Memories
Traipsing in Kolkata
As the plane carrying me touched down at Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose on a late autumn day, myriad memories rushed into my mind. The fragrance of the dust of Kolkata reminded me of my parents and the life I had led in this ever expanding and beautiful city. The road from the airport was different from what it used to be. It was a quiet peaceful city with less traffic and of course less pollution. Huge buildings and shopping malls made me a little confused and I wondered whether I was in Kolkata or abroad. But does this really mean development? In a way, yes . But then the little children still eat from rubbish dumps and the water still has to be boiled and filtered. The slums have increased and the public toilets need regular cleaning. Development should be holistic, not city centric. However, the smells and fragrances are still the same and the nature of people in this beautiful city so pleasing and warm. The old man at the corner shop still smiles and the dalpuriwala at the end of the road where I lived still makes the much in demand item, to b consumed by people who are happy with the little pleasures of life. New Market with its red building standing in all its glory offers that satisfaction to me that even Harrods cannot. The cake shops called Nahoum and Flury's still exist only the little children outside these places are not the same maybe children of a generation whose forefathers also sold sweets in front of Mocambo or Trincas that is now history. Huge showrooms to display Porsche and Ferrari are now being constructed but the hand pulled rickshaw puller still pulls in the scorching heat and the incessant rain. Has his life changed? Maybe it never will and he will pull along the dusty and uneven roads as huge four wheelers pass by. I watched and stared at the progress and thought of the days when we would be happy with so little for so long. When I come to Kolkata now I look for the best shops and the best cuisine. Gone are the days when I could have a Cadbury and a quality ice cream costing me just a rupee. Life has changed and so have people's desires and level of achievement. My brother took me to Raichak on the Ganges. The serenity there reminded me of Belgium or Florence in Italy. The sunset brought back fond memories of the sunset in Kolkata when my father would take me for ice cream to the maidans of Victoria Memorial. There was no security in those days , no traffic like today , just smiling safe poochkawalas and ice cream sellers making you feel at home in the open maidan. A visit to Loreto Elliot Road was so nostalgic. I stood in the same playground where we used to rehearse for Independence day. The old darwan is no more and none of the old teachers are there. New faces and new ideas welcomed me in a new setting. As my school friend drove me through the dusty streets of Kolkata , I passed houses I had visited, friends homes I had spent time in, and roads that were part and parcel of my daily life. New roads have been built , new malls and buildings erected but the hues and smells of days gone by still play like that film reel that needs rewinding over and over again. And I still remember the little boy with one eye who I watched from my family home go out every morning to get water for the day's work for his mother. Maybe he is old now , still with one eye trying hard to meet up with life's many demands. The birds still fly over the Howrah bridge to far off lands and the time will come , not much later, for me to leave this land of dreams and blatant reality that India has to offer. I shall leave with the sweet smell of grass that grows around my parents' graves and indelible impressions of love and fondness with which my friends showered with on this visit.
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