05/09/2016
Via: Bindu Nair Varma
Via WhatsApp .
Calcutta........
To understand Calcutta, you have to understand its nerve, its culture, its people. Calcutta is not about highrises, Calcutta is not about money, Calcutta is not about the language barriers, Calcutta is all about simplicity.
The middle aged uncle who doesn't know Hindi - Ask him for directions. He will not only give you directions, with his heavily accented Bengali-Hindi, jumbling the gender but he will also give you some advice to not roam around in the scorching sun without an umbrella.
The young 'anarchist' jholawala bearded guy - Ask him about the origin of languages. He will tell you everything about the origin of Indo-Aryan languages. He will finish with a poetry from Tulsidas or Kabir. He speaks bengali but his love for languages is not limited.
The mechanic who refused to open his shop in the afternoon for his daily nap. Ask him for help during a midnight breakdown. He will do it happily, free of cost. Calcutta is not professional, but who said all joys of life are not free?
That formals clad guy in his Bangalore office who will crib about Calcutta to his last day of office. Try insulting Calcutta in front of him. He will defend Calcutta to his last breath like his first love.
I have loved and loathed this city.
This city has given me everything and taken everything away from me. But I cannot let go of this city ever. The city still speaks to me, of me.
Calcutta is not a city, it is our first love. We took our first puff in Russel Street. We had our first kiss in princep ghat. We saw our first love walking away with someone in Park Street. We failed our first exam in this city. We forgot our first failure in oly pub. We saw the city getting stopped over political issues. We took the streets to change something bigger than our daily life. We raised our first voice against the system on the streets of Calcutta.
We first heard “Darbari Kanada” on a harmonium from the windows of our neighbour. We learnt about “bharatanatyam” when we saw the 9 year old Puchki( neighbours daughter) perform in a “para” function. We spent our afternoons in college street smelling old books.
We saw a bunch of people rushing into a burning ground of book fair just to save some books. We saw people with no connection to the bookstores, crying out loud holding the ashes of burned out book fair grounds, for days. We saw people dedicating their whole life to change the system. We saw people leaving plush job offers to change the world into a better place.
Calcutta may not be perfect. She need not be rich. She need not be the most beautiful model. She need not be extremely intelligent. Still Calcutta is our first love. We have our own relationship. We hated her, we all wanted to move out, we all wanted to crib about everything. But every pujo we secretly hope to see her again.