What I mean by that is the sure adrenaline rush while sitting in the yellow top bulky taxis, the flooding on the streets (either rain water or human urine – animals are a distant second) and of course the specialties that belong to Kolkata. I’m not talking of the sumptuous array of food – be it the varieties of restaurants or street food (the jhaal muri and puchkaas are still to die for) but the daily happenings in the city of Joy.
It all started with my flight back home. I got familiarized with the person next to me shouting to his “dadu” who was sitting more than ten rows away to fill “neel” (nil) in the form that asked for any customs duty. Then of course as the flight touched down and the lights for seatbelts to remain fastened were flashing, it seemed to be a sign for most to stand up and take off their bags. Despite repeated announcements from the stewardess, it only helped when the steward stormed in and banged the hatches shut and forced each one to sit until the plane came to a halt.
This first experience of what I was about to get in Bengal was all that I was ready for. Walk on the roads (if you can – with most of the pavements being dug up or filled with rubbish and food waste) and hear the wide array of sounds. From the constant blare of the car-horns, the screeching of brakes, the burps and belches of the well-fed men, the pitch-pitch noises from passers-by. Each oral sound made for different reasons, either a sigh of exasperation or a hoot for a lady or a crackling of spittle that is coughed up on the road.
But then again Kolkata has something distinctive in its style and in its way of life and that exclusive charm brings us back to it no matter where we are. Kolkata is the same old Calcutta from times of yore, giving us the same, just more and more – deetay hobe!!
It all started with my flight back home. I got familiarized with the person next to me shouting to his “dadu” who was sitting more than ten rows away to fill “neel” (nil) in the form that asked for any customs duty. Then of course as the flight touched down and the lights for seatbelts to remain fastened were flashing, it seemed to be a sign for most to stand up and take off their bags. Despite repeated announcements from the stewardess, it only helped when the steward stormed in and banged the hatches shut and forced each one to sit until the plane came to a halt.
This first experience of what I was about to get in Bengal was all that I was ready for. Walk on the roads (if you can – with most of the pavements being dug up or filled with rubbish and food waste) and hear the wide array of sounds. From the constant blare of the car-horns, the screeching of brakes, the burps and belches of the well-fed men, the pitch-pitch noises from passers-by. Each oral sound made for different reasons, either a sigh of exasperation or a hoot for a lady or a crackling of spittle that is coughed up on the road.
But then again Kolkata has something distinctive in its style and in its way of life and that exclusive charm brings us back to it no matter where we are. Kolkata is the same old Calcutta from times of yore, giving us the same, just more and more – deetay hobe!!
3 comments:
Reading through the descriptions u managed to put together I can actually go through the memory lane…
While reading your blog of Calcutta, it reminds me that even though it is dirty and polluted n the weather is bad Kolkatta is still my Calcutta......something I will never grow out of.
Thanks keep us posted;)
khoob bhalo!!!
:)
Calcutta will always be a part and parcel of all our lives
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