremities and red in the middle; the flirtatious winking was limited to the green, while the red was like the unblinking eye…”

Chowringhee is a pleasant surprise, a delight from the archives of Bengali literature which hadn’t found its way to English reading audiences for a long time until the author Sankar’s works were finally translated, by Arunava Sinha, in recent decades. Sometimes overlooked in compendiums of great Bengali literature, perhaps because of this very reason, I hope his work is found out by many more readers. Of course, this is helped by the fact that some of his work has been brought to the big screen by none other than that doyen of Indian cinema, Satyajit Ray. 

A young man, a stand-in for the author, finds himself at the crossroads of life at the beginning of the book. His relatively stable and pleasing job as a clerk to the benevolent last English barrister in India has been lost owing to the death of said barrister and he doesn’t have a clue on where to turn to for an upturn in his fortunes. A chance encounter with an acquaintance, Byron, who is a private detective, puts him on the path to employment in the world-famous Shahjahan hotel, initially in place of the runaway secretary Rosie, and later a permanent position behind the desk at the reception. It is a window to a fascinating world for the young Sankar, as he learns to deal with all hues of guests and events and form some indelible connections with the various employees of the hotel. There is Bose-da, head receptionist and Sankar’s mentor who becomes a close friend as he instructs him on the ways of the hotel’s world. The hotel manager, Marco Polo, has his own history of love and loss which reflects in his behaviour at times, while the wantaway Rosie who comes back is a surprising conflux of emotions and actions. There is Jimmy the steward who is next in line for the manager’s job and who gives Sankar his first onerous task of typing down the menu cards for lunch, as well as the ultimately despondent figures of Karabi, the alluringly vulnerable hostess, and Gomez, the musician from Goa. Then there is Gurberia, banished because of an error to serving the hotel staff who stay in less finer accommodations on the terrace, and the linen controller, Nityahari, forever bemoaning his fate as a Brahmin reduced to cleaning up other people’s filth.

Apart from hotel life, the book does a good job providing a look into the world of 1950’s Calcutta, both cosmopolitan and a melting pot of different peoples and cultures. Two of the visitors who affect Sankar deeply, include a cabaret dancer, Connie, and her diminutive helper, for whose shows there is a fervor of anticipation amongst the junta of the city but who has her own melancholy backstory, as well as a Dr. Sutherland from WHO, whose interest in the history of a particular tragic couple with links to the Shahjahan has its own poignant reasons. The people who make up the guest list include some of the wealthiest and most influential of the time and have their own sneaky secrets which come to the fore within the hotel’s walls. The people thronging the halls, both employees and visitors, include a multi-cultural set, including Europeans like Marco Polo and Jimmy, but this appears to have been a staple of the time-period in Calcutta.

The book was published in the original Bengali in 1962, but the themes and tales told seem to have a relevance which hold true even today. There is a tenderness in the way Sankar paints his characters and this helps the readers too in connecting to and caring about them, irrespective of how unsympathetic some of their actions maybe at times. I was compelled to finally pick this one up on account of an impending first trip to Kolkata, but this is a delightful read on any account, one which should enthrall readers from any part of the world. I can’t wait to read some more of the author’s works.