Little Andaman

At the Andaman Islands…

While vacationing across the beautiful Andaman Islands, Piku had one wish that was still unfulfilled. Meat!

Yes, Piku was a meet lover. He loved his chicken for his breakfast, lunch as well as dinner. He could very well have a chicken leg as a snack in the evening.

When at Med School they had a guy from the Andaman Islands. One day as the talk turned to eating meat he was asked what were the different kinds of meat that he had taken. The air was ripe with BHAGAR controversy. Everywhere people were discussing about meat; what poor quality meat unsuspecting Kolkatana had been served all this while and they had relished and digested. Some were even of the opinion that BHAGAR meat helped to strengthen their immunity power and digestive system. It was an indirect indicator of the good health of a Bong's guts. If he could digest BHAGAR, he could practically digest anything.

Other more concerned citizens had new found interest in vegetarianism. Many of them felt veganism to be the way of life. Some had started bringing green leafy veggies for lunch - a small step towards good health, they would explain. Some people had even started shunning chicken shops completely, as if the live birds smelled of stale meat.

Back in the Med School, especially during the duty hours in the evening time when pang of hunger struck, nobody much bothered that what went down as long as it tasted good and made them feel heavy.

On one such occasion just after the evening rounds where over, the young doctors we are munching on chicken lollipops frisked in from nearby eatery. As the meat pieces on the lollipop made their way into the stomach, needless to say the topic deviated towards BHAGAR. What could have been laced with the chicken meat that they were eating - cow, dog, pig, cat…

Talking about different animals soon turned the topic towards animal meat that they had tasted so far. A guy said he had eaten beef when another admitted to enjoying pork in park Street. Someone had tasted snake meat in village. Amid such talk the guy from Andaman surprised everyone with crocodile! He had eaten crocodile meat and it tasted real good as per our statement. To the utter disbelief of everyone he described how a crocodile was caught, killed and its meat cooked and enjoyed.

This time during the vacation at Andaman Piku remembered the crocodile meat. Many of the beaches and the Islands where infested with the dangerous creatures. The warning signs on the beaches made Piku wonder if meat was available for him to taste - a culinary memory for him to take back home.

They had been to Neil Island and Piku had an awesome time. After returning from Neil, as they landed ashore on Port Blair, Piku asked the driver who had come to receive them at the port and drop them to their hotel if crocodile meat was available anywhere in Port Blair and if the meat was good to eat.

‘Yes indeed, the meat tastes very good. In fact it is much better than chicken’, said the driver. ‘However you will not be able to find crocodile meat here in Port Blair sir’, he said. On inquiring about availability of the meat he informed that crocodile meat was available at ‘little Andaman’. For that they needed to travel for around 8 hours on a ferry from Port Blair to Little Andaman.

Piku was not very fond of the limitless sea. It frightened him. He had always enjoyed the safety of the sea-shore while enjoying the waves splashing over it. The very idea of Blue water everywhere for 8 hours straight, was uncomfortable to Piku.

To do hell with the wretched organism! He was not going to risk eight hours on the dangerous sea water just to eat some man eating creature called to crocodile. Let people savour whatever they wanted to. Crocodile meat was not going down his belly.

Back in the City…

His cousin had just called. She was on the verge of a mental breakdown. She was happy. She was scared. She was sad. She did not know what she was.

Only thing she knew was ‘two lines’ on the prega news strip. She was pregnant! She had repeated the test and everytime it gave 2 lines indicating a positive result. She called her cousin to confirm if what she understood was actually what she understood.

‘Congrats Behna, Jiju did it! You are pregnant’, Piku said on the other end of the line. ‘But I am not mentally prepared the Dada’, she cried.

She was looking forward to her upcoming trip to Kolkata. She had taken a month long leave from her Mumbai office and would be down to the city for the Durga Puja celebration. Meanwhile as Piku's Facebook wall started filling up with the pictures from his Andaman trip, she also started planning to go on a week-long tour to the islands with her family.

Aunty seldom had a scope of going out and travelling. Her brother was still in college and uncle being an introvert guy would spend most of his time reading the newspaper or going out on long walks. And amid everything, after the household chores were done, aunty would be left to herself. She looked forward to her daughter.

Over the years her little naughty darling daughter had grown up into an understanding friend with whom she would share almost everything. She was looking forward to the upcoming Andaman trip as well.

But the two lines on prega news confused everyone. Aunty saw the dream of her walking along the coastline on Neil Island vanish into thin air. The pictures of Piku had come perfect.

And now this pregnancy! Couldn't her daughter be a little bit more cautious? Was this the right time? Was she even prepared for it?

If only their daughter had attempted pregnancy after another year, their son would have finished college and aunty could have been in Mumbai taking care of her darling child at the time of confinement. And amid everything she saw the dream of her much awaited Andaman trip vanish.

She felt the pang of anger towards her daughter. But then she was again happy for the new member. It was a mixture of strange emotions. Her little child would now be bringing into the world, another little child.

‘the child that took away her Andaman trip’, and she named the little one, ‘little Andaman’...

‘Andaman’ seems to be a boyish name’, Piku had observed munching on her famed Jhal Muri mixture. ‘what if its a girl?’, asked Piku.

‘Doesn't matter’, said aunty, ‘it will still be my little Andaman’...

Mr Bose takes Vertin

The afternoon of 24th August 2016. An otherwise uneventful Wednesday afternoon for Mr Bose. With nothing to do at hand he decided on having an afternoon siesta. He was soon snoring away into a peaceful sleep after a lunch composed of the routine Bengali maach bhaat. Kamal had cooked ‘parshe macher jhol’ along with 'Cholar dal’.

Although Mr Bose was never a fan of Pershe mach but being the worshipper of his wife, as usual he gulped down an entire fish as per instruction of his loving wife. After lunch he went into the room where his father-in-law once slept, turned on the AC and went off to sleep.

It was decided by Mrs Bose that her husband had been going through a tough time after her recent diagnosis of being a diabetic thus, resulting in her mood fluctuations as she was unable to eat a lot of things that she loved. She had to say no to her daily dose of roshogolla, plate full of rice, spice rich mutton, chicken rolls in the evening, just name of few.

Her inability to achieve satiety owing to all the restrictions set by her doctor led her to misbehave every now and then with her husband over whom she had absolute control. He was a devoted husband and she was a loving wife. She realised, he needed to have some rest from all the bickerings she had been throwing at him ever since she had been diagnosed to be diabetic.

So today he was supposed to have an afternoon nap after lunch. For the past 7 days she had been keeping him awake and and on his toes to do whatever errand came to her mind. The tasks ranged from filling the empty water bottles on table, to giving her a head massage, to staying awake with her because she was unable to sleep out of hunger because she had skipped that tasteless diabetic meal especially prepared by Kamal for her.

Needless to mention here that Mr Bose had also started taking a diabetic diet. He felt that having a diabetic diet would do good to his health and keep company for his wife.

Today morning as a blood test came within the permissible limits set by her physician, she treated herself with dose of rosogolla that had been drained off its syrup. As she gulped down the rosogolla, her husband handed over the medicines.

She looked at him and felt pity for the ageing handsome hunk cowed down by her immense love into a docile domesticated husband. His greying hair looked more grey and the baldness of his head look more bald. He must get some rest today, she immediately decided.

The satisfaction from rosogolla was going to be a strong sedative for her afternoon nap as well. If left on his own Mr Boss would turn on the TV and keep watching news till dinner time and as usual she took matters in her hand and ordered him to go to the other room and take a nap. Mr Bose followed her command like an obedient school boy.

It must be around 4 p.m. in the afternoon when Mrs Bose woke up. It was her usual tea time. She made two cups of Darjeeling tea and called Mr Bose. Soon they were sitting at the dining table sipping the afternoon tea while, the TV was turn on and played some local news on a regional TV channel.

Mrs boss suddenly felt the table move. She had cervical spondylosis and often suffered attacks of vertigo. The vertigo would soon be followed by nausea and sometimes vomiting. She was in no mood to destroy the beautiful afternoon. She decided on a preventive measure and immediately ordered Mr Bose to get her tablet vertin.

The physician had advised this tablet to her mother during their last visit when she complained of occasional dizziness and vertigo. Mrs Boss had a quick acting mind. She immediately ordered her husband to open the case of medicines that belonged to her mother. It was placed on the table where they were having tea. Soon the case was opened and she had a tablet of vertin in her hand which immediately gulped down.

Mr Bose watched her and  said, ‘you see I am also having vertigo’. ‘then you take one too’, she handed over another tablet of vertin to Mr bose which he obediently gulped down.

Mr Boss had just swallowed the tablet when his attention was broken by ulu from a flat in the adjacent tower. A woman in another flat has started blowing the conch shell. It was at this point he realised that it was actually an earthquake that had shook the house and his wife thought it was an attack of vertigo.

Poush Sonkranti, January, 2019

Went out on a picnic to Rupnarayan Tourist Lodge at Gadiara

A winter night's sleepless tale

2:05 a.m. is exactly what the time shows on my mobile screen. Had a hectic day at work and back home as well. And like any other day that I have been having recently, I had carried work from office back home.

At home I kept delaying my work for as long as past dinner time. Once filled to satiety on a cold winter's night, it gets even more difficult to sit with boring office work. However, finally I put myself on the laptop and sluggishly finished up the leftover work.

By the time I had completed my task and shutdown the laptop it was already 1:30 am. I was almost dying for sleep. I coulf drop dead at any moment from sleepiness.

Finally I forced myself out of the warm rug and brush my teeth. After peeing, I switched off the light and jump into my bed.

I have always loved winter nights. Warm and cosy beside large window with cold misty world outside. The mystery in the mist on a cold winter's day has always filled me with awe. As a child I'd often read myself to sleep with an adventure novel on such wintery night.

The room was dark, I was tired, everything was set. I got inside my rug and closed my eyes. It was cold and quiet. I could hear the noise from distant insects. A lonesome dog howled once in a while. The overbridge on belghoria expressway rumbled with the passage of a goods carrier.

I kept my eyes closed but then where was my sleep? Suddenly I felt more awake then I had been also the day! It was such an awkward feeling. Just moments back on my laptop I struggled to stay awake. And now that my work was done and I was in my bed sleep was nowhere near me.

MUSIC AND ENTERTAINMENT IN CALCUTTA, IN THE DAYS GONE BY

When I started blogging, I used to post regularly. But like a lot of things, this early enthusiasm faded over time and now I seldom make an effort to write up something.

However, in this WhatsApp generation where a lot of information is disbursed via messages of various chats and groups, I one message caught my attention.

I usually don't read long messages posted on the groups. I'd simply scroll pass them and over time, forget everything about what was written. But this message did manage to catch my attention and as I read through the lines, I felt myself traveling back in time along park Street and such other happening places of Kolkata in the days gone by. I'm not sure how much of what was written there is true but the content was a good and interesting read.

Here goes the message:

"MUSIC AND ENTERTAINMENT IN CALCUTTA, IN THE DAYS GONE BY !!

(Written by an ole' timer and a lover of Calcutta and shared on WhatsApp)...

My best memories of Christmas and New Year are in Calcutta as a teenager. I have spent winters in London, New York, Singapore, Hong Kong, Paris. Even LA. But nothing quite compares to the Calcutta I knew. Park Street was like fairyland, brilliantly decked up days ahead of the festivities. Singers and musicians came from all over to perform there but the best among them were the local Anglo Indians who outclassed everyone.

There was Pam Crain who sang like a dream, with Louis Banks and his boys in Blue Fox. Usha Uthup jived away at Trinca’s in a South Indian sari. Hers was a voice you could never forget. A Shillong band often backed her up. There was busty Delilah at Moulin Rouge, a blonde who lost her way and arrived in Park Street from heavens knows where. She wasn’t exactly the best singer there but she did some amazing gigs which everyone loved, for all the wrong reasons. For me at 16, she was Christmas.

There was Brenda Lilley at Blue Fox who later married tennis star Jaideep Mukherjee. Her sister Fay sang at Mags in fabulous Queens Mansion, an entire building lost by its owner, an Armenian called JC Galstaun in a horse racing debt in this season of carols and mistletoes. Galstaun was a great gambler and bought several buildings in Calcutta, including Queens Mansion, with his winnings at the races. Losing his prized possession however broke his heart. Yet, like a true gambler, he walked out the next morning, handing over the building to its new owners. His autobiography was dedicated to the very book makers who had taken all his money.

Also, the story goes, a famous playboy prince from the Land of the Dragon up in the Himalayan mountains, left Humayun Court on Lindsay Street, barely a ten minute walk from Park Street, at the crack of dawn on New Year’s day, having lost throughout the night at the roulette table, playing against some of the worthies of the time. The stakes were high and by the time the game was over, the young prince had lost everything he had on his person. So he quietly got up and walked out, leaving behind the keys to his Austin Sherline on the table. He rode home to Tivoli Court in a baby taxi, which his staff paid off on arrival.

The others at his table were Angelo Firpo, the Italian owner of Firpo’s the legendary restaurant on Chowringhee, Pat Williamson, Boris, the Russian impresario who later settled in Kathmandu and opened a restaurant called Boris’ and boasted he could offer you a tiger for breakfast, Eddie Cracknel the jockey and Daddy Mazda, owner of Golden Slippers, Calcutta’s most celebrated nightclub of the time, bang opposite Nizam’s, back of Hogg Market. Many were the lurid tales that went around about what happened at Golden Slippers but what made the club famous was the list of defaulters prominently displayed on a wall near the gate, featuring some of the city’s best known names. There was also the 300 Club on Theatre Road and the Bengal Club where a croupier with a cockney accent would regale members with tales of nightclubs in London’s West End. Many gambled with cowries. The Maharajas of Cooch Bihar, Jaipur, Burdwan, Nazarganj were regulars. So were royalty from Nepal and Bhutan.

At the heart of all this festivity was music, the bands and the crooners. They were the life of every party, every celebration. They made everything happen. Without them, Calcutta would not have been Calcutta. But years went by, Governments changed, politics redefined our life and culture. Suddenly new taxes were imposed on live entertainment. These taxes were so punishing that within a very short time, all the restaurants stopped playing live music. The crooners left Calcutta. Bands disbanded. Musicians picked up other jobs. The music slowly died.

 Sad"

Poor quality (dysfunctional) Keyboard from YAMAHA

I love music and have always wanted to learn a musical instrument. Finally I decided to get myself an Electronic Keyboard from Yamaha. After a bit of research, I settled down for the Yamaha PSR E453 model.

I bought the instrument on 7th July, 2018 for Musicians Mall, Kolkata.

Very happy with my new purchase, I got back home; got myself a music teacher and started learning the instrument. However, not even a week had gone by, the instrument started to malfunction. The problem with the instrument is unique in itself and I am having a huge difficulty in establishing the problem with the machine. So, finally, I got a video footage of the issue and how it evolves.

Initially, when the instrument is turned on, it works fine and plays beautifully:

However, once you are playing on it for around one and half hour, it starts to malfunction. A particular set of keys stop producing a note and the problem persists do whatever you may - change mode, instrument, turn off and turn on etc; it doesn't matter. When it is turned off and kept such overnight, the next day if you are lucky, it may work normal!!!

Here is the video of the malfunction:

I mailed Yamaha about the malfunction and all they did was to immediately mail back a machine generated Auto-reply followed by no action from their side!!!

Frustrated with their response, I took the Keyboard to one of their service centres in Kolkata:

At the service centre, when the instrument was turned on, it played well which is what it does on start up and so they said, 'NO ISSUE' with the keyboard. Still on my insistence, they agreed to keep the instrument at the service centre and 'SEE IF ANY PROBLEM ARISES'. After keeping the keyboard with them for a week and getting no response from their side, I contacted them again on my own when they informed, 'THERE IS NO PROBLEM WITH THE KEYBOARD. YOU CAN TAKE IT BACK HOME. WORKING FINE'.

So, I took back the instrument with me and back home when started playing the device, after 90 minutes, the same issue cropped up!!!

I was very frustrated and wanted a replacement of the device but the service centre said, they can't. No communication came from YAMAHA either. 

This is the POOR QUALITY of CUSTOMER CARE that YAMAHA provides to it's customers!!!

And, by the way, my device falls under their warranty period!!!

belated Valentine's Day Post

Valentine’s Day

He, She and V day!

2018

by Leaf of Spring on February 14th

She had planned for it from two days before, that is monday. She made it a point to tell him. The forgetful him, he was bound to forget. It has always been his usual self. He forgot her birthday; the first day they met; they kissed; fucked... his own birthday as well. So she had not much expectations from his this year and instead of waiting for him to recall things in time, she made it a point to let him know that two days later was V day and V stood for “Valentine’s” and not “Vagina”.


It was monday and things were as usual for him. She called, greeted the good morning and came straight to the point, “listen, I know you’ll have night shift on tuesday and will be tired as you will be working on wednesday morning as well. So I was thinking that I’ll come up to your neighbourhood rather then you coming down all the way from north.” Needless to say, she knew well the he had forgotten about the V day. And so, she reminded him to which he replied a cool yes as if he knew everything, but in reality he didn’t.


She wanted to make the day special for him. She had never gifted a red rose to anyone. This was the first time she would be someone's valentine and she felt it mandatory to carry a red rose to gift on greeting. Enroute, while crossing a departmental store she saw a milton flask. She knew how much he loved his coffee served warm, especially through those sleepless night shifts every week. She took it and got it gift wrapped. Then she recalled, she had bought a soup bowl complete with a lid and a spoon packed neatly and kept safe in her cupboard. She returned to her room, retrieved the third gift and just when she was about to step through the door, he called.


She was late. “As usual”, he’d say. He was tired and when he was tired, his sense of calm gave in to boredom and displeasure. He would not say much, but would kill her by staying quiet. Quietness was his weapon of mass destruction. His quietude could kill.


She made an excuse, as she almost always did and which he knew to be an excuse for getting late. She started. Took the rikshaw to 8B bus stand...auto to Tollygunge...metro to dumdum. One thing was but baffling. The next station, Noapara was nearer to him but he chose Dumdum.


That overcrowded, romanceless place for a V day meet! Yuck. Men are stupid and romanceless. No! Not all men, but her’s was. She saw how romantic was her roomie’s bf and she’d often shigh, if only her’s was even 10% of that. He was a stupid guy mostly lost in his own world.


But still, Dumdum of all places!!!


She boarded the metro when his call beeped to ask where she was. He may get a bit late and so to utilize time he asked her to hop one station up and wait at Noapara. She had but no other option.


And, Noapara was still a better less crowded place as compared to dirty Dumdum. As the trained entered Dumdum the announcement caught her attention. This train was going to Noapara. Not all trains go. Some end at Dumdum. A few ply further north to Noapara.


He had booked an Ola straight to Noapara metro. He realized, to travel to Dumdum during the peak traffic time in evening would be stupid as it would eat up a lot of time. Rather he would do better if he hired an Ola to Noapara and got on the metro from there. Dumdum was only one station away.


As he ascended the escalator, he saw her standing at the upper end smiling at him. She hugged him tight and kissed him gently on his cheeks. And then, taking a look through the angle of her eyes, gauging that the platform was empty save a guard, she put a kiss on his lips.


Well, this is India. You can kick someone openly, but you need to consider many things before kissing someone you love.


They sat on the empty chairs meant for old and/or physically impaired. The metal felt cold on their respective bums. She opened the bag she had been carrying and brought out the red rose. He was happy and smiled. He smelled it. It had none and that is what she lamented as well while he smelled the flower and then said, “no, it does smell. It has retained its essence. Probably your nose got stuffed by cold, but it smells wonderful”.


Then she gave the other two gifts and he blushed and said, “you got me so many things, but I got nothing”, to which she replied, “I didn't buy you these things in expectation of gifts from you in return. I got them just because i felt like buying them for you.”


The train entered the platform. He got up and held out his hand, “come, lets go”.

Dumdum

They got down amid the maddening evening crowd. Lovers, office commuters, work less bystanders, hawkers, vegetable and fruit sellers and everyone else. He held her hand tight as they commuted through the underpass. They took the left turn in front of the stairs that led up to the Dumdum railway junction and got up the railed sidewalk to avoid the heavy traffic. Once they were on Dumdum road, he said, let’s go to the Spectacle shop and get your power checked. You’ve been having these headache of late and probably a power check and a new pair of specs would do you good. “You see, I thought it would be better if I got you something useful for you. So I decided to take you for an eye checkup for a V day treat,” he said almost with a bit of ashamed look.


She smiled and they went to the shop. Satyacharan opticals. It was in his old neighbour-hood and he knew the guy. He had already called him and fixed an appointment.


He doubt was confirmed. Indeed her power had changed and probably that was the reason for her headache out of eye strain. The man showcased her an array of spectacles. She would try one after another but and recheck with him. He liked most of them but she felt confused. One was difficult to wear- size issue, other had an issue with colour, another had a design issue etc. and so on.


He sat and let her choose patiently. After a certain point of time, he got up impatiently and asked for his power to be checked while she was busy scurrying through the array of spec designs. His left eye had a minor change in power but he decided to try a new spec and within no time a spec was chosen, and advance paid and she still kept trying to figure out one good spec for herself.


At last, she came down to one great design that she loved but unfortunately it did not fit. It was already 9.30pm. He had no choice left but to escort her back to metro. She had to travel down south and if she missed the last train, they would have to travel via road. An idea he didnt like much. Travelling via road from north to south kolkata.


As they parted, he whimpered, “I wanted to gift you a spec for the V day. But the man ran out of stocks.” she kissed him and smiled, “You are the best V day gift I have”.


The train sped down south as he waved good night.



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Deviant, mentally unstable driver employed by Ola Cabs

Ever since Ola Cabs was launched in Kolkata, I have been using the service regularly.  The price seems reasonable for booking an AC cab with the ease of sitting at your office or home and getting the driver arrive at your doorstep within minutes.

Ola claims to maintain high standards for their drivers. However, over recent times the company has faced complaints from customers regarding ill behaviour from its drivers

A similar incident occurred with me recently. I had booked a cab on Saturday,  july 15th (2017) to take me from Salt Lake, Sec V, Kolkata to Medical College, Kolkata (88, College Street).

Everything was going fine. I booked the cab, called the driver, he came for pickup, OTP sharing completed and the ride commenced. I had booked a share cab and two other co-passengers were travelling along with me. 

However,  when we were nearing my destination he crossed on from new CIT road to Lalit Banerjee Sarani and al of a sudden ordered me to get out of the cab!!!

I pointed out that my drop location was 88, College Street and to reach College street he had to go further down Lalit banerjee Sarani till it is crossed perpendicularly by College street. From there a left turn would take me to my destination.

He didn't say anything and continued driving till he reached the crossing where Lalit Banerjee Street is crossed by College Street, but then instead of taking a right turn he started abusing me!!!
'where is your drop location...it's not here...you are unnecessarily making me drive onwards'....were some of the things he said along with use of offensive language.

I was dumb found and in anger I asked him to call ola service centre to which his reply was, 'why should I call? It's your problem not mine'. And he swiped on his mobile screed which seemed to end my ride although I was not dropped to my drop location!!!

And before I could say anything he took to reverse gere and started running the cab backwards on Lalit Banerjee Sarani till he reached the Central Metro entry on C R Avenue!!!

I was angry and when asked what was wrong with him, he said, 'this is your location and you have to get down here or I'll continue driving along', and saying so he again accelerated forward reached the junction of Lalit Banerjee Sarani with College street, took a left turn.

It is unfortunate that my co passengers failed to respond to the crisis..probably they didn't understand our language of conversation or were too pre occupied with their mobiles!!!

This time I was shouting to let me get down when he said, 'why do you want to get down? Ill take you on a ride of the city. Sit back'. This was very alarming in the threatening tone that he said to which I turned down the window pane and shouted when he abruptly braked his cab. In a jiffy I got down and he sped away hurling filthy abuses. I had my mobile in hand but as he had already ended my ride the SOS button had disappeared.  I clicked the vehicle rushing away onwards.

I tried searching google for ola service centre to call and inform them of this incident. I dialed the number but repeated calli g only lead to a computer generated voice and I was kept waiting to talk with the executive which never happened as no one received the call.

Frustrated,  finally I gave up and went to my duty posting as I was getting late. But this fact shows how helpless the customers arenin the hands of hapless deviant mentally unstable drivers which are employed by Ola. 

Hail google translate!!! LOL

what the original post reads:

What google translated:

Why is Ola better then Uber?

Gone are the days of the ubiquitous yellow taxi and the driver asking for an illogical sum of money. He would stretch back as if nothing matters to him while the commuter asked with a requesting tone, "koto taka lagbe dada", as often the driver would refuse to go on "meter" especially if the commuter is in some sort of an emergency as can easily be made out from his general behavior or if one has to book a cab at an odd hour. 

With the advent of smart phones and android and more and more people using them,came the app based cab services - here in Kolkata the market is dominated by Ola and Uber. Over time the stubborn and often misbehaving yellow taxi wala has lost his ground and to the swert spoken cab driver. With the ease and hassle free nature by which one can book a cab to arrive at his dorr step and no haggering for the fare, these services have become essential for someone enjoying the city life. 

However,  more companies in the segment have led to more competition and that has been beneficial to the commuter for now he has got an option to choose from - cafeteria choice of sort. And now you have the option to share your ride thus, further dragging down the cost of a ride. But like every other quintessential bong from the middle class, I am concerned about my pocket as well. So, whenever you have the the option to choose from, you always comare and choose the one that suits your needs and pocket the best. 

My work often makes me travel from Salt Lake (AN block) to College Street. As I compared the prices between the two cab aggregators (Ola and Uber), on multiple ocassions I found that Ola is a much cheaper alternative to Uber. Given below are screenshots comparing prices on a shared ride as quoted by Ola and Uber for the same distance.