The Economics of Food in Hindu Hostel

There are two states in which one can expect to meet a Hindu Hostelite: hungry and not-so-hungry. If Hindu Hostel were an economy, food would be its dominant industry. Of course, Hindu Hostel, like every other place, does not have one economics, but a large variety and dimensions of economics; and a lot of minor stories contribute towards building the larger picture. This piece is an attempt to capture the essence of the stories that determine the economics of food here.

In Hindu Hostel, food ceases being just food, and defines the political economy of the place. Where one generally eats – the mess, the different canteens or restaurants outside – defines the class structure of the hostel more than any other single parameter, brand of cigarettes coming a close second. It is easy to understand why. Hostelites live within a fixed budget and much of that is devoted to the pursuit of non-hunger. After the initial days as a fresher of going to eat together in the mess as a group, the dynamics of class dominate our eating preferences. In my time as a hostelite, I have lived with friends who frequented Food Station, others who ate lunch and dinner at the mess with snacks at the canteens, and yet others who ate only two meals, both at the mess. This choice is determined more by the ‘budget constraint’ than the ‘tastes and preferences’ that your friend from Economics talks about.

However, if we enter the hostel as homo economicus, eating only at the mess or only at Shankarda’s canteen or only at Podu’s, one imbibes a camaraderie in the Hostel that is inherently egalitarian. So no matter which budget you follow, there is not a soul in the hostel who is not excited by the prospect of the monthly Grand Feast. And cha at CMC in the dead of night is staple, even if fancier options are available to one. These acts may defy economic logic; after all, why will someone with the money to go to CCD, choose not to? But Hindu Hostel is that kind of a place. The sense of tradition and camaraderie eventually overpowers the class distinctions, helped along by the fact that they create the long-lasting memories that dry economics cannot.

Calcutta- A Culinary Experience

Even today, before I leave home to return to Calcutta, my mother will ask me what food I will carry with me to eat on the train. I wouldn’t dare compare her culinary skills with that of those who serve plastic-ky somethings on India’s trains. But then every time this exchange takes place between mother and son, I am reminded of the relatively regal days at home that are to last no more. Alas! No more ready-made breakfast, no more nagging to eat lunch, and no unlimited snacks in the evening to go with a mug of coffee. Leaving home is depressing indeed!

I want to warn those who might be reading this that being a personal note and me not being much of a socialite, my experiences are mostly limited to the areas around where I’ve stayed and as a hosteler, highly constrained by finances.

I remember the desperation and purposelessness of the early days at Hindu Hostel, when every morning and every day would bring with it the renewed realisation of my distance from those I know and love. Despite the high of staying alone, I was the outsider among familiars, and the outsider among outsiders. I have vague remembrances of those days, and nothing exceptional. Every two weeks, my pockets would have enough for a meal at The Royal Indian Hotel on Rabindra Sarani. The menu card informed me the first time I went there regarding the history of the biryani.