My City My Kolkata

Call me whatever you may like. My lineage is as mixed as it gets. While most of my friends have a simple answer for “Tui Ghati na Bangal”, I have to start tracing my family tree from Adam. From “Mohan Bagan to East Bengal, Hilsa to Chingri” the comparison is everywhere & everlasting. As far as Bengali culinary scenario is concerned, we are at least liberal. While such a background gives one a very broad cultural perspective, it may threaten to leave a person rootless also. Kolkata has warmth about it which a person cannot miss (and I don’t mean the soaring temperature). It accepts people for what they really are, not for what they have. . In most parts of Kolkata it’s the person that matters, not the possessions. You can strike up a conversation with a complete stranger in a bus and discuss anything from the Kolkata Knight Riders to the price of onions. Of course I had my hiccups, one of the biggest being the language as there are some provisional differences as I am not hailing from Kolkata (Again not Calcutta). You simply can’t give a miss to smell of Kumartoli’s mud during Durga Puja, the lady practicing Rabindra Sangeet in dawn, the bank of the Ganges and so many to name. These things mingle to compose a distinct flavor of the City which is so containing as it gets. A recent visit to another city made me realize even more acutely how much ‘home’ meant Kolkata. The soul of the city is its people, its heritage, its culture. These are what enable it to provide the ground for a person like me to spread his roots in. It gives an answer for “Tui Bangal na Ghoti?”…. “Ami Kolkatan”.