These pictures are not comprehensive, nor are they supposed to be! They are just some of the glimpses to my Calcutta – the City that gave me soooo much, the city that made me who I am, without asking ever anything in return!
Amar Kolkata. Amar adorer Kolkata!!. My Calcutta. My adorable Calcutta. To you...
The making of the Bong intellectual
Notice the thick rimmed glasses! The passion with which he clings to the book. Another bibliophile? More than that! It’s a phenomena is action!! The making of the Bonling intellectual. Wait till he grows 18 to recite Neruda!! 
Oh Fish! If he doesn’t walk fast enough, he will miss the Bengali Bhadrolok waiting for that special ware that makes or breaks their day – fresh fish. Didn’t you know? All bongs are Aquarians! Gastronomically!! 
Aditi (cosying up to Somen on the bench): How about an ice cream for starters?
“Like two citadels, they stand on guard, a roving eye on anyone who dares to enter the City of Palaces!”
And with them the innumerable Ghats that throng the river bank.
Every inconceivable part of the human journey – from birth to death, from puja to potty – starts and ends here.Sporty!!
The city is sports crazy! Cricket carzy!!. Now there are three ways of enjoying cricket.
Way one – my style, playing truant from school on a winter a’noon. Defo advisable, especially if you happen to 'love' certain subjects like chemistry etc..
Way three – Eden Gardens! Watch in style! With 1, 00, 000 people. Phenomenal experience. Classroom per excellence .. Sunny Gavaskar taught me the virtues of patience; Kapil aggression and Richards attitude and flamboyance! Debted for life.
Sometime in 2400 AD, an historian will observe about Calcutta … “One peculiarity of this city was the furor caused by four of its chief street inhabitants - The ever eager Calcutta traffic police who would try to control traffic. And the rickshaw puller, the yellow ubiquitous Cal cab and the tram who would jointly try to undo the sergeant’s good efforts! 
Whosoever said that Calcutta is the city of bandhs should be slapped! Bandh is not a recent phenomenon, so please stop maligning us! Bandh is part and parcel of Calcutta daily life, right from its inception..
City of contradictions
City of poverty. City of madness. City of hunger. City of decay.
Also .... City of kindness. City of angels. City of joy!
Phuchka ….
No its not Panipuri! And for God’s sake, please don’t mix it with Golgappa! Its Phuchka. P-H-U-C-H-K-A. Crispy, with potato and special masala and tetuljol! pop it in aaaaaand .... 'Absolute bliss'!!!
Chowrunghee
It embodies the essence of Calcutta. Adapting to the rich and the poor, the dharnas as well as parades, it is the heart of Calcutta. Where else will you find street urchins doing potty with carefree abandon, tourists smarting out of
Grand Oberoi, industrialists honking their latest Mercs, students haggling over movie tickets at Metro and journos debating over a ‘bhar’ of piping tea. Peaceful coexistence! Not to forget, the cacophony of the Anglo Indian community which has made Chowringree so special (remember 36 Chowringhee Lane!!)
Throughout the day, he has different sawaris! Rich and poor, old and young! Trendy and cute!!
But when the day is gone 
and night has descended, when all sawaris have been safely dropped home and the work of the day is done, his legs take a rest and his flute starts talking. Music of good old days. Tales of sadness and happiness!! Notes of frustration and endearment. Night falls. The city sleeps.
2 comments:
REALLY Good pictures man!...great post anyway...will look out for more..
Calcutta
The word is a mouthful
Of fourth floor breeze,
Orange skies, thunder,
Purple lightning,
Floods, small kids
The muddy Hoogly;
Ananda Shankar; Robindro Sangeet, poila Baisakh rains,
Gariahat, Jor Bagh
And Bou Di.
Dhakai cottons, nolen Gurer sondesh
Durga Puja, Pandal.
Arguments over Maach,Tel and bhaji.
It is a single thread wrapped
Around three years
A single sentence that spills over
In three journals, albums,
Cane chairs, names, embroidered dresses
For little girls
And the rains.
Pukurs, books, writers, addas,
A home bereft of perfect arrangements.
And time held back in old havelis.
Calcutta,
You will always run
Like rusted tram lines in my life.
Slow, loved, never gone.
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