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…
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…
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2 comments:
An evocative portrayal of the city with a heart. Calcutta (I still love the old name) has been rightfully pilloried for all that's wrong. But there's a lot that's right as you have so nicely brought out. I've felt it too - the heart beats strongly in the city. The Howrah Bridge is everything as you describe. Go a little further in - Brabourne Road with the historical buildings, Lyons Range, and further down - Park Street ; the glamorous India of the yester years. Bhalo dada - keep this series going and going ...
@ Ramesh - Onek Dhannobaad dada, tomaar comment taa khoob bhalo! Will definitely continue for a while to bring out my experience with the city.
Oh yes, I love the old name too. A city with great heart. The glamorous India of yester years - just after the bridge, you find Brabourne Road, MG Road and Strand Road diverging to three different directions with historical buildings on both sides. Brabourne Road leading to Dalhousie to Esplanade to Park Street...
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