Of course I cannot expect emotional copies of myself in every human being, but still, loosing contacts with your home city must be like forgetting your parents after an age! I am no less ambitious than many others, due to which I had been traveling to different parts of the country for my MBA, and the trend had continued post that. Being in Pune for the last two years, as a teacher in a management college, my students (Bengali Community) invites me for Poila Boishakh (Bengali New Year’s Day) and Bijoya (Post-Dussera). These students are not necessarily from Bengal, and for them these celebrations are just another occasion to hire a DJ. I am not against anyone having fun, but somewhere I feel that the kids of all communities should know their source of origin. Staying away from the origin is not good enough an excuse to forget the basics.

May I, with the humble permission of my community, reintroduce the city of my birth and love, to those who are less aware?

I know Calcutta, sorry … Kolkata, since May, 1979. The city had changed its name, but for hardcore Calcesians it’s difficult to let go of the essence, royalty and ethnicity the name “Calcutta” creates. This actually has no political connotations for most of us, but Calcutta becoming Kolkata is like addressing Aishwarya as Bulbul!!!

For all who had been a part of the city for some time would admit, it has a strange level of accommodative capacity. Whoever it is, from whatsoever place, with whatever tradition........all find it equally easy to start life there. It’s both cheap and expensive, depends on what you choose for yourself. It fulfills all the basics to maintain the 'metro' status. Most importantly, the people here have a different value running in their blood...and that’s what is worth worshipping. They might fight with you for the simplest of the reasons. But when you need desperate help they will be there for you. Once the crisis is over they may fight with you again, but Bengalis won't leave you alone when you need help.

The city is big. There’s politics everywhere. Work atmosphere is lazy. For a simple thing one has to run three times up and down. Traffic is horrible but transportation is damn cheap. The fights in the buses are a lifelong entertainment to cherish. There are seats reserved in the buses for ladies, and the decorum is followed strictly. Railway platforms are dirty and over-crowded. Summers are a pain.

Every two Bengali (men) out of three smoke, almost every aunty chew beetles. Bengali fast food is something that many non-Bengalis are not aware of. The Mc-lovers and KFCians can take a turn to try the chicken rolls and deep fries and fuchkas available at the roadsides.....my cousins go back to Kolkata and call me back to say how much they have spent for the fuchkas (there you get 3 fuchkas at Rs. 2).

The city is famous for its sweets, fish and cricket fever! Even if you are not fond of fish or sweets, Kolkata might forgive you. But if you are not fond of cricket, you don't deserve to be called a Bengali. Almost every Bengali idealizes Ganguly as their hero, and so do I. It is this maniac that drove the Calcesians crazy at the Edens during World Cup 1996. When India wins over Pakistan, every house have the sweets ready for the visitors of the day. The elderly women, who don't quite know how many goals you have to score to win a cricket match start cooking the best of their abilities to celebrate the victory!!! There’s cricket during the tiring office hours, between traffic jams, it is whispered by the schoolkids to avoid stupid lectures, its there over telephonic conversations that started to discuss something important...be it a local or an std call, and it is there in the form of a postcard of Dravid or Zaheer or Ganguly or Tendulkar in the files of teen-ager girls.

I still remember the burning of posters when Ganguly was out of the team. The city roared! There were continuous turmoils due to which Ganguly had to come out in public and request them to stop with a promise that his performance would get him his earlier position back. Then with time, things started to calm down. We waited for our hero to get back his usual competency back. Some more time, and we, the supporters started saying that he should announce his retirement. At such times, when his own people had almost lost trust in him, Ganguly was back to the fields...pad up and head held high. Thats what makes him our hero. I still remember watching him over TV...most of us had tears in our eyes.

Durga Puja from Kolkata is not a fresh thing to discuss. But every year, the Pujas seem to be renewed and improved. This time I happened to reach Kolkata by flight on the Chaturthi, and as we reached near the city from above, it seemed like a galaxy shining down. Words cannot describe the scene if you have not really experienced it. Lots of pandals, festive hoardings all around, waking up by the sound of drums or chants, “anjali” (prayers while offering flowers to the Godess) in the mornings and “aarti” in the evenings, flood of colours and lights every where, turns the city into heaven. The people automatically forget all backlogs and surrender themselves to the environment. Durga with 10 hands, with her lion, putting an end to the devil, while all her sons and daughters stand with her in unison … the idols are made of clay, stone, bronze etc. The pandals are also lavishly planned as per the budgets of the Puja Committees. Many residents of the city conduct their own Puja at their houses too. The celebration is about Devi Durga coming back to her father’s place (i.e. the earth) from her in-laws (the Heaven). The newspapers detail out the locations of important pujas (the high budget ones that usually win awards), with the hospitals, railway stations, bus services and metro stations around them so that the route can be easily located from any location. Kolkata shares this festival with every one, irrespective of caste, creed, religion, community or state.

Earlier I have mentioned the crowds in buses and trains. I missed out the most important Metro. These are the underground railway services, which connect the north of the city to its south within an hour. The service is a blessing for office-goers and school-college students. The infrastructure is well planned giving the constructions the required space to maintain their uniqueness.

Bengalis are known for their free advises. Anywhere, anytime, it comes naturally. They are also known for treating their guests with lots of luxury. They are famous for good hairs, cooking spree, good musical instincts etc. But all Bengalis carry in their veins the spirits of “adda”. The word hardly has a meaning that can be explained in a word or phrase. May be it means aimless, frank, meaningless conversations which include discussions on politics, dogs, cricket, food, childhood freaks, first crush, Rituporno Ghosh, rains, India, the next door neighbour, and what not. These are definitely accompanied by generous cups of tea, cigarettes (for men) or beetles (by elderly women).

Like any other Bengali from Kolkata, I have similar instincts for the city. The city had not made me notoriously ambitious and fiercely professional....instead it had given me its basic sentiments. I have learnt to create a friendly zone wherever I have been, and if that is denied then I can't continue there for long. Though I have been out of the city, I have kept myself updated with what is happening in my city through the Bengali channels. It is difficult for me to think that one fine day I would have to land up to a place which will be reintroduced to me as my Calcutta, and I will feel alien without the knowledge of when and how my favourite city had changed.

Everyone has some emotions attached to their own city, and so do I. This blog is not an attempt to hurt any individual sentiments. It’s just meant to celebrate my city and to convey my gratitude towards it. I apologize for the article turning more personal than I may have intended.