Chanda, my wife, “had a dream” as sonorous as a Nana Mouskouri. And it all seemed too far-fetched and she kept rehearsing that dream at home with pop-up Burmese food festivals. t2 had covered it and she managed to collect a sizeable prospective clientele. Then suddenly Lizzy walked into our lives. A cute, white 11-year-old Pomeranian.

Chanda’s brother had died and she had nowhere to go. She not only became Chanda’s favourite but a daughter that we never had. And suddenly everything fell into place within a year. Chanda found the most adventurous partner in Janet Gasper and a cute property in Golpark. It was fully decorated to her taste, a team of wonderful staff who were willing to learn and deliver.… The dream became a reality. Chanda’s Khaukswey, the only “speciality Burmese restaurant” in Calcutta, happened.

Then the ever joyful Lizzy left us. Old age, ailment and tuberculosis of the lungs. She died in my arms and was buried in our friend’s home. Despite immense pain in their hearts and eyes, Chanda and Neel, my son, had to open the shutters and keep the shop going. Lizzy came, gave Chanda her dream and left silently. Now I have started believing in angels. It made me want to chat with my friend and guitar guru Amyt Datta regarding pain, dreams and success. So we chose Chanda’s Khaukswey to chat over lunch....

Anjan: Amyt, how important is pain in achieving one’s dreams?

Amyt: More than happiness. Happiness is bovine. Pain is the essence of true romance. You hang on to the hurt of your life’s experiences and create from there. The blues gives you that depth which flowers and honeybee cannot. I thank all those who have hurt me ’cause they have indirectly given me the courage to stick on to my dreams and not give in…

Anjan: So what is your advice to those who aspire to be the rock star that you are?

Amyt: Collect lessons from life’s experiences. Not entire life. Only those that matter.

Anjan: How do you select them?

Amyt: On instincts. It comes from your upbringing, your true friendships, associations, a bit of genetics perhaps…. You cannot play the guitar or be an artiste to get something. You do it because you just have to do it. That desperate inner urge. See, you need to look striking. ’Cause you’re in that trade. But you can’t fake it by just dressing up. You really got to carry off your clothes. The shades you wear, for instance. The ring in my ears. I ain’t pretending to be hip. I am hip. I know that, ’cause I’m honest to what I feel I need. Unconditional honesty. No place for being cunning. I simply love my guitar. Am willing to get hurt badly for it…

[I order my favourite Khaukswey and Amyt goes for Pork Curry with Rice and Pakchoy. Chanda insists that we try her Burmese Pork Ribs and Fried Rice. We decide to share a plate of both. I taste the ribs for the first time and it’s the most succulent ever. Amyt refuses to talk while having the Fried Rice…]

Chanda: Most love what I give, but there are always those who want me to give me their version… it’s rather frustrating!

Amyt: Who’s the chef here? You, right? You have lived your life in Burma. Learnt the stuff from your childhood. You have the guts to call your place Chanda’s Khaukswey and not just Khaukswey. It’s you they should be coming for. Can you walk into Shiraz and ask for Chowmein?

Anjan: So it’s better to stick to your belief and not cater to public taste?

Amyt: Look, you can balance. Tweak it a bit here and there ’cause we are here for the public. But to lose your signature is like denouncing your history, your legacy. Why have you worked so hard to become what you are? To cater to those who don’t care for what you are?

Anjan: Have you compromised in your playing?

Amyt: Just a wee bit. I’m very choosy about who I play with. Adjusting is not in my blood. You come to hear me. Take it or leave it. Or else I could have been in Bollywood playing sessions. I could not admire the bull that was being dished off as music in the 1980s or 1990s. I’ve practised 14 hours a day for what? To become me and not Carlos Santana, who by the way is my legend. Why will I play his licks?

Anjan: If some say that you are big fish in a small pond?

Amyt: You know more than me pal that a pond or a sea does not matter. (Satyajit) Ray could have made it far bigger in Mumbai or say even Hollywood if he had tried harder. But the fact remains is that where you practise does not matter. It’s what you produce matters. My standard is the world, not Calcutta.

Anjan: More fame or money doesn’t matter?

Amyt: Money is something I use, to survive. What makes it worthwhile is that here, in Calcutta, I’ve been able to live my life on my terms… I thank the people of the city for that.

Anjan: And the city itself?

Amyt: It’s not because of this city I have become this. It’s because what I have collected from here and the world that I can play what I play. The churning happens inside you. Your soul is in Darjeeling or perhaps you have learnt much more from Donovan or Robert De Niro. You practise here in Bengali. That’s totally a matter of fate. But would you say Calcutta has given us our tunes and your thoughts? It’s what we have assimilated from the world and put Calcutta into it. There are many others who belong utterly to Calcutta. Why can’t they write what you write? Chanda is serving Burmese food here. Why? It’s Myanmar that has made her, see?

Anjan: Why didn’t you get married?

Amyt: Didn’t feel the need.

Anjan: Girlfriends?

Amyt: Many… many…

Anjan: God?

Amyt: My God is my guitar. I don’t think there is someone judging us. If there is God, why is there so much suffering every day… rape, poverty, violence. There must be an equally powerful Satan.

Anjan: We both belong to the entertainment industry. What is your take on today’s industry?

Amyt: Too many people posing, faking it. They have zero craft. They think they are good ’cause the industry supremos are uneducated. There is no support system for art here. No schools, no correct etiquette for it, the right spirit to evaluate. Entertainment cannot be for the sake of entertainment. It’s a way of life.

Anjan: Yet you are cool…

Amyt: My mom’s the coolest person ever. She comes from the family of Raichand Boral… but she pushed me towards the guitar. Being cool is not just speaking English with a twang. But to be what you are makes you truly hip. The decor of Chanda’s restaurant, the music she plays, it’s all a part of being cool. She is a mom, I have seen in her dealings with Neel, yet she is hip.

Anjan: How is it playing for Neel, or any of your students for that matter?

Amyt: There is a sense of joy. Neel maybe like my kid brother, but when I’m playing I am playing for our friendship. True friendship can create great music. But when I play professionally, the guy I play for better be better than me.

(We continue eating and the city passes by outside the window)

 

Like Amyt Datta, are you willing to get hurt to do the thing you love?
Tell t2@abp.in