Kolkata - City of Joy

Home sweet home....

Yes its been six years since I have left Cal now and I won't be going back to stay there permanently anymore - but the memroies are there.The rains here in Delhi are now bringing back my memories and making me all nostalgic for Cal. I always say Cal or Kolkata - I hate it when some of my non Bong friends pronounce it 'KOLKATTA with emphasis on the t'

You just don't get chat anywhere in India like the chat you get in Cal.I miss the puchkas (2 takaar 4 te) and the churmur (pronounced choor moor) - a gooey mishmash of papdi and broken golgappas and imli ki chutni and lots of masala eaten in a bowl made of dried leaves and you use a papdi as a spoon. I miss the jhaal muri. One sureshot way we knew we'd entered the domain of West Bengal was when the mooriwalas would board the train from Jamshedpur and we'd buy jhaal muri worth five whole bucks and even then we'd argue with the guy saying the quantity had decreased. I miss the chicken rolls and the kaababs (spelled the way it is pronounced) and the egg roll and the mutton chop and the momos and chicken haakka (again spelled the way it is pronounced) and I miss the ice cream walas ka ghanti going tring tring at 4 pm when all the adults would be fast asleep and we kids would pool our paisas together and then 4 of us would share a vanilla cup (which used to be the cheapest). I miss having fish fry from Benfish and telling people that the nearest landmark to my house is 'Paanjaab bank' (you get the drift by now).

I miss the camardarie and the warmth of my para where everyone knows everyone - where the moment my taxi would pull up in front of my house on my return from hostel all the doors and windows of adjoining houses would open up and immediately all the kakimas (aunties) and didas (sundry grandmoms) would start saying ' Eki re...Poonaye ki tui khaaoa daaoa korish na theek kore? Dekh ki shukiye geche re ei meyeta' (What is this - don't you eat properly in Pune? You'v become so thin). I miss going to someone's house and immediately being plied with jol, mamlet (you were fed omlettes if you showed up between 10 - 1 in the morning and 3 - 8 in the evening), parle - g ba marie biskut ( parle/marie biscuits), lotsa mishti (sandesh/chamcham/channar toast/ras malai)....the list is endless. I miss the community feeling where all of us would gather on Ekadoshi (The 11th day of the Durga Puja) to watch the natok (drama) put up by the baachas in the para. I miss serving the para kakus (uncles) during bhog who would sit down to eat only after they had ensured that every single person in our block right form the oldest to the youngest, the richest to the poorest had eaten the labda, khichuri, aachar, papod and chatni (That was always the menu year after year). I miss seeing the entire city decked up for the Pujo with people out in their Sunday bests roaming from Garia to Sribhumi to Deshapriya Park to see the pandals.

I miss the bhelpuri wala who used to sit right outside school. I miss my friends. I miss City Centre'er Crispy Chicken. I miss the evening walks and games which culminate either in CA Market having rolls and thereafter on the steps of City Centre. I miss the wramth of my city. I miss the feeling of knowing that its impossible to lose your way there - someone or the other would lead you onto the right track and tell you 'Take 235, and get off at Minto Park, cross the road and then take S21. Tell the conductor to tell you when the stop comes.' I miss knowing that wherever I maybe in he city I still have a home in every para (Thanks to my innumerable relatives and friends). I miss the fests of our school days and the intense competition we used to have in HAM, JAM, Quiz etc etc etc. I miss going all the way from Salt Lake to Golpark just to buy that one book which you were just not getting in Landmark and CRosswords, despite placing orders for it a hundred times. I miss roaming the gallis of New Market wanting to buy everything I saw. I miss the joyous feeling when we could see Howrah Bridge as the train was pulling in. I miss the tram rides along the race course and cutting across the Maidan to get to Sangam Gate.I miss the intense conversation I used to have with my co-passengers on the bus rides. I miss going to Central Park for bhutta. I miss the chuttis we used to get when it used to pour and the lane leading to our school would get flooded. I miss wading through knee-deep water holding hands.I miss the songs and dances of Cal. I miss the hazaar pujas we used to have. I miss the bandhs when we would play baddy and cricket on the streets. I miss my friends who are all now in different parts of the country because of studies and/or work. I miss the impromptu adda sessions we use to have across the balconies.I miss the early morning trips to Dakhineshwar and the achars you get right outside Gangurams and then the boat ride to Belur Math.

I MISS CAL. I MAY NOT BE LIVING THERE ANY MORE, BUT ALOT OF LOVELY MEMORIES ARE THERE - AND OF COURSE MY PARENTS

I MISS CAL...PERIOD

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