Kolkata has been a part of my itinerary for more than 30 times in the last 7 years. Each time I travel home from my work place or vice-versa, it has been a connecting land for me. 7-8 hrs of stay each time, after all isn’t a small time to know any place better. A city of life and speed, Kolkata has been one of the business capitals for years. It’s a city of survival. The proverb, “survival of the fittest” do not hold true here. From a labor class to a high profile delegates, everybody has something to live with, in this glamorous city. And nothing has ever changed.
On one hand where the entire nation is fighting the rising prices, Kolkata still have the same importance of its 25 paisa coin. I guess the only place where it still exists. I remember, on a hot afternoon while on my way back home from Nagpur, I had a sight of a lemon-water vendor. I had a glass of cool drink for which I offered 10 bucks. The shopkeeper requested me for change. I wondered if I had offered 100 bucks instead. (Elsewhere in the country and especially in metro and metropolitan cities it normally used to be 8 or 10 bucks a glass.)I reverted back “what more change you need”. “Ab 2 rupay ke liye sab 10 ka note denge to kaise chalega sarkaar” replied the shopkeeper. I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. And things continue to be the same.
Since then I never miss to try out anything which catches my attention. And each time I do so I love misjudging the prices. That’s the city Kolkata.
Every time I happen to be here, I just keep on wondering what makes this city so unique. Though I never wish to stay back or settle here, but the few hours of stay for my connecting journey is something, just about sufficient enough to fill my appetite for this city.
In all these years I have been noticing the architecture of the building and shops besides the road. Most of them look like the one, built at the times of British, and the Indians still love them.
It’s a different thing that if I would have hated British and things would have been under my control, I would have demolished each and every construction including the Howrah Bridge, which could symbolize my hatred toward them. But things aren’t that way.
All through the way one can see the wooden railings and the windows collapsing partially, which would come down any time, but in all these years, it has maintained itself as it is. The black turned wooden work of the windows and railings, incredibly decorated with multi layered spider’s web are something of great interest to me. Whenever I see them, it reminds me of my childhood when fearing the nib of the pencil to be broken; I preferred not to sharpen them. Who knows, it might be the same with those web laden windows and doors, which is preventing them to be cleaned.
While on my way from the airport to the Howrah station, each square seemed to be the same as the one of the Bada bazaar. Same crowd, same shops and same construction with wooden work laden with incredible spider’s web!
I would say people are more creative and thoughtful when alone and sometime when ill. Waiting eagerly to reach the station, I continuously kept on staring each and every shop and squares, each of them resembles to be the one where I had been earlier, but it wasn’t.
The city busses driven on roads combined with trams tracks in between caught my imagination once again. I started looking for any similarity between the buses. The only common thing I found was that it moved. The busses had multiple fractures, patched with tins of different colors. Same was the condition of the trams. No one knows how many times they have collided against each other. The bus drivers too seemed to be classical-Men in the age group of 45 to 50, wearing slim shirts and vintage eyeglasses which are fortunately in fashion at present, but for them it’s their trademark.
My journey this time was different than regular. It was my illness which led to this journey. I was in real pain and suffering and my only ambition was to take my last breath at my home with my family. Trying to keep myself composed I tried to overcome my nervousness, I kept on engaging myself with whatever activities I could.
As I tried to virtually entertain me I noticed an old lady struggling with her cough and the stress of reaching the hall upstairs. I wondered how difficult it is for the elders to cope with the world. Their existence is a complete challenge. I was quick to realize that my pain was quite temporary and superficial as compared to her. I went deep into thoughts of what would have been going in her mind.
Looking at her pain I wondered if, ever, anything changes. I really doubt! May be sometime later in my old age I would be sitting in the place of that old women and someone as young as me, would be sitting and observing me and the world around, trying to read nature’s law, but still believe me, the findings would be yet again the same..” nothing changes only the perception change”
