Kolkata Knot Kalling

To start off, I do agree with you that the subject-line is pretty clichéd, but I wanted to try my hand at some stupid alliteration. So the refined version will be – Kolkata Not Calling.

I have never been a fan of Dominique Lapierre; simply because he couldn’t keep my interest going for his “It Was Five Past Midnight In Bhopal”. I had read around 50 odd pages before I gave it up 2 years back, and it’s still lying deserted under some stack of my books. Of what I remember, it was full of misery of the poor, and so disconnected with each chapter that it finally became a bore.

The point here is not why I didn’t like reading Lapierre then, the point is the same elucidation of misery and disconnection which is holding on to my fascination for “City of Joy”. I was quite apprehensive when I picked up the book to read because Kolkata has been a big debate in life. It is even wondrous because I have never stayed in the city per say – it has always been a brief visit to my numerous relatives or a trip as a tourist to relish the old architecture of the evergreen city.

Kolkata – now to explain why I have always been confused about the place. Some things about the city have been either repelling or fascinating for me. The roads, the countless yellow and black cabs, the feeling of moving on to modern architecture within half a kilometer of a slum, the metro, the sweating heat, the eve-teasing, the dozing passengers in trains and buses, Eden Gardens, Victoria Memorial, the human carts (rickshaws), the expanse of cosmopolitan culture and their acceptability with each other, phew, I can go on and on!

I still feel that the inhabitants of this old capital have a different genre of blood running in their veins. Especially the been-there-for-many-generations crowd here loves the city so much that their mother’s name might as well have been “Kolkata”! They hate the idea of leaving their ancestral home and try their fortune in some new city. Anjan Dutta has created this love very beautifully in his all-time favourite album “Priyo Bondhu”.

As for me, I have always been a bit skeptical of this love and glad that my parents didn’t decide to bring me up here. Mainly because I feel that Kolkata people lack the spirit of adventure. They are so damn happy with the laidback life and too much of family bonding that they are scared to live alone outside their small world. Hold on, I am not generalizing. I have actually seen it happen with one of my own uncles and the situation might well be evolving with our generation. With the comparatively lower cost of living here, youngsters are venturing to the more posh cities in search for higher salary.

Earlier, I guess there was a tinge of jealousy because I could never understand how a whole clan can be so bloody proud of the place they live in. But over the years, moving from Bangalore to Pune and back again, I realized that it is natural to have that feeling of belonging, to reach out to roots – and which I very well lack. I am usually content with either visiting my parents once in a while or them coming to Bangalore to see how their daughter is faring in her career. My Mom has asked me several times to find a job there so that I can be near home, but I have never been able to even dream close enough of living in the city. I am glad to think of the city as a fantasy, instead of being a part of the awe I have for the metro.

Well, this is not about me now. There are still 200 odd pages left to read in “City of Joy” but whatever I have gleaned till now has left quite an impact. The rich have their own comfortable shack but when it comes to the under-privileged, the hope which sees them through the excessive heat, the floods during monsoon, the illnesses, and their acceptability for the other. It is like a constant fight for mere existence, a race, a love, and a hatred which I just don’t understand. If you have forgotten, I did say I am in awe of the city!

As a second thought, I guess I couldn’t read “It Was Five Past Midnight In Bhopal” because I couldn’t relate to the tragedy that hit the city due to the emission of poisonous gas. I might dig out the book and give it a try after I am done with “City of Joy”.

I won’t say that all my feelings for Kolkata are encompassed in these few words but the city sure will remain one of the biggest debates in my life. It has not called me yet but who knows, down the lane responsibilities might call me to settle down here, and trust me, the simple thought of it is a mixture of feelings, 90% of which is dread!