Kolkata – Amar Sohor (My City)
June 2nd, 2012, finally waved the final good bye from the clear skies in an indigo flight to the city of joy, my love Kolkata. I always wondered what exactly made Mr. Dominique Lapierre term Kolkata as the city of joy. Is it the aroma in the air after the first monsoon rains or the little gangs of children playing football in the mud poached Maidan grounds, or is it the ever loud warm welcome of Devi Durga. But now staying away from home, I tried to justify my reasons .
Was it the fragrance in the air after the first monsoon rains, but also the alarm it brought about to the people about the football fantasy to begin. The mud puddles, the dribbles, the tackles, the slides, and the enormous splendour of scoring the first monsoon goal. Yes it made the city different indeed.
Then again Devi Durga’s decadence to mother earth with her armour and glory does bring about that mood of festiveness in the city but how can we not mention the spirit of the Bengalis, what we as Bengalis popularly term as MADLY BENGALI, so much to take over in those five days of festive spirit. For a few, those five days serve to be the year’s stabilizer, for a few those five days serve to be the heart quencher and for a few those five days means reunion. Funny how to some, these five days serve as a medium to work for the rest 360 days in a year.
Honestly Kolkata has always kept surprising me, yes in a bad way as well as in a very positive way. But the darker side has always been over shadowed the brighter sphere.
Just when we thought the city has lost respect for its heroes, a certain day a fully packed eden gardens turns out to support for its home hero Saurav Ganguly dawning the colours of Pune Warriors. It did amaze me to the extent how one man actually divided the city of joy into two spheres, taking the notion of forgetting their heroes right out of my mind.
Again when I thought Kolkata being a very safe city for the women, a rape in the heart of the city tore the belief apart, but then the faith of concealment happened when a police officer gave away his life fighting for the honour of a women.
Reasons just don’t seem to end for the unconditional love for my city, but yes the real reasons were beyond the ones that I stated above. The real reasons were something else. The city DID GIVE ME MY FIRSTs. My first realization of the importance and warmth of the word FRIEND. The first time feeling of being in love, those subtle sleepless nights those long conversations and then again that first heart break, that sense of sorrow. Yes the city gave me my first realization of FAILURE. So many learning’s, so many plethoras of emotions.
I realized the fragrance of monsoon rains would have accounted for nothing if I didn’t have my friends to play football with, the aroma if the air would have ended up just being another addition to my sensory organ and not a feeling if not for the special person(s). The festive spirit would just have been another festival if not for my family to make it royal and grand. So much to account for, so much to write, and just when I seem to find words I realize I need to end.
Yes, the city of joy gave me my firsts, and those few moments will be everlasting irrespective of where I stay. Mr. Lapierre thank you for acclaiming those wonderful lines to my city. I end this by adding a few lines.
there and you are not
like the dizzy sorrows that are mine
lining my shirt, frosting my drink
as I walk across downtown Calcutta
my beloved misery
where your smiles light up the stairs
and my cigarettes endless
like your days and ways
that are my sorrows, my ins and outs
because you are there and you are not
Saurav Mitra
MBA – ITBM
Batch – 2012 -2014
