Abdul Jalil with Sudhir Gautam outside Eden Gardens. Picture by Bishwarup Dutta; (below) Dalai Lama

Taj Bengal, housing the Indian and Pakistani cricket teams, has predictably turned into a fortress. But undaunted, two Calcutta families, who are also relatives, headed for the five-star on Thursday to celebrate the birthdays of two family members at its restaurant Sonar Gaon.

Not that one family knew of the other family’s plans — but they were glad to meet. When it was cake-cutting time, they decided to do it together. Chandana, a 14-year-old, was one of the two persons celebrating her birthday. As she ran the knife through the cake, a stranger’s exultant voice cried: “Mooh pe laga do (Rub some it on her face).”

It was Harbhajan Singh, from another table. Bhajji, with Yuvraj Singh, Zaheer Khan, V.V.S. Laxman and Sachin Tendulkar were having dinner.

“We asked Bhajji to have the cake and Bhajji challenged ‘We’ll come?’ We said yes,” says the birthday girl. “After a while I asked Bhajji, ‘Are you coming or not?’” says the 49-year-old Keshav Mehta, the other person celebrating his birthday .

Bhajji came — and with him, “Yuvraj — my favourite cricketer, Zaheer and lastly Sachin also came by and all wished me and had the cake!” gushes Chandana. Her seven-year-old sister Anjika was so frightened that she dived under the table!

“This has been the best gift on my birthday,” says Chandana. “This day will last me a lifetime! I told Sachin Tendulkar that he’s a legend and we also took pictures with him on my mobile,” says Keshav.

P.S. Anjika was recovered from under the table after the players left.

Cricket ambassadors

“Chacha,” yelled the young man carrying a Tricolour, broke into a run and hugged the object of his affection — Abdul Jalil of Sialkot. Jalil is a familiar face at grounds featuring the Pakistan team. So is he at Eden Gardens this year. Clad in a green robe (djibbah), carrying a Pakistani flag, the 59-year-old follows the team around the world sponsored by the Pakistan Cricket Board. “Arrey beta, kaisa hai tu?” he asked his friend who was hugging him.

But if Chacha is Pakistan’s cricket ambassador, the friend was Sudhir Gautam, who can be called Chacha’s counterpart. As they met outside Gate 14 of Eden Gardens, they cut a perfect picture of amity. “I cycled to Pakistan in January 2006 and to Bangladesh in May 2007. I put up at Chacha’s place during the Pakistan tour,” says the 26-year-old Gautam from Muzaffarpur whose tickets to the matches are arranged by Sachin Tendulkar, no less. He shows his gratitude. Gautam’s bare chest is painted in India colours with Tendulkar’s name and jersey number. Around the navel is inked ‘Dada Army’. His hair is shaved to carve out an India map, which too is dyed in the national colours.

Both came by train from Delhi, where the first Test took place, but Jalil’s train reached late and kept him away from action till tea. “I have learnt a Bengali lafz — khela,” smiled the man on his second trip to Eden, with an arm around Sudhir.

You’ve got mail, god

Prithviraj Choudhury (centre) with Joy Goswami (right) at the book launch

Can you reach god over email? Prithwiraj Choudhury believes you can. The 34-year-old, who is doing his doctoral dissertation on management at Harvard Business School, launched a collection of Bengali poetry called Email-e Ishwar in the city on Friday.

“Email for me is a symbol of technology. It is a means, not an end. If you can connect with human beings over it so can you reach god,” says the young poet, who counts Rabindranath, Rilke and Ramakrishna as his influences. And he has “proof”. “You can offer puja to Lord Tirupati over email, can’t you? All you have to do is disclose your naam, gotra and your credit card number,” he adds, cheekily.

The IIT-K alumnus, who used to write plays in college, was heading Microsoft’s global accounts in South East Asia from Singapore when the poetry bug bit him full time. “It was a motivation to quit the job,” he smiles.

Prithviraj’s “guru” Joy Goswami did the honours at the launch ceremony. “He would come over to show me his poetry. He has the ability to make one think long after one has read his lines, which look simple — much like haiku,” Goswami says. Sparkling praise for a debutant.

Poetry and management, Rabindrasangeet and film-making. To keep at all four simultaneously, Prithviraj must be needing divine intervention. Has he found that from god@heaven.com?

The sparrows are back

A correspondent writes: I had thought that sparrows had disappeared from my para in Bentinck Street. Once, these tiny but noisy birds used to create a racket every day before sundown when they sought shelter in the juhi creeper that used to grow near the entrance of the ABP building on Prafulla Sarkar Street before the fire. But they seem to have disappeared after that. Now the entire flock seems to have returned with a vengeance and turned in at a tree opposite a cinema that has closed down into its nest. Their chorus of chirps — they are quite as loud as their counterparts in Barrackpore rail station — has become the harbinger of dawn and night every day. Thanks to the trees that were planted here over a decade ago, a barbet too has become a regular visitor. It appears in a flash of green. The patch of red on its head is visible for a moment. It is drawn to a coral tree. Then it is gone the next moment.

Lama-da

Calcutta has its own terms of endearment, even if the persons on whom they are showered may be a little befuddled by them.

The Dalai Lama is one of those. On his last visit to the city, as he was about to enter Grand Hotel, without affording the army of photographers a photo-op, an intrepid photographer made his last desperate attempt to make the Nobel Peace laureate turn and pose. “Lama-da, Lama-da, ektu edike,” he cried. Astounded, The Dalai Lama turned — and the shutterbugs could take their pictures home thanks to this local genius.

(Contributed by Smita Mehta, Sudeshna Banerjee and Soumitra Das)