My dearest Kolkata….

Was missing You a lot today, so thought of writing something about the ‘City of Joy’. Have hardly lived in the city for one and half years of my life, yet there is something, which makes me nostalgic about the city time and again.

The Kolkata rains, the noisy roads, the condemning bongs and the traffic jams. What a city! Art, culture, literature, history, as if a complete manuscript in itself. A city, which never siestas. A city, which awakens at the dawn and appreciates every moment of the day from the newspaper vendors throwing newspapers in the houses with amazing gradient, through the rowdy ‘Dalhousie’ streets full of yummy street food, till the ‘live’ rock band at ‘Someplace Else’. A city, which breathes, lives and teaches how to live.

I have seen Kolkata at night. The empty roads, the footpaths full of people who are peacefully asleep, the deserted richshaws, the neon street lights, the tram lines, the empty buses, and the lights of the Howrah Bridge and the Ganges..a sight which often makes me selfishly nostalgic. Euphoria.

If Kolkata is ‘Kalighaat’, it’s also ‘Tantra’. If Kolkata is ‘Victoria Memorial’, it’s also ‘Nandan’. If Kolkata is ‘Mohan Bagan’, it’s also ‘Sourav Ganguly’! If Kolkata is old, it’s also contemporary. Such an assortment can only be conveyed by this city. Am far away, yet in every city, I try to unearth Kolkata. As if it’s My City, where I belong. This selfish nostalgia might someday bring me closer to ‘You’, but for now, this long distance bond is the only tactic. Miss You Kolkata.



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