My last blog was my foray into something I have always yearned to do…. Write a travelogue, each word in it reflecting every bit of emotion I go through, every ounce of excitement I feel, every nuance of every remarkable experience I encounter…. A fine mesh of the Good and the Bad, that tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel like you were there with me at every place I was a tourist at. The saga continues….
Kolkata. You could ask me, why Kolkata? It is where my home is, right? Wrong. I hail from a quaint, little hamlet called Kurseong in the Queen of Hills, the Himalayas. A small hill-top town where everybody knows everybody. People are bound by the threads of love, harmony and togetherness. But then, that is another story, the one with the paranormal touch. Do your homework before that/; Google Haunted Dow Hill in Kurseong. And wait for my take on it.
Kolkata is my second home, where I shifted to for my higher studies. But I have never got to stay there long enough. Hostel life, my constant yearning to travel, trainings, projects, PhD, Post Doc, all kept me away from spending too much time in the city that imbibed in me the passion for literature, and creative writing. The land of Rabindra Nath Tagore, Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, Bibhuti Bhushan Chatterjee, Ashapurna Devi, Satyajit Ray, and a whole lot of others, inspired me with their free spirited writing styles, emphasizing with each of their words, that an artist has no limits. An artist only needs to feel, a trait that everything I write manifests to the last punctuation mark at the end.
Kolkata is a gastronomer’s delight. And in early February 2024, when I visited Kolkata for a training project as the Super Trainer, I decided to ditch my fanaticism for healthy, low calorie (also pretty tasteless) food and indulge in the colours and flavours of a culinary trail across Kolkata. A breakfast of piping hot matar kachoris and that amazingly mouthwatering alu sabzi with that hint of asafoetida, complimented with a kulhad of steaming hot chai at Kanhaiya’s in Burrabazar, to lunching on the best biriyani in town with that huge chunk of potato (so quintessentially Kolkata!), a boiled egg and succulent pieces of chicken at Arsalan on Park Circus, to a tall glass of daab sharbat at the 100+ year old Paramount on College Street, to gorging on Chinese food at Bigg Boss at Tangra… Evenings well spent on bonding with friends and cousins over jhalmuri and puchka, to savouring a full course Bengali lunch made by Mommy Darling at home (she almost had a heart attack when I said I wanted one) ….. Tea and special cookies at the Raj Bhavan, Kolkata to freshly caught prawns batter fried on a boat in the Sundarbans……. The tastes shall remain with me for years to come. (And the hours of intermittent fasting for weeks after, with one extra hour of brisk walking every day.)
On the last evening, I was struck by waves of nostalgia and decided to take a walk down memory lane, with a very, very special someone. A visit to the Indian Museum (I am a history lover, I have spent weeks and weeks at London Museum soaking everything in), a walk on the pavements of College Street amongst the smell of old books in the shop s alongside, a prayer offered to Maa Kali at Kalighat, and just sitting on the stairs of Darbhanga Building at Calcutta University, brought back memories I thought I had long forgotten.
They say the best things in life are free. And I couldn’t agree more. The very same evening, the sunset on the Ganga at Princep Ghat will be etched on my heart for eons now. The sheer kaleidoscope of colours and their myriad shades across the canvas of the sky, the most vibrant refection in the gently waving waters below, the soft sway of the sailing boats, and the melody in the chirps of the birds around, the immense beauty of everything was mesmerising to say the least.
Kolkata has always held a special place in my heart and in my world. It is, of course, second best to growing up amongst tea gardens and orange orchards, but still, very, very special. Kolkata is what made me, ME.
They say, Home is where the Heart is. Mine is in Kolkata, jaake boddo bhalobashi.
So, here it is…. My Kolkata Story. See you in the next one. Till then, keep reading, spread cheer!
