BenFish is the short for Bengal Fisheries
a fast food outlet chain run by the Municipal corporation of Kolkata.
such a specialty outlet which makes all fish products , and only fish products, ranging from fish fries, fish pakoras fish rolls couldn't be missed by anyone who knows about its existence or exists in Kolkata. Among few special specialties that Benfish keeps are fish Kababs, fish Biriyani prawn pickle and bottled dry fish, and i can assure are really a food lover's delight.
however, Benfish outlets are closing down and initially i felt guilty that it was because of the way i had begun to haunt them
However while reading though the information about Benfish on Google i came across the fact that outlets were closing down with great speed due to lack of quality control measures etc and my guilt substantially could be consoled if not completely convinced.
However while reading though the information about Benfish on Google i came across the fact that outlets were closing down with great speed due to lack of quality control measures etc and my guilt substantially could be consoled if not completely convinced.
This is the confession of my guilt:
On one of those lucky days, i spotted this Benfish outlet near one of the exit gates of the Sealdah railway station. to be more precise about the exit gate location, it was towards the Sealdah over bridge which is usually a shortcut for several trespassers to either side of the station.
on my first encounter i ate the oil dripping butter fish fry and a few Kababs. while eating i looked through the show case glass which had four small bottles with labels so stained with mustard oil than they could hardly be read. the lady behind the counter, a short and round one, who had taken great enthusiasm in explaining what i should try out from the fish foods, with tiny eyes attentively tried to make sense of the noises i made with my mouth full while pointing at the bottles.
with a cheek full of smile she proudly declared the contents as prawn pickle and dry fish.
quickly after stuffing the rest of the Kabab into my mouth i asked for a bottle of pickle to be packed, unsure of what the contents would taste like but there was great excitement as when one discovers some lost treasure.
The bottle of pickle did not disappoint me at all.
Those were also the days of my relationship, when it had begun to interest me to find out his likes and dislikes.
I remember telling about the bottle of pickle while in a taxi one evening. I also remember him almost sitting up with glowing prawn shaped eyes, searching for prawn pickle all over. worse even that the evening made me extremely guilty for not having bought a bottle for him. It could have made such a wonderful valentine gift.
Now I had to get another bottle, for him.
On my next visit to the station i went to the outlet and asked for the pickle. the round lady told me the bottles were over, and grinned a grin as wide as she could manage and said I could come the following week.
and i went back there the following week.
The little round lady was still there and so was her grin, looking guilty of something she wasn't really sure about. She said the pickles were being packed and the bottle would arrive soon. She also promised that she would keep two bottles for me in her locker and I could pick them up anytime after that week.
I was back , this time after two weeks.
and the only thing I brought back was the guilty grin and a promise to get the pickle a month later
I was back after a month again.
this time as I approached the counter, it seemed to me as if woman was looking around, considering her chances of hiding somewhere , between the shelves of fries.
I being a little taller than the glass counter almost bent down to look in and talk to her. She wouldn't look into my eyes and helplessly repeated the same promise.
I wasn't tired of this ritual, neither did it make me angry.
I was a little irritated with myself as to why had I not bought an extra bottle of such a rare thing.
Now I visited the counter less often but whenever I passed by, I never missed talking to the woman who by now looked very very irritated and frustrated with my incorrigible efforts for a mere bottle of pickle.
Months after I felt pity and stopped haunting the lady.
However Benfish prawn pickle was stuck to my dreams.
In one of the visits to the Roopkala Kendro, the experience of which I have written in my previous post 'living through legends' I spotted another outlet about 50 steps away from the institute. This I spotted while I was sulking and waiting for the bus.
Nothing could stop me from crossing the road in great leaps, greater than man made on moon, while a few auto walas braked abruptly and screamed out for something that was terribly wrong on street that took me to the blue Benfish board.
Fish kababs and a fish roll satisfied my stomach. Then I asked if they had the pickle. The woman here was in her 50's well built, tall and spoke with an air of stern confidence. She told me the pickles would be there the following day.
Hoping that all the bottles hadn't been sold, I went back after two days later when my boss was on a off day and also because heavy showers had dampened my enthusiasm to travel down so far.
First I asked for pickle to which came only disappointment. She told me since it had rained the previous day bottles hadn't arrived. the pickles needed sun.
She asked me if I had come to one of the institutes around the shop, and when I told her that my sole purpose of the day was the pickle she declared me mad. Only a mad person could travel from Minto Park to Salt Lake for a bottle of pickle. i tried not to look embarrassed, but my face must have gone warm , with other customers around.She must have felt pity for me, that day, for she volunteered to inform me on my phone whenever the bottles arrived.
That call never came
Recently as I passed by the Sealdah station outlet I realized the Benfish counter had closed down. It only made me feel guilty of a crime that I hoped would motivate someone to get me a bottle of pickle...
just one bottle of pickle...
Another half of the guilt came to rest when I found an imported prawn pickle bottle somewhere in New Market.
However this bottle only had gravy that smelled of prawn without any trace of the creature.
that is what CONSOLATION is all about!
Fish kababs and a fish roll satisfied my stomach. Then I asked if they had the pickle. The woman here was in her 50's well built, tall and spoke with an air of stern confidence. She told me the pickles would be there the following day.
Hoping that all the bottles hadn't been sold, I went back after two days later when my boss was on a off day and also because heavy showers had dampened my enthusiasm to travel down so far.
First I asked for pickle to which came only disappointment. She told me since it had rained the previous day bottles hadn't arrived. the pickles needed sun.
She asked me if I had come to one of the institutes around the shop, and when I told her that my sole purpose of the day was the pickle she declared me mad. Only a mad person could travel from Minto Park to Salt Lake for a bottle of pickle. i tried not to look embarrassed, but my face must have gone warm , with other customers around.She must have felt pity for me, that day, for she volunteered to inform me on my phone whenever the bottles arrived.
That call never came
Recently as I passed by the Sealdah station outlet I realized the Benfish counter had closed down. It only made me feel guilty of a crime that I hoped would motivate someone to get me a bottle of pickle...
just one bottle of pickle...
Another half of the guilt came to rest when I found an imported prawn pickle bottle somewhere in New Market.
However this bottle only had gravy that smelled of prawn without any trace of the creature.
that is what CONSOLATION is all about!
