Karo Christine Kumar

SWAPAN SETH SAYS IT LIKE HE SEES IT

God lies in the details. A few steps behind him stands Priya Paul. 

Or what can explain the masterful meticulousness that received me at Calcutta airport when I landed? The car had none of the meaningless mints that hover around in the back seat of airport pick-up cars. Instead it had Ajwa dates that are considered to be the presiding deity of dates and it had pine nuts. The note accompanying them both stated that the dates would provide one with energy and the pine nuts would fondly wave fatigue, goodbye. Yet subtly it warned you that you would need to accumulate all the energy that you could muster to party with the Pauls and The Park.

It was supposed to be 50 hours of non-stop partying. It is enough to even kill Kim Kardashian. I opted for half the happening hours and arrived on Day Two (November 2). 

Expectedly, I was told of the excessiveness of the night before. Of how people finished floating their boat up until 5am that morning. I congratulated myself on my wisdom.

Those who know me do know that I am socially challenged. I seldom participate in the romps of Delhi. They are mostly dotted with utterly boring people who drearily discuss Mr Modi. And in more recent times, a certain Mr Weinstein. It is agonisingly annoying. But I did know that the Pauls had this amazing agrarian ability to separate the wheat from the chaff. I knew that I would be in for some great company, astonishing conversation, fine food and design delight. 

As I opened the door to my suite, I saw a teal sofa with a grey unpolished wood table in my room. It was such an edgy combination. I then noticed a purple button flower on top of the soap. In the lobby, Seal’s Crazy was playing on the sound system. The vibe was vivid. The air pregnant with elan. The flower arrangements by Twelve Tomatoes were just lovely. The celebrations started with a Rajbari sit-down lunch served with precision and passion against a backdrop of some splendid singing. A pianist was playing Rabindrasangeet. It epitomised the Park ethos: anything but ordinary.

Lunch was staggering: Komola Lebu and Aadar Shorbot. The starters had amazing Bok Phool Bhaja, Ilish Paturi. The mains had Kalo Jeera Rice, Curry Patta Aloo Jhuri Bhaja, Suktuni, Golda Chingri Malai Curry, Khasir Mangsho. The desserts were divine: a troika of Raj Bhog, Mihidana and Gold-dusted Nolen Gur Ice cream. The food was indeed fabulous. I had Sal Tahiliani and Subodh Gupta sitting besides me. The conversation jumped from Andhra cuisine to the Bihar Museum to football. No mention of any minister. Mercifully. 
 

The Park had assembled the works. Guests had the option to visit Kalighat. Or travel in trams. Or even jump on to a yacht and do a recce of the Hooghly. 

I opted for a rejuvenating massage at their smashing spa: Aura. 

The evening commenced with a fantastic do at the Paul residence. Hari and Sukhmani belted out some great music. The wine was Margaux and the pork belly was emphatic. As was the mushroom risotto. 

The party then moved to Tantra where I receded into the background with one of my favourite Calcutta couples: Sonia and Vijay Dewan. Soon a LED drummer put together a poetic performance. And as I got into bed, I could hear Nikhil Chinapa scratch the vinyl. I suppose the party had just begun. 

And through the day, I saw all the stakeholders of The Park celebrate with all of us. The culture of family is very integral to the Paul ethos. As is the element of trust.

Vijay Dewan isn’t careless with his words. And he uses very few. But he nailed it when he told me that “our culture is our brand. And our brand is our culture”.

Once again, anything but ordinary.