Oh Calcutta – the festivities electrify…

While the joy of Monsoon continues across the country, “the boy” prolongs his nostalgic memories of the city of joy by taking a festive route.

Festivals are perhaps one of biggest celebrations for Indians. Unlike our western counterparts, we are fortunate to have so many festivals on our calendar. That may be a reason why the concept of a perfect vacation is still not prevalent in India as we get enough time to spend with family and friends. While Onam, Ugadi and Pongal are typically celebrated in South India, Ganesh Chaturthi is famous in Western part of India. Bihar and UP have their share of regional festival named as Chhath Pooja while Punjab regales in excitement of Baisakhi.

Amidst all these regional festivals, there are a few national festivals also which are more or less uniformly celebrated in India. One of them is Dussehra which is more prominent in West Bengal than many other states. There are many mythological backgrounds asto why it is celebrated, but people in West Bengal regard it as nine days of home-coming for "Maa Durga" ("Maa"). People earnestly wait months for these nine days of continuous devotion and joy. The city of Calcutta in particular is flooded with large wooden structures known as Pandaals which are decorated based on various traditional as well as innovative themes. Artists spend days to build such massive structures and statues of Maa. During first five days of this period, the statue of Maa is set up inside the Pandals and adorned with clothes, jewels, garlands and flowers.

As the Pujo (worship) commences from sixth day, the whole city comes to a standstill with four days of declared official holidays. Every night thousands of people step out to do a pandal-hopping and all by foot. If one wants to cite the longest queues of devotees, this is perhaps the time. The city glitters with unprecedented lights on the roads and streets. The atmosphere basks in the uninterrupted spells of holy chants. Innumerable roadside food-stalls appease the hunger and thirst of hoppers. Thousands of specially appointed cops take care of law and order situation. Metro trains run the whole night, yes whole night. It is one crazy experience even for a local resident by any standard. In the middle of all this craziness, the worship and the devotion, the grace and the belief, the perseverance and the respect is what lingers with the mind and heart over the days to come. Indeed, the love for goddess is unparallel and the belief indissoluble. A grand salute to the Spirit of Durga Puja!

As always, Maa has to go back to her abode after the brief period of home-coming. Tenth day (popularly known as Vijayadashmi or Shubho Bijoya) is the time to bid a heartfelt farewell to the Maa. Sindur Khela (A play where women greet each other with vermilion) and Bisarjon (Immersion) are the key highlights of the day. Many poignant faces on the banks of the Ganges say it all. The cry of “Maa Jaache” (Mom is going away) stimulates the heart as the eyes turn moist and watery in the parting pain. With a heavy heart and trembling body, each one of them says “goodbye” only to see the Maa again next year.

Oh Calcutta – the festivities electrify…

बारिश और हम तुम...

ऐसा क्यों होता है जब तुम याद आते हो,
ऐसा क्यों होता है जब भी हम मिलते है,
जाने क्यों ये अनमने से बादल घिर जाते है,
जाने क्यों फिर ताज़गी हवाओं में घुल जाती है,

बारिश की ये बूंदे तन को छू कर य़ू गिरती है,
दिल में कैद तेरी यादों को मानों जगा जाती है,
कभी सोचा के बंद कर लू मुठी में इन बूंदों को,
हर कोशिश पे क्यों बेशुमार बूंदे फिसल जाती है,

ऐसा क्यों होता है जब जब बारिश होती है,
क्यों होती है ये बारिश जब जब हम मिलते है,

बारिश में गुज़रा हर एक लमहा कुछ ख़ास होता है,
वो कहते है प्यार करने वालो का ये अंदाज़ होता है,
हम कहते है ऐसे में ही प्यार का आग़ाज़ होता है,
जाने क्यों इस मौसम में हम तुम का परवाज़ होता है,

जाने क्यों, जाने क्यों, ऐसा क्यों होता है हर बार,
क्यों होती है ये बारिश जब जब हम मिलते है...

Oh Calcutta – the game never gets better anywhere else…

Babu Moshay is what easily connects one to Calcutta and Bengalis. One more thing that easily connects one to Calcutta is their love for sports. Cricket lives in each and every pada (locality) of this city. People are crazy about this game here. The sight of a man in his 50s walking with transistors to get the score update brings back those golden memories of 1980s. Dada is still loved by the people equally if not more than Sachin. Believe me, there are thousands of people who miss those lofted shots of Dada against the left arm orthodox. They back Knight Riders team every season they take the ground in golden jerseys. To the fans’ delight, most wonderful stadium in India finds it home at Calcutta – “The Eden Gardens” – situated on the banks of Hooghly between two sister bridges. Watching a day & night cricket match live at Edens is out of the world experience. Simply outstanding! Wo shamaa kuch aur hota hai, jab Eden me dudhiya match hota hai!

While cricket is the most passionate sport amongst people over here, football is no less. Perhaps, the only metro city in India where people play professional football to this extent. That the Calcutta Football League (CFL) is the oldest league in Asia would come as a surprise to many. That the city has hundreds of football clubs would appeal to the fans who want India to do well at the international level. Mohan Bagan and East Bengal are the famous clubs and Salk Lake Stadium at EM Bypass is a famous venue for football matches. If you happen to stay at Calcutta for a reasonable period of time, you ought to develop the soft corner for Brazil and Argentina, not to mention why.

Their love for sports is evident from the fact that they have pada-level clubs across the city. They watch matches together at the clubs. They analyze each and every match like an expert – be it football, cricket or tennis. They play Carrom Board at colleges, clubs and homes. They play tennis and badminton too. Their joy has not limitations when Leander Paes keeps on winning those doubles title. They get greatly disheartened when team India loses a match. They get equally upset when Brazil gets defeated. They maintain the legacy of sports month on month, year on year, decade on decade. They embrace the heroes, they crucify the heroes, but the game wins at the end. It never gets better anywhere else!

63 Years of Rejoice “Will Last Forever”…

64th Independence Day (“The Day”) just concluded with crowning of a Hyderabadi Guy as “Indian Idol” by the hands of a UP born superstar in a show where two out of three judges were Muslims (third one being Gujarati) and the guest of honor was a leading bollywood actress (Punjabi). This perfectly reflects the thoughts of Mr. Ramachandra Guha on “why India survives” which is so beautiful and heartening to witness live in action. Yes, India does survive and has actually survived 63 years of an unprecedented journey which – as most Britishers thought – would last only a decade. The Idea of India has taken in its stride all the challenges right from “The Day” itself when “Father of the Nation” was on a fast in the city of joy to appease one year old riot.

Though, the excitement of surroundings this morning seemed very familiar, the mind went back in time once again as always. I re-opened the relevant pages of one of my favorite books which made me cry, which brought lumps in my throat and which left me totally shattered. I tried to visualize the chaos and bedlam of 1946-1949 but never got anywhere near to even 1% of actual scenes in my imagination. The scale of operations and the nature of complexities still leave me speechless. I tried to find answers to "why" part of the question and read this on the very first page of the book:

I have no doubt that if British governments had been prepared to grant in 1900 what they refused in 1900 but granted in 1920; or to grant in 1920 what they refused to grant in 1920 but granted in 1940; or to grant in 1940 what they refused to grant in 1940 but granted in 1947 – then nine-tenths of the misery, hatred, and violence, the imprisonings and terrorism, the murders, flogging, shootings, assassinations, even the racial massacres would have been avoided; the transference of power might well have been accomplished peacefully, even possibly without Partition. – Leonard Woolf, 1967

Probably, the time has gone by now to look for the answers to what went wrong, what could be have been done differently or whether impact of the loss could have been lesser. However, there still exists a pain in the heart – pain of partition, pain of loss of million lives and pain of re-building India block by block. The world would not have been better when Shoaib Akhtar, Sachin Tendulkar and Mohammad Ashraful could play international cricket for the same country. I get the utmost sense of secularism when I imagine my brothers from Lahore paying visit to Ajmer Sharif without any hindrance. The fusion of Indo-Pak music would have been a delight for the fans across the entire universe. Alas! That was not meant to be. Alas!

True, that was not meant to be. But can both sides take a step back and ponder on the learning of these 63 years? May be. Will this lead to a sensible solution on the current animosity? May be. Can the peace be restored in the valley? May be. I sincerely hope that this is possible and this will open a new chapter in the history whenever it happens – to reinforce survival mechanism of both the countries and above all humanity. Amen!

Oh Calcutta – the sweetness stays forever…

“This is worth coming across to see!”

As you drive down slowly towards Park Street through Brabourne Road, you can sense the scale of business that is generated by those narrow streets of Burra Bazar. Name of the streets which are mostly in English catches the attention immediately at least to an outsider. Somehow, names like Canning Street, Ezra Street, Middleton Row, Orient Row infatuated the little boy also. Two of the most noticeable buildings in Dalhousie area are the dome-shaped GPO (General Post Office) and the historical Writers. It was hard for the boy to realize for long that the dome-shaped giant structure is a GPO and not a museum or an assembly. Charm of first big city perhaps!

As you enter Red Road, those broad roads await to take you towards glamorous South Calcutta. It took more than six months for that boy to figure out why it is called South Calcutta. Fhadka (style) of a metro city perhaps! While Brabourne Road houses several business offices in the heart of the city, Park Street houses corporate offices and branch offices of many big companies. The sight of Chatterjee International and Tata Steel building distantly from Maidan is what many people who lived in Calcutta can relate to quite easily. Maidan is indeed famous for what its name says. From trade fair to book fair to notorious rallies, it is a host to every big event in the city. What could be said about those Morning Walks at Maidan! Walking your way to the monumental Victoria Memorial from Maidan is the best way to start your morning at Calcutta. All of a sudden, a different air is what you breathe in that refreshes your inner self to the core.

If you are fond of having jalebis in the breakfast, you can follow that morning walk with a visit to Russell Street. The boy is too old to recollect name of that dhaba but the street is small enough to locate it. Bengal and Sweets are almost impossible to separate. While macher jhol and lucchi are the most preferred food, vegetarians can relish and submerge in the ras of sweet dishes on offer. Rossogullah, sondesh, abar khabo, mishitdoi, chom chom – just to name a few. Coupled with sweet nature of people, these sweets will leave you yearning for more and more. If you want some crispy and spicy taste, you must not miss roadside jhal muri which is available everywhere in the city. After all, muri chai is the favorite evening snack of babu moshay!

The boy was fond of a lovely song which is synonymous with Babu moshay! Oh Calcutta, the sweetness stays forever…

Oh Calcutta – the joy revitalizes…

Calcutta – the very name of the city fills the heart with immeasurable joy. The moment you come out of the huge Howrah railway station, a mere glimpse of renowned Rabindra Setu (Popularly known as “Howrah Bridge”) is enough to stimulate the belly. There could have been no better gateway to the city than this 67 years old bridge. The bridge is probably the world biggest in terms of traffic and symbolizes the city itself. It is just mind boggling to know that over a million pedestrians and over hundred thousand vehicles cross the bridge every day. One needs to see the ocean of people to believe it.

If you opt to walk across this distance of 1500 feet in the evening, you are treating yourself with one of best experiences ever possible. Cool breeze flowing over the serene and sacred Hooghly River (One of the arms of the Ganges) offers unique refreshment. The respect for the river can easily be noticed when local people upon entering the bridge make a gesture as if praying in the temple. Equally thrilling is a ferry or boat ride beneath the bridge that takes you to the sister bridge (Vidyasagar Setu) also. The enigma of this ride can perhaps be best felt by this song.

Once inside the city, you are bound to experience warmth and respect by the people. Don’t be surprised if someone calls you as “Dada/Didi/Kaaku/Bhaiya”. It is simply a howler not to know these terms. It is a common saying that if you call someone’s name added by these words, half you work is already done. Such is the culture that the city carries. Here, the people still respect each other and greet everyone with loving and caring attitude. Though, it will be wrong to say that there are no local invectives in vogue, their usage is not as prevalent as in other northern Indian cities. Fortunately, the city is still aloof from any bad influence and rightly so.

It is so heartening to hear the bus conductors shout “aashte ladies, bachcha” whenever females or kid are about to get down from the bus. It is simply superb to borrow their dialect while speaking our own Mother Tongue. It is so wonderful to note the way they explain any address so meticulously. The humility can be widely observed in temples where people hold their ears (begging for forgiveness from God for any wrongdoing) before leaving the temple. Who said the human values are diminishing with more and more urbanization! Visit Calcutta and you would feel it. As Rudyard Kipling says –

Calcutta holds out false hopes of some return. The dense smoke hangs low, in the chill of the morning, over an ocean of roofs, and, as the city wakes, there goes up to the smoke a deep, full-throated boom of life and motion and humanity. For this reason does he who sees Calcutta for the first time hang joyously out of the ticca gharri and sniff the smoke, and turn his face toward the tumult, saying: ‘This is, at last, some portion of my heritage returned to me. This is a city. There is life here, and there should be all manner of pleasant things for the having, across the river and under the smoke.’

The litany is an expressive one and exactly describes the first emotions of a wandering savage adrift in Calcutta. The eye has lost its sense of proportion, the focus has contracted through overmuch residence in up-country stations—twenty minutes’ canter from hospital to parade-ground, you know—and the mind has shrunk with the eye. Both say together, as they take in the sweep of shipping above and below the Hughli Bridge: ‘Why, this is London! This is the docks. This is Imperial. This is worth coming across India to see!’

Watch out this space for more on the city of joy…