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Monday, October 6, 2008

Ten years that shook my world

I spent ten years in Kolkata. When I came, it was known as Calcutta. One day, much to the chagrin of many (and that includes good ol' Fr Pat Eaton, sj) it changed to 'Kolkata'. I came here in summer; it was April, the 'cruelest month'. Thrust into Park Street, this country-oaf from Durgapur was both amazed and confused. There were so many lonely walks on Short Street, Harrington Street, Hungerford Street. Then there was this friend of mine--Swagatam. Both of us soon delved into Kantian noumena, Heiddeger and Kierkergaard. While most of my friends gunned for the IITs and the medical colleges, we spent hours at Nandan. Nothing great was achieved. I still had to negotiate cruel hours in stranded trains, messy Sealdah in the rains, running from one bus to another. There were girls from Loreto, and Birla High on the tube. One of them, was ravishing. I was particularly jealous of a St Joseph's boy who managed a cosy fifteen minutes with her, everyday. Later, he came to my college and soon dropped out. He stayed close by in Barrackpore. I am told that he is into some business in Singapore. He didn't have the girl, but, did he care?
Swagatam died on 13 January, 2004. He was killed by a bus driver who drove over him. Swagatm and I had chatted, cried and been tortured by the world. He was a wonderful boy. Yes, a boy he was. When did they allow him to grow into manhood? To hell with Calcutta and its rowdy, hooligans like cadre-driven society.
Did the city care for me? I doubt it. After college, where I learnt a lesson that I've kept very close to my heart, getting into the finest University was a breeze. Yes, where was I? On lessons learnt. In this city the 'system' is much bigger than the individual. No matter how good you are, it is going to cut you down to the size of a Bantu. The university, the board, teachers, all of them would set the standards of mediocrity and then ask you to beat nincompoops. Mugging answers, rote learning critical surveys, and writing fancy long winded English was more important than being original, imaginative and crisp. Of course I look back to college with affection. I wouldn't have learnt how to read poetry had it not been for Bertram Da Silva, I would not have read with passion and zeal for performance if it hadn't been for Partho Mukherjee. And, who could forget the dedication, steady hard work, and the gentlemanly warmth that Professor Kapadia had.
The amazing interiors of Goethals Library, reading a dusty cloth covered book--tattered at many ends--at the National Library, as the November sun mellowed upon the dust on the teak of the table, was something that Calcutta offered with ample happiness. So was the smell of jasmine flowers I bought for someone at Rashbehari, while she was schooled in Rabindrasangeet. We walked, softly, as summer eased into rains, through Garcha, Dover Lane ,Hazra....
If Hussain’s does Hyderabad proud, we have our Foreign Publishers' on the Grand Hotel arcade. Babuda, would always have the odd book, and he could make you buy it. Ashis Bhattacahrya has been known as Babu to many Calcuttans. He has a credit system for those wrinkled, frowning and bemused intellectuals who avoid or abhor credit cards. He can sell academic hardbacks like no one else can. And, it has always been a delight talking to him. Conversation would be a mix of adulation, criticism, and the banal. I bought my RSC Shakespeare from him and he favoured me with a good discount. Warm regards for Babu-da
The old British Council, on 5 Theatre Road, was also a pleasure. It had cane chairs, a nice cafe, and long umbrellas for rainy days.
I watched films at Metro and Globe and preferred them to Priya. The multiplexes are such an abuse of cinema-going! The Dharamtullah halls were all dirty, didn't make much money, but, the day they turned Lighthouse to a shopping mall I was angry. That was plain uncultured and the Bong-middle-class Chief Minister couldn't care less. However, I do love the rejuvenated Coffee House on Central Avenue. Though, the micro-wave heated pakoras are a bit disappointing.
The day I got my job at Orient Longman, I walked all the way, in rain, from my office at Chandni Chowk to Coffee House on College Street. I met a friend of mine; he was well past sixty and a radical--Professor Pranab Nayak. I would also not forget Kanchankumar Mukherjee and Rabinbabu. We shared a cup of black coffee and listened to stories of a generation murdered and dragged down the drains by Indira Gandhi's stooges. And, the communists-in-power exonerated all that. I wrote for a magazine called Ikshan. Long live the revolution of the Bengali gentleman!! De la grande Mephistophilis. Yak Yak
I left for Delhi ten summers after I'd come. I had fallen in love, gone to the University, taught at colleges, hated the mediocrity and the middle class that is so typical of the city. Once on the train, I realised I hadn't taken my ticket! Did the city not want me to leave? The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

6 comments:

Tanmoy said...

Kolkata for some reason have the power to give and take away at the same time. I have always wondered as a child do we overrate our love for the city or the city really has a soul of its own? After having spent nearly 7 years in Delhi, I have concluded despite all its major ills, Kolkata is much better compared to Delhi at least. I hated Delhi and can't really pick one good reason for doing so, as there are many. In a way the stay in Delhi made me realise Kolkata has its own charm.

Still I would say, we Bengalis are unusually attached to something that we feel is our own. Most times this possessiveness has hindered our progress as a race. We seemed never to outgrow and build something much better. If we would have been so much in love with say Kolkata, then the Calcutta Clean contest that my school participated in 1985 would have made Kolkata clean for good. If we loved Kolkata so much then the fanaticism with cricket would not have tarnished the facilities at Eden Gardens. Therefore, I guess even for a person for me, I should outgrow that love for the city because I have done a zilch. It is another story that despite lot of trying I couldn’t manage to find a job there but still I could have done better.

Nice posts Arani, I hope you continue to write like this. My best wishes for you.

Kaushik Chatterjee said...

Oh Calcutta! The city has become infinitely poorer, dear with people of such refined tastes and cultures and varied attunements, leaving the city, somewhat involuntarily, chanced by an odd circumstance or two, and settling elsewhere!
The typical Calcuttan, savouring the odd culinary delicacies, be they the sipping hot chai after a delicious egg-chop from Das Cabin, or the sizzler Manchurian chicken from the Grande, walking a weary way down the College street, cuing on a Kishore Kumar tune, looking askance at the blonde with the flowing tresses, hurriedly crossing the tram-tracks, taking an odd peak into the musty corners of Biplabda’s Boi Thek, only to cancel a last minute doctor’s appointment to watch a theater at the Academy against a ticket lent by a friend’s friend, has been given a very hard miss!
Adieu Calcutta and welcome to the new Kolkata!

Love, Kaushik Chatterjee

Suvro Chatterjee said...

Delicious, Arani, if only the strain of melancholia were not so deep!

Keep writing: you have a great deal to say, and a lot of people, if they paid attention, would benefit from it.

Santanu Sinha Chaudhuri said...

Wonderful!

Debanjana said...

Arani, this is wonderful...you'll probably not remember me, but I was a year senior to you in college...your post here makes me well and truly nostalgic...at the cost of sounding a little patronising, well done man!

Soham Mukhopadhyay said...

I loved this post. Right now I'm studying in Calcutta and I love this city very much. It was quite delightful for me to read your article and I also love to walk down the college street, especially before 9 in the morning when the book shops haven't opened yet and the surroundings are relatively cleaner. And it really saddened me to read about your friend's demise. I also got know about few old places in Calcutta and would like to visit them as soon as I get a chance.