Kolkota embraces me with its charm and vintage every
time and I fall in love all over again every time I step foot into the old
districts of Kolkota.
For those who love ‘squeaky clean’ streets, glassy skyscrapers
and a tummy full of burgers and fries…old Kolkota would prove harmful if not
fatal. But for those in search of heritage, tradition and simple ‘old charm’….one
stroll down the old cobbled dusty streets of Kolkota will get you as close as
possible to history!
The city is almost like a shriveled old grand mother….yes,
she has wrinkles from her age…yes, she wears a shabby saree and not low waist
jeans and a T…yes, she doesn’t understand the glitzy glamour or gizmos worlds….yes,
she prefers her ‘rasagolla’ to ‘chocolate fudge’….but can you hate for that? The
city stinks of all things unimaginable, the shops and heritage buildings are a
crumbling reality and you have to scuffle around the streets between trams,
cabs, people, cycle rickshaws, human rickshaws and what have you..
I kept all those aside and ventured into the heart of
the city and that’s when magic happened…I strolled down the bazaar areas of
Kolkota and realized that inflation was a myth in that part of the country
where a 100 rupee note can fill your tummy , fetch you a bag of goodies and
loads of happiness that comes with shopping bargains! The arrays of leather
shoes, bags, the ‘oh-so charming’ red and white sarees unleashes the shopping
monster in you and it was indeed a tough job reining in my shopping instincts..
An all together unplanned early morning ride through
the Ganges with a spectacular view of Howrah bridge was another moment of
serenity and perhaps serendipity! A broken and rickety ferry that takes you
from one bank to the other and a melodious Bengali song in the backdrop was a
picture perfect setting for a glorious morning!
And before I headed out of the city, I had one last and
quick stop at the ultimate temple for book lovers…College Street! The sheer
number of book stalls and the surprising herds of book lovers who swarm the
streets will take you by surprise..especially in this so-called era of Kindle
and gadget kings! I purchased my very own copy of ‘Geetanjali’ by the one and
only Tagore…more to remember this fascinating journey and to keep me bound to
the city’s literary heritage! And a ‘coffee
stop’ at the College Street Coffee House was a final must-do…I sipped in a cup
of ‘vintage’ coffee (if you can call it that considering the peeling old walls,
the old waiter who served my coffee, the ‘no-fancy’ menu card and the milieu of
khadar-clad, big bindied and bearded literary junta) and also the city’s historical
cultural and literary wealth before flying out almost like a time machine back
to ‘today’!
