Autumnal Blues

During autumn, each year, Kolkata gears up for the autumnal festivals........ the biggest of which is Durga Puja. The fun and festivities are anticipated well in advance, the plans are made by the revelers, and the days of celebrations whiz past us - as if in a jiffy. Right now, we are awaiting more excitement, more enjoyment, as, post Durga Puja, it is the turn of the other festivities, climaxing with Kali Puja and Diwali. 

Why does my heart feel heavy? 
What do I apprehend? 
What does fear lurk in my heart? 
What are the myriad hues that catch me unawares? 
Why has my soul been singing the perennial autumnal blues?

At the end of it all....... 'Abosheshey'

Abosheshey (At the end of it all) is a film that has touched me deep.

My heart went out to the characters, my heart melted with the protagonist's passion and zest for life. It is indeed one of the best Bangla films made in recent years. Interestingly, the film marks the debut of director Aditi Roy, aided brilliantly by the principal cast, the flawless cinematography of Ranjan Palit, and the praiseworthy musical soundtrack designed by Prabuddha Banerjee.
It is essentially a mother-son story, and as a special friend of mine has rightly observed that mother-son films seldom fail, principally for us Bangalis who (much like the Irish and the Hispanics have a cultural tradition that is steeped in special mother-son bondings). However, this film - despite the much-recognized motifs - is much more than a mother-son story. It deals with emancipation, loss, identity, legacy and continuity.

Ankur Khanna plays the son who connects with her estranged, and now dead, mother, Suchishmita (Roopa Ganguly) who has left a long letter for him, desperately hoping that one day he would return to his city of birth and would make an effort to know the city and also his long lost childhood from which he had been detached since his departure along with his dad (to America). The son eventually gets to know her, through all those intrinsic contents that made her the person that she was, of which he had been completely oblivious, and he is also able to discover the many unknown facets that intertwine though time.

The fact that the film celebrates nostalgia is reason enough for someone like me to love it. I can't help shamelessly craving for nostalgia. People who know me well say, that I am a sucker for nostalgia and, according to a dear friend, it is on account of my being a sucker for romance. I love serenading the nature, and the hills form the idyllic setting in my dreamscape, though in reality I have never been to a hill station, not yet. I have a love-hate relationship with the city of Kolkata, where I have been almost all my life, and the film has Kolkata as a character. The things said through words, and visuals, about the city of Kolkata are something that I fully empathize with.

Apart from Roopa Ganguly and Ankur Khanna, the cast includes Raima Sen, Sudipta Chakraborty, Suman Mukherjee, Manasi Sinha, Arijit Dutta, Ronjini Chakraborty, Bodhisatva Majumdar, Kamalika Banerjee, Avijit Guha, Amitabh Bhattacharya and Deepankar De.

Endnote: Nothing remains forever. But the memories linger on. Memories haunt and reshape the minds of those who are left behind by the dear departed. Sieving through memories may be a mellow process, but need not be steeped in melodrama, the narrative even unfolds a wee bit of suspense which steps up the dramaturgy but it never allows melodramatic excesses. In fact, the director, with the help of the editor Abhro Banerjee, has shown exceptional control and restraint.

Ani and Bonnie: Talking KKR, SRK and Didi

Talking point: Kolkata Knight Riders winning the IPL trophy and 
thereafter being honored by the CM of West Bengal, Mamata Banerjee. 
Questions thrown up: Was it worth the hoopla by the government? 
Was it a case of Didi hijacking the show? 
Was it a case of an ambitious politician hitching on for selfish mileage? 
Was it a drainage of funds?
Was it a case of mutual back-slapping for ulterior gains?
Was the IPL victory blown out of proportion?
Was KKR's feat more an SRK feat?
Did the event expose West Bengal's Governor's blatant bias?
I wanted to have an overview of the controversy myself
and hence who else to talk it over with but my buddy Bonnie?
Here are the excerpts of our candid conversation:
Bonnie: I would say that the questions need to be asked. They are very much relevant because we need to find out if our state has really been suffering from an intellectual bankruptcy as evident from the manner in which a large section of the so called intelligent citizens choose to dance to the tunes of a piper who is at best a megalomaniac, and if our fears prove right, is an outright fascist dictator.
Ani: Isn't it also a case of unnecessary flak for an over-enthusiastic leader who simply chooses to do things her own way, swayed more by emotions than anything else?
Bonnie: Well, one in as powerful position as hers is required to tone down what you may put lightly as an overdose of emotions or enthusiasm. Did she really need to host two major events of felicitation for SRK's team, one in front of the Writer's Building and then the main event at Eden Gardens?
Ani: But you cannot deny the mass frenzy, the hysteria...... can you? People were overwhelmed by the long anticipated victory and the throng of masses to greet the players both along the route in which the team bus travelled and at Eden Gardens itself said it all.......
Bonnie: But, how could the CM see in it a victory of epic proportions? She said that it was Bengal's victory..... that it was like winning the world! Why deny that KKR is a private team...... the felicitation was just an excuse for Mamata Banerjee to hog the limelight....... the way she strutted the stadium or the way she wielded complete control - or at least tried to - is the flamboyance that we are all so used to by now, but it was a revelation for the entire nation, wasn't it? Undoubtedly, it is us Bengalis who would be lampooned yet again!
Ani: I wasn't so sure that the 'Purple Pride' was synonymous with Bangla and Bangalis while the IPL was in full swing, but after the victory, and more so after the riotous circus today, Bangalis are basking in the pride alright.......
Bonnie: You see, that was in the very scheme of things...... one surely would overlook the major lapses of the 'green' party's governance and would not even mind giving the 'supremo' a benefit of doubt, the purple-green combo would be tinting the glasses of the opiate alright.
Ani: I would like to leave the inferences and the final say to all the readers........ plus, time will reflect the arguments and counter arguments best........ remember, he (or she) laughs the loudest who laughs last!
There's no endnote in politics, or in sports. The game's always on.

Christmas Merriments

Christmas in Kolkata isn't about looking at snowclad
landscapes or singing carols by the fireplace or other such things that the images from the West have always haunted us with..... thanks to umpteen films and books and television specials, but Kolkata dazzles and shines in its own way at Christmas.
The Christmas revelries in Kolkata obviously dates back to the colonial past which still makes the citizens nostalgic about many a good thing that has had Kolkata (then called Calcutta) basking in the Yuletide merriments.

In my childhood, I remember some of the traditional centreposts
of the city's British heritage still being there and, despite makeovers and evolutionary changes, decorated rather regally.
I am talking about Park Street and its string of eateries
on both sides of the street, the New Market, the entire stretch
from Lindsay Street to Esplanade, the shops in front of Tiger cinema and the Grand Hotel, used to thrill me with their aura and splendour.

For a young child, the Christmas merriments used to be simple
yet plentiful.... watching a movie at the Lighthouse cinema,
or at Metro, or New Empire....
feasting on the scrumptious delights....
laying hands on some cherished toy-cars.... the list goes on.
But nothing can beat the joy of me and my sister finding our socks filled with goodies galore on the morning of Christmas.
I do not till date know how my mother - a far cry from one who would happily imbibe a a typically Western custom - made my Dad a co-conspirator to play Santa Claus.
Christmas makes most of us relish the days gone by.

For most people childhood remains the best part of their life,
and most have a lot of memories to cherish, wishing they could
revisit their childhood and re-live those moments.
I, however, am not too fond of my childhood per se,
but I surely do miss the Christmas merriments now.
They seem like oases of hope and promise, from afar.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!~

Ani & Bonnie: Talking Pujo

Ani: Shubho Bijaya, buddy.... hope you had good times...

Bonnie: Shubho Bijaya to you too. Ya, the Pujas are fun, no matter what.

Ani: Why the 'no matter what' tag?

Bonnie: Because of the simple reason that different people enjoy it differently.

Ani: That's true. But it is enjoyment that matters, and I think no other festival involves so many people all at once and helps them let down their hair and have fun. People just let go of their stifling routines and enjoy, in the collective spirit.

Bonnie: Oh.... that's a tall order, but yes, more people are seen smiling than not.

Ani: Come on, don't be an exclusivist, you scowl like a cynic!

Bonnie: I know, I may sound cynical, you know that the religion and the dictates might take a backseat here and there.... however, basically, DurgaPujo is all about a certain majoritarianism. It's not as inclusive a festival as we might think it is.

Ani: Hmmmm..... you have gone deep in your analysis.

Bonnie: Ohkkkaay..... won't spoil your mood. So, what exactly do you want me to talk about?

Ani: Look, since childhood, I have never been much into the exhaustive and wholesome celebration of DurgaPujo, and it was much like the accounts of Rituparno Ghosh, where he talks about the innocent questionings and the simultaneous personalized fancies.

Bonnie: But, I thought, you were more like the Chandril of yesteryears (Ekla Pujo Folkla Pujo, remember?)....

Ani: Hahaha..... that was a phase in my adulthood.... the University days.

Bonnie: Speaking of Chandril reminds me of the giant billboards seen this year at major Pujo pandals where he is seen embracing his friends with the toothy grin on his face, all for the lure of lucre, eh... that too for a coconut oil giant!

Ani: That's a way of looking at things, maybe he has evolved. All artistes should, else they might stagnate. Pujo has evolved too, no?

Bonnie: True, DurgaPujo is much more than an annual faith-based ritual now, it's a mammoth social event in Kolkata's calendar. Hence the flow of big money, the corporate giants, the muscle power of the political goons, the hysteria for Pujo themes, the tug-of-war for getting the high-profile celebs for inauguration and even for them showcasing the event as brand-ambassadors.....!

Ani: But don't you think pandal-hopping has become even more difficult a task in general, with the chaotic traffic and the crowding at the big locations?

Bonnie: Absolutely so.... but then, there's the soft option for the unwilling to have a peek at all the big Pujo pandals and the extensive affairs therein right from their drawing rooms, courtesy numerous television channels and their sponsored live broadcasts.

Ani: By the way, what was the latest and most striking feature that came to your notice this year? Let's round up our discussion with that....

Bonnie: Easy-peazy... lemon squeezy... that's an easy one. The most electrifying part of the Pujas is definitely the immersion ceremony, better known as visarjan, or bhaashaan, and this year reached a new high with the disco bhaashaan that beat the immersion blues like crazy..... young guys, often bare-bodied - displaying their well sculpted gym-bred torsos, and gallant girls grooving in a brazen manner on the roads which got converted to mobile discos thanks to strobe lights and what not cruising along gently, right in front of them in a separate lorry, or tempo, blasting the latest remixed tracks at full volume..... unbelievable raw sexuality.... beats the inebriation of intoxicants of other kinds that have been otherwise rampant over the ages.

Ani: Good heavens!

Bonnie: It's not for nothing that Durga Puja has now earned the moniker 'the Rio carnival of the eastern hemisphere'!

Ani: Wow! I thought that the Pujo trends this year had just ranged from the techno-savvy (be it solar lights and bluetooth facilitated, and air-conditioned venues) displays to the umpteen Tagore tributes, but you have narrated a whole new dimension for me.

Thanks, for all the blabber. It was fun chatting up the festive pomp and show. I hope my readers like it too.

Happy Pujo!

Kolkata exemplifies its spirit best during Durga Pujo, the annual autumnal festival that celebrates much more than the ritualistic traditions involving the worship of the Mother Goddess.

The Pujo frenzy, the madness, the excesses are all pervading, and hard to escape or remain indifferent to, for each and every Kolkatan, and he or she need not belong to any particular sect or creed or community for that. 
Yes, it is that time of the year again!
the festive spirit in the air of the city is unmistakable for even the lay visitor.

The entire city is decked up in resplendent colors, and lights.
The energy is simply infectious, the buoyant spirit happily envelops us.
People go all out and spare no effort to soak in the madness, often to get carried away as well.

I wish all my friends and well-wishers happiness and contentment.
May you all light up from within; do your bit to redeem all darkness.
Happy Pujo!

The Many KOLKATAs

Kolkata, my city, is often shown in films or in television serials as a city which is unanimous with many known facets but, interestingly, it is a far more complex and heterogeneous in reality. Often, I feel that there are many Kolkatas, many fringes, many ghettos, many marginalised sections, many strange & unique dimensions that do not get explored enough in popular media.

This year, I saw Kolkata in its renowned and resplendent visuals in Birsa Dasgupta's debut feature film called "033", but did know whether to laud it for its music-video-like appeal or pass it off as yet another glossing over in a picture-postcard-like depiction.
Again, there was this film called "Mahanagar @Kolkata", by Suman Mukherjee, and it was quite a novel approach, though tad more ambitious than able. The film - for a large part - had brilliant depictions of the underbelly, of the marginalised, decadent segments, and I must salute the courage shown by the director to do so. However, the director failed in the third segment (the film being a collage of three distinct segments, loosely tied up as a single narrative) as he tried to go somewhat offbeat in the portrayal of the desperation and despair of the urban yuppies; it came off as false and hollow apart from being show-offish.
I am happy to note that Kolkata has also been captured in many of this year's Bangla releases like "Shukno Lanka", "Le Chhakka", "Clerk" and "Ekti Taarar Khonje" - with mixed results. "Clerk" (reviewed earlier in my blog) scores highest in its depiction, according to my evaluation, in terms of content and style/manner.
May my city be the lensmen's delight ever more. And may the films too go a step further to show the many of its hitherto undiscovered and untapped aspects.

Bengaluru buzzzzzzz.......

The first time I had visited Bengaluru (still people refer to the city by its earlier name - Bangalore; though the acceptance of the English expression 'getting Bangalored' does not have a note of affirmation), I wasn't too ecstatic about the city.
I remember having said to a friend that Bengaluru wasn't inviting enough for me.
The weather, the greenery, the branded retail outlets, the eat-out joints and the shopping malls & arcades seemed to be the only attractions.
On the other hand, the traffic snarls, the overpriced goods & services put me off to a great extent.
Well, recently, when I visited Bengaluru for the second time, I found that most of the earlier plus-es were big enticements for me.
Being a die-hard Kolkatan, maybe my perception was too biased the previous time and I might have been closed to the acceptance of the city myself.
Add to it the fact that I didn't get much of a chance to explore the city.
There was also the nagging strain of being in a relationship that kept me on tenterhooks.
This time, I found Bengaluru to be quite embracing.

Being a diverse city, Bengaluru accepts people from across the country,
offering them a busy and fast life, ambient lounges and pubs, hi-fashion stores, luxurious malls, lush greenery and a pleasant weather as huge bonuses.
Culturally, the city is quite booming, in fact.
There are all kinds of happening things capturing the fancy of the city's enthusiastic population.
The temples, the marketplaces, the parks, the libraries - all are so spic & span and so very functional.
The sprawling roads, flyovers, under-passes offer smooth rides.
The new airport (the last time I had landed at the old airport which ceased to become operational from that night itself) is wonderfully maintained.
The entrance to the airport is lined with a vast space for the visitors to refesh and relax.
Bengaluru comes with a host of infrastructural facilities that is surely welcome for the tourists and the Bagaloreans alike.
I visited the Mantri Square Mall which is just humongous! The sheer luxury of shopping there must be a huge draw for the international visitors too.
I couldn't resist catching a screening of 'Shrek 4 - 3D' at the Inox Insignia auditorium there.

Though I wasn't missing out on the delicacies of Kolkata on this short stay
in Bengaluru, my sister and brother-in-law treated me to the finest food
at Oh! Calcutta and Lazeez Restaurant and I could see why.
For the Bengalis there, it was the gastronomical connect with their home!
Not all roads and nooks & corners are perfectly planned or visually appealing, of course.
Luckily, where I stayed, not much distant from the new airport, it was close to perfection. I was hugely impressed with the location.
The one road in Bengaluru that deserves special mention, however, is: M.G. Road,
it is the nerve-centre of Bengaluru, with shops on one side and on an embankment adjacent to the army grounds a lovely walkaway, shrouded by trees and bougainvillea.
The other special mention that I must make is that of the cool FM radio station of the city - Radio Indigo. It simply rocks!
As does its cool RJ Rohit Barker.
Before ending this post,
I can't help sharing with my readers a much-popular comparison between
Kolkata and Bengaluru.... it's funny....
and hence no attempt to be politically correct... just read and enjoy:
How to know which city you are in
same scenario, different reflexes -
Two guys are fighting and a third guy comes along,
then a fourth
and they start arguing about who's right.
You know: You are in Kolkata.

Two guys are fighting and a third guy comes...
he writes a software program to stop the fight.
But the fight doesn't stop because of a bug in the program.

That's Bangalore.... oops, Bengaluru!
hahaha..............!!

Scorched! Scarred!

Who'd have expected vultures to hover over Park Street?

After all, Park Street has always been the happily-bustling passageway, where business mixes with pleasure, the upscale meets the lowbrow, and where the overall spirit is that of a joyous celebration of life.

But last Tuesday (23rd March, 2010, a day that Kolkatans can never forget!) Stephen Court - the much recognized, much loved, much filmed, much chronicled, historic building on Park Street - was on fire, and a whole week of gloom has kept me and many other Kolkatan stupefied by the tragedy.
The loss has been immense.
Worse has been the post-blaze state of affairs.

As several charred bodies remained trapped under the immense pile of debris,
and the air had the overwhelming stench of burnt organic and inorganic matter,
and carcasses, the site brought nothing but tears to the eyes of all the passersby who might have traversed along the stretches of Park Street a million times on happy occasions; earlier they might have dined, shopped, made merry, or might have been the regular visitors to the cursed building itself, on work purposes, or otherwise.

It was a case of ravaging agony since that fiery summer afternoon, that blasted Tuesday when the fifth and the sixth floors had become a veritable inferno, engulfing people within, trapped men and women jumped to death, some never made their way out, some were soon charred to ashes, a few others may have even struggled with burnt skin and bloodied limbs, wishing death to come soon, while the roof that had caved in, had beams and mesh of wires and concrete sealing the exit for some of the victims, many struggled hard to go the terrace but, alas, the way to it was sealed, and they got scalded alive on the stairway itself, it was hellish!

Stephen Court (named after Arathoon Stephen, mentioned as the lease-holder for the property at 18A Park Street in the city's civic records dating back to World War I) housed residential as well as commercial establishments, and, in spite of a threat of electrical short-circuits and overloading, had been a mute witness to the much practiced flouting of the fire-safety norms.
Like many of the old, and heritage buildings of the city, it was almost a tinderbox awaiting a tragedy to happen anytime. Though the building has been embroiled in ownership tangles, it has never had a registered flat-owners' association to protect the civic rights of the residents. Originally, the building had just three floors, but the fourth floor was added in the 1930s, and in 1984 two more storeys had been added.
The labyrinthine interiors, the offices with plywood partitions and false ceilings, the indiscriminate use of air-conditioners and several other potential-risk factors made it an impossibility for many to come out alive of the burning building.
As per the latest information released, the death toll has been recorded as 43 (decomposed bodies continued to be unearthed till yesterday), many of them may had died of suffocation before the flames reached them.
The blaze in the top floors of the eight-storey commercial and apartment block could not be controlled even after four hours.
For some of the kith & kin of the those who died in the tragedy, the wit for the bodily remains has been yet another unbelievable nightmare. A few of the bodily remains have dual claimants, and only DNA and bone-marrow hold the promise of a solution to the conflict.
The fire in Stephen Court not only snatched away lives, but also jobs of employees working in offices situated on the two top fire-ravaged floors. For some employees getting another job may be a difficult affair as they have suffered serious injuries while jumping off the building to avoid certain death.
As far as the role of the administration is concerned, it has once again revealed nothing but apathy and nonchalance. Serious criticisms have been levelled against the department fire services, against the Kolkata Municipal Corporation, and even the police.
The saddest part in the aftermath of the tragedy has been the exposing of the officials' penchant for passing-the-buck. No one wants to be accountable, shifting of responsibility on others' shoulders seems to be the skill that some men have been specialising in, over the years. It is a known fact that the firefighters were ill-equipped, and ill-prepared for a large scale fire-fighting operation as this one, and had the sky-lift reached in time, several precious lives could have been saved.
But all that has been promised to the anguished people of the city is a committee, one that threatens to conduct just a farcical probe, to look into the lapses if any, along with suggesting of amendments in the existing rules and laws and fire services.
The carrion-feeding vultures are leaving now, and business promises to return like a phoenix from the ashes, but let's pray that the vulture-like corrupt and power-hungry politicians who love to engage themselves in word-games narrowing in on vote-banks be banished from Kolkata's environs,
just as we pray for peace for the lost souls,
may we never forget the lives lost,
we are ashamed,
we are truly tormented.
We have been scarred.

[Pic courtesy: The Hindu; Google Images]

Kolkata: Chilly Scenes

I had read some years back the book called 'Chilly Scenes of Winter' by Ann Beattie.
I still remember having stumbled upon the book one lazy summer afternoon, at the American Center Library, Kolkata.
It was not just discovering a popular classic. It was also a case of self-discovery for me.
It was an instance of serendipity.
The poignant tale made me cry, made my thoughts crystallize on a number of things.
The association was total.
And - of course -
fulfilling.
Most of my readers are perhaps aware of the wonderful manner in which the book chronicles a year in a man's life after he loses his girlfriend.
And those who haven't read the book, must read it whenever they get a chance.
But the reason I started talking about the book in this post dedicated to Kolkata in winter, is that I would like it very much to see my favorite city - Kolkata - chronicled in contemporary literature (Bangla or English) in the wintry delights and/or pitfalls.
I am yet to come across such a piece of fiction (be it a novel or a short story) - if any of my readers can illuminate on the same, I'd remain grateful.
One of my friends had asked me to write about Kolkata's unique thrills in winter; let me confess that I am not much of a winter-lover so I think others can do more justice to that. However, I oblige by making a mention of just some of the delicacies and delights typical of Kolkata.
The chilly days & nights are just a few. Winter has a short stay in Kolkata. Though it nags and bothers distressingly at the fag end of the season. The chilly scene is enlivened by roadside dwellers and the bunch of homeless people who light up a bonfire with twigs, leaves and what not - unaware of the carcinogenic consequences, they even do not hesitate to burn rubber and plastics.
In my childhood, winter meant three wondrous things:
a mandatory visit to the zoo,
being treated to circus & magic shows, and maybe a film too, if my parents were in a mood to over-indulge,
and, last but not the least, the wintry food fare: ranging from the fresh seasonal vegetables & fruits, to the sweetmeats - notungurer rossogolla, sandesh, and paayesh.
Kolkata isn't as lucky as Delhi when one thinks of the relish of extensive & lavish delicacies from the eponymous Dehlvi cuisine; however, we are lucky enough to be spared the intense bite of the chilly winter that makes me dread Delhi in winter!
The circuses and zoos have become passé, what with the politically correct stand on the animals (can't lament on that too, if the animal rights issues are given a fair consideration) and the local sweetmeats have taken a backseat or are often lost in ignominy as the pizzas, pastries and other confections have gained our preferences.
Yet, winter makes us nostalgic.
Still.
And, the wintry blues rule.
Post Script: Today is the death anniversary of Job Charnock; without him there wouldn't have been the thriving city of Kolkata as we know it; Job Charnock died on this day in 1692. I dedicate this post to that servant and administrator of the English East India Company, traditionally regarded as the founder of Calcutta (Kolkata).

Autumnal Hues

Durga Pujo marks the beginning of the autumnal festive season in Bengal.
It is the time for celebration and togetherness.
It is the time to rejoice and seek the blessings of the divine deity, Maa Durga.
Even for those of us who aren't high on religion and rituals of the Hindu calendar, this time of the year is synonymous with family reunions, and get-together with friends & loved ones.
It is the time to deck up in best clothes and go pandal-hopping especially in and around Kolkata.
It is the time for revelries of the other kind too - like feasting on good food, feasting on the literary treats that are released in form of the annual supplements of magazines & periodicals, feasting on the movies in Bangla (or other languages), and feasting on the music albums released by all the major audio labels,
The festive revelry typically includes even the spinning of real-life love stories,
egged on by the wisp of freshness in the air,
especially during the four days of Durga Pujo.
I can never think of being someplace else during this time.
Only twice in my life I have had to miss out on the celebrations in my favorite city, Kolkata, and, needless to say that I missed my city and its typical sights & sounds a lot.

From Mahalaya to Bijaya Dashami, to Lakshmi Pujo, KaliPujo/Diwali and BhaaiPhonta,
it is a series of festivities. It is much more than the pomp & show, or the Brahminical rituals; for most of us Kolkatans in means basking in the blend of tradition & modernity, of savoring the delectable mix of religious, neo-religious & non-religious sentiments.
It is a time to be nostalgic as well - as if the season itself conspires to evoke nostalgia in us all.
For me, things that I do during the festive days have changed, or rather evolved with time. I hate the excesses. I abhor the noise pollution. I detest the recklessness exhibited by the maddening crowd in the evenings.
But....
I still wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world, during the Pujas.
I wouldn't want to catch the unmistakable autumnal hues, the serene morning air, and the vibrant spirit that is the hallmark of the Pujas in Kolkata.

Kolkata Monsoon

In Kolkata, monsoon has its unique place, in terms of the familiar images.
Though the city has changed much over the years, from its changing skyline to its streets and thoroughfares, there are lots of things that haven't changed.

And such an eternal look of Kolkata is very much visible during the monsoons.

From the water-logged streets to the ferrying of passengers in the hand-pulled rickshaws, it is the same-old-story for us Kolkatans.

For some, it opens the floodgates of memory; for some, it has a romantic appeal; for many, it is just the period of the same soaked-and-leaky sufferings.

From documentaries and feature films, to still photographs & paintings, the rainy season in Kolkata offers rich, visual motifs and inspiring compositions.

Kolkata is always supposed to make one nostalgic if one has had the pleasure or the trauma of getting soggy in the thundershower or wading through streets, lanes & bylanes choked with rainwater merging with the filthy overflowing drains.

Summer distress piling high!!!!

Kolkata has been witnessing a lot of summer distress.

The weather has been playing havoc lately. It seems the weather Gods have been behaving in a thoroughly unpredictable manner!

This year Kolkatans were about to heave a sigh of relief, with the news of an advent early monsoon; but alas, it has been a weak monsoon approach!

First came Aila, the cyclonic storm (which intensified at its peak on May 25,
and caused severe damages in several parts of West Bengal, and especially in North Bengal)
and now this horribly hot & humid weather!
The cyclone Aila is believed to have been responsible for the arrival of early monsoon, but the cyclone has, in its turn, drastically altered the monsoon pattern for the city. It has made the monsoon flow take a detour!!! Hence, no rains.... no signs of respite!


We Kolkatans do not shy away from the summer heat, but this time it has been an extremely uncomfortable weather which has seen the lucky citizens choosing to sit indoors, in the cool comfort of air-conditioned rooms; while the unlucky citizens have had to swoon in the heat outdoors, with only an odd while's rest under a shady tree.

We all have been staring at the cloudy skies.
The clouds have been forming,
dispersing,
and there ain't any rainfall......!

The hapless Kolkatans have been cursing the blasted weather, as the discomfort index is on an all-time high. But curses bring no showers too!

The sweat surge has been the worst ever, in recent years!!!!!!!!

We can only pray that the piling high of distress, of all Kolkatans, be stemmed soon....
very soon!

The Blah-blah Times

The heat is on.
Definitely so.
Here, there, and everywhere.
In Kolkata, the mercury had soared to record levels in the past ten to twelve days, and last Saturday's norwester & brisk shower notwithstanding, the daytime heat is just unbearable.
Plus, the heat generated by the pre-poll exchange of vocal missives by the political parties, and the threat of post-poll flare ups, making things worse for the ones who've been lying low, meek and subdued.
Then there is the ongoing IPL T20 cricket tournament that has had an unbelievably poor show for the Kolkata Knight Riders. Although the matches are being played in the far-off, pleasant-climes-blessed South Africa, the no-show of the Kolkata Knight Riders has meant heated outbursts here, Shah Rukh Khan won't be too happy as he is getting much maligned here, the Kolkatans are piling up their hatred against the high-profile owner of KKR!
As a nation, we are witnessing the dance of democracy, as the parliamentary elections are a witness to newer challenges, newer lows in terms of political conduct, and thus the political atmosphere is getting all heated up, rather getting vitiated! A unique sample of the same, worth mention: As a mark of protest from the electorate, a total of 1473 voters did not exercise their franchise even after visiting the booth on the day of polling in MP!! They recorded their decision not to vote in a special register!!!
In the world of entertainment, discounting the political tamasha as not so entertaining, the tussle between the multiplexes and the Mumbai producers has seen an absence of new Bollywood releases in the theaters nationwide, since April 4. The hot debate, if the multiplexes should stop their muscle flexing and agree to a 50-50 revenue sharing, is still on!!!!
Globally, as if the heat emanating from the economic slowdown was not enough to make the nations bleed, now it is the swine flu outbreak that the World Health Organization has sought a red alert on, to avoid a pandemic spread of the deadly virus!!!!
On the global blah-blah horizon, the newer threats arising from global warming are alarming all and sundry. Major cities could be in jeopardy on account of the same!

Why has the summer become all so gloomy? Isn't summer supposed to be fun at least for the temperate regions of the world? Wish I was in one right now.....
one cannot choose to remain in an air-conditioned room 24X7!

The hand-pulled rickshaws of Kolkata

Hand-pulled rickshaws were introduced in India in the early 1920’s from Far East, and they were adopted into the transport system by British colonisers. They have been described everywhere as so poorly designed that running them for a long time is likely to take a heavy toll on the health of the puller. In Kolkata, even in the twenty-first century, the hand-pulled rickshaws have been a matter of interest for all foreign tourists visiting Kolkata. These rickshaws are usually pulled by the migrant workers who just make a meagre living from them. In fact, these poor folks have been living a life of marginalised existence, on the fringes of penury for quite some time. Their plight has been a humanistic concern for long. Hence, their phasing out was evident; the only issue being when and how.

The hand-pulled rickshaw has been immortalised as a living symbol of Kolkata in films like 'City of Joy'. But due to the cause of concern for the well-being of the rickshaw-pullers, which would soon go off its roads with the state government deciding to replace them with other modes of transport. It was in August, 2005, that the West Bengal Chief Minister Buddhadev Bhattacharjee announced that as the hand-pulled rickshaws had long been considered 'inhuman' and that the practice did not exist anywhere else, a policy decision had been taken to take the hand-drawn rickshaw off the roads of Kolkata on humanitarian grounds. The farewell happened gradually, over eighteen months or so, amidst minor roars of protests, and token protests, and lip-service, given in a routine manner, on rehabilitating the poor rickshaw-pullers.
During Kolkata’s monsoon rains, when the streets are regularly flooded, rickshaws have been used widely, even for trips as short as across the street. The rickshaw-wallahs used to be busy during the sweltering months of spring and summer, when walking the streets seems a hellish ordeal. During these times, the Rickshaw Puller’s Union claims that its members earn approximately Rs. 100 per day, though this figure is almost surely exaggerated. I remember several trips down Lake Market, Gariahat, Minto Park, Ballygunge and Southern Avenue on a hand-pulled rickshaw, called 'taana rickshaa' in Bangla. During the cool days of late autum and winter, most rickshaw-wallahs would be seen sitting idle, clanking their dull-timbred bells against the wooden rails of the rickshaws in vain hope of attracting a passenger. Romantic sojourns along dark alleys on these modes of transport were not too uncommon, nor were the stray incidents of the rickshaws turning over, the passengers still firmly ensconced in the seats, while the rickshaw-puller would be seen hanging on to the side-bars, swaying up in the air till help arrived...... the only casualties might just be the hand-held belongings of the passengers. Such sights are now going to be a thing of the past. Scenes from a Kolkata that was.

Kolkata Calling

Kolkata - my City - has its own unique lure! Kolkata is a city of paradoxes. It is a city that resonates in all die-hard Kolkatans (like me) a sense of pride, attachment, and nostalgia. The Howrah Bridge, the Ochterlony Monument, the trams, the Victoria Memorial Hall, Kalighat, Maidan, New Market are just a few of the unique landmarks and distinctive sights that makes one associate with the old Kolkata of grandeur, heritage and tradition - but the Kolkata of 2008 has moved way ahead, or apart, from the city of yesteryears. Yet, the spirit of the city somehow has still been there, one has to fathom, one has to keep one's senses oriented towards relishing that identity, which lies buried but not banished altogether.

I am often tempted to scrape the surface, and out it comes - the flavours, the fetishes and the fragrances of a city that has witnessed history unfold, that has seen the upheavals, the outrage, the apathy and the endless discontent gnawing from the inner realms, groaning for changes to shape itself up for newer challenges. And yet having stood testimony to national and international transformations & travesties, Kolkata has somehow adopted a stoical stance that few other city has had!

Kolkata retains its own culture, for good or for worse.

Most interestingly, it always generates extreme emotions in anyone visiting the city. Rudyard Kipling's 'The city of dreadful nights' and Rajiv Gandhi's 'A dying city' acts as a counter to such descriptions of the same city as 'The city of joy' by Dominique Lapierre, and 'Calcutta, My El Dorado' by Mrinal Sen.
The city of Calcutta (Kolkata is what the city gets spelled in English of late, almost attempting desperately to mimic the Bengali/Bangla diction) was founded by Job Charnock who started as a junior member of the Council of the Bay of Bengal in 1655. By 1686, Charnock was Governor of the Bay of Bengal based in the settlement of Hooghly. On a monsoon afternoon in August, 1690, Charnock rowed ashore to a swampy village Sutanati. On that day in 1690, Captain Job Charnock founded the city on these three closely placed small villages. The villages soon grew into a city which came to be known as Calcutta. Less than three years later, Charnock was dead. Little did he know he had sown the seed of a Megapolis that would be bursting and exploding with the population boom, creating a havoc in terms of infrastructural problems, the mammoth infiltration malaise (thanks to border states and nations), and creating the perfect 'saleable' imagery of decay, depravity, contrasts and chaos.
My Kolkata is still the city that is my only abode. Kolkata extends its hospitable arms to all and sundry, without discrimination. Hence, that's the ultimate picture that I would love to have ingrained in my consciousness, that of Kolkata Calling.

Kolkata is Changing

I am a die-hard Kolkatan. I love the city in all its multifaceted splendor and squalor. 

It is indeed fascinating to see this very city of mine changing in front of my own eyes! Sometimes I find it so hard to believe that the exteriors have changed so much. The cityscape is trying hard to keep up with the times. At times there is a discernible shift that is almost desperate.

I don't mind the changes, rather I am glad to see the otherwise laidback Kolkatan waking up to the most sophisticated amenities that most metros of the world boast of. However, I sincerely hope that the heart of Kolkata, that may not exactly be enriched by the milk of kindness but which surely surely beats with an uptempo humane beat, remains as spirited as it always has been. Let the Kolkatans show the world how cool it is to be passionate and energetic when it comes to beating the odds!