Kolkata

The city Kolkata behaves as a true friend during the daily happy and sad moments of the crores of people inhabiting here. Innumerable words had been used in literature, poetry, songs, emotions, love, in times of disappointment, etc.to describe Kolkata from time to time. The pen comes to a stop whenever it is tried to write about the city. Lots of words, lots of feelings.

Let’s look at the history. A lot of arguments rose regarding the age of the city. But a European’s name has been engaged from the core-Job Charnock. In the childhood we learnt from our G.K book that Job Charnock built this city combining the three villages of Sutanuti, Gobindapur and Calicut. Formerly Kolkata was named Calcutta. Afterwards we came to know that the actual story was not like this. But I have least interest to argue on that. The breath of the city can be realized while walking down the narrow lanes of the north- Shovabazar or Bagbazar, Hatibagan. The city is full of life. I have no idea of its age- but still it explores its glory in the neon lamps of the terminating eve. The same Englishman lies in the heart of the city neglecting all debates. Job Charnock. Recently seen movie ‘Gorosthaney Sabdhan’ recalls the former and older picture of the city.

Kolkata signifies a complete book of history. Kolkata is the testimony of many of the important chapters in history. The city took the responsibility of the best descendants of the country to grow in her lap. It’s true that the city has changed. May be the celebration Rabnindra Jayanti does not occur in every locality like the past days. But just think carefully- not only the 25th of Baishakh, but citywide ringtones or multiplex-music reminds us of Tagore daily.

The former double-decker buses had left the city. Chittada’s shop at Decker’s Lane does not witness that crowd now. Tenidas of Pataldanga are not found on the rocks. Thousands of lights have enlightened the city. At one side there lies the picture of penurious Kolkata. Exhibition of the wretched city lives for lakhs of rupees are being held at different foreign gallaries. It’s a shame. This shame increases when it is found that tomorrow’s Kolkata is preparing herself with the same chanting lines parallel. I along with my girlfriend or boyfriend and a plate of chowmin. The world reduces more and more. “Shit! There is just nothing in the city. Let’s search for another one.”- Kolkata makes me out hearted.

All of a sudden my city comes back to her own rhythm. She lights candle at Park Street for Rizwanur. That’s my beloved city. Our Kolkata lives for others. The city knows to love. Kolkata, my Kolkata. The beauty queen.