Kolkata Kaleidoscope - Chapter n.1

The first, the second, the third and other (n-1) times I set foot on her land were all commemorative in itself, because they all depicted a particular phase of life and state of being I was in at that moment, but today I will skip all and take you through the time I took that ride through the skies to see her for the nth time. It was not just a visit but also an introduction of her to my girlfriend. It was Durga Puja season and the year was 2019, I was excited because I have never been a guide to anyone before, not because of paucity of chances but merely because of my poor sense of direction. Given the fact that I had lived in the 'City of Joy' for 4 years sometime ago, I was quarter certain that I could make it with a few glitches, glitches because they could only be because of Google Maps. Get it? Of course I still needed the help of Google Maps, folks! *chuckles*

The sky transformed from inky black to as cobalt as the colour in an artist's palette in a matter of minutes as I took off on the jaunt that early morning. I was taken up gently but brought down not so gently because of the thunder and rain in Kolkata's atmosphere. Elated and mostly animated, I scurried through the airport to meet my girlfriend who had already been waiting. We met and I jumped and we knew that this was going to be special, we are talking about Durga Puja in Kolkata after-all.

Now have you ever taken the Airport-bus ride there? If yes, you will know exactly what I mean by how annoying it is with the big stickers of advertisements concealing the city from you on all sides. Such an obstruction in sight was unwelcome and disappointing for both of us even though the ride in itself comfortable, because it was pouring by the time we embarked on that ride into the heartland. Well we would be staying south of the heartland but you get the picture.

Midway we had to switch buses because we decided to take a quick detour to pay a quick visit to my uncle and aunt. A short rickshaw ride was indispensable to this digression, thus this earmarked her (gf's) first time in a rickshaw. Drenched in the pouring rain, as the "protective" tarpaulin mast had holes in every possible square inch, we sneezed and coughed through the alleys knee-deep in gutter water, and finally landed on the calligraphic "WELCOME" mat of my aunt. We looked around and shamelessly shook off the extra water weight we had gained over the past few minutes, on that beautiful piece of art, much like a dog and chuckled as we pressed the calling bell. The bell sang out "Om bhur bhuva swaha...." - the Gayatri Mantra! of all the rings in the world, almost reminding us again of the little "act" we had just committed, it might not have been a harmless shenanigan afterall. But we didn't care, it made us laugh even louder, to which the door opened even quicker. It was a happy reunion after ages. My uncle who was an ardent trekker had many stories to share and we had even more questions to ask. She was meeting my extended family for the first time without them knowing, and it was all so easy because we were too engrossed in sharing experiences and knowing about each other, for me it was also picking up where we had left off after I moved away. After an hour or so of a very delightful chinwag, the most delicious 'Pabda' was served and for her the most delicious lady's finger, *snorts and snickers* I only kid, she is vegetarian so she also eats other things I guess - for example - something from the grass family. *even louder giggle this time.* Gotcha! In all seriousness, she had other items on the plate which I cannot recall, you have to ask her because I lost all interest in anything else after the 'Pabda' was served on the ceramic plate, right beside the 'Muri Ghonto' and 'Chatney.' So yes we had a hearty brunch, hung out some more, and explored minute details in the photographs of glaciers being projected on the desktop screen by my uncle. We talked and only after a promise of a second visit were we allowed to leave. We obliged quite happily and were on our way through the rain, which was more a drizzle now.

Hopping into our second bus, which was sharp in contrast to the one before and as open as can be, the view unobstructed by anything non-living, only living heads on the way, the wind and water entering through more crevices than was legally allowed, finally if that wasn't enough Kolkata view and experience we were craving for, the jerks shook us into the present and now the only present that mattered was, "You are in Kolkata, folks! So get with it and don't complain, only live the moment." Bounced and juggled n times, we were finally dropped off at the destination. A short walk and we reached the tiny flat which was going to be our home for the next 6 days. We unlocked the door and rested our backs for a few minutes and looked at each other and then around. The trapped dust in the locked rooms was dying to escape, the spider webs waiting to set flight where the wind blew, and we didn't want to keep them waiting. With broom in one hand and mop in the other, and half a vision in our heart, we swept and cleaned half-heartedly and quickly exhausted our will to proceed any further than we already had. We rested them and ourselves, but not after a thorough freshening up and cleaning off the roadside sludge that made the short journey with us into our home with our feet and clothes. Within a few seconds of laying down, we drifted off into our individual dreams of Kolkata, or not, we don't remember any longer.

Evening brought about a craving for the special and dearly missed Kolkata 'Phuchka.' It was time for our first evening stroll in the new city, so we set out and the first pit stop was definitely going to be an old acquaintance, the 'kaku' who still served 'Phuchka' into handmade mini paper cones. The spicy little balls of tamarind water were as delightful to eat as it was to watch someone taste them for the first time. The amusement in beholding the mouth of a loved one stretched as wide as possible and waiting for that eye squint as the first drop of spicy sour water makes the first contact with the tongue, is unparalleled. After 10 iterations of the pure bliss, I guided her through the busy local market set-up on the footpaths, often shielding her from the oncoming foot-traffic.

Confused about which side to walk on, she struggled to keep pace with me but we finally managed to reach the crossroads which marked the imaginary outline of the small local market. We filled the gaps of our fingers with bags of fruits, groundnuts, yellow popcorn, chips, cold-drinks sold underneath the fluorescent lights - they comprised our stockpile, all accumulated along the way. The road back home was the same but not without another 10 iterations of the beloved 'Phuchka.' While we waited in line for the batch of customers already being served to finish, I decided to take a detour, a roundabout way to reach our temporary home. After the extra gulps of tamarind water this time, and the last 'phau' Phuchka we trudged along, weary from all the extra tartaric acid in our stomachs.

I hadn't yet introduced her to the fervour surrounding Durga Puja, other than the more-than-usual foot-traffic in the local market ready to trample you, which I am pretty sure is now embedded into her memory. It was finally time for the initiation; the detour would take us through a small make-shift pottery colony where Durga Ma was still coming into life. It was 4 days before Panchami and the perfect time to see the local potters and artisans in action, they would literally be burning the midnight oil to complete every 'murti' on time. The first step into their workshop and I could see the stupefaction in her eyes, it was the sheer scale of the wondrous artwork in front of both our eyes. The perfectly carved 'murtis' looked alive. Ma Durga, everytime differently artistically sculpted, and each of Her form almost ready to annihilate the differently moulded Asura, was a sight to capture both in our minds and with our mobile cameras. As usual, I photographed more than her. She always concentrates more on seeing things in the moment than saving for later, which I always admire. We didn't want to interrupt the artistic process so without taking too many bends though the rows of monumental artwork, suppressing our enthusiasm for later, we made an exit. On the way back through the dark alleys interspersed non-uniformly with street lights, we were accompanied by our bags of food now further stretched between our fingers, and a long list of discussion material about the recently witnessed mega-sculptures. The rest of the night was filled with comparative stories of mythology from the East and the South (she hails from the South,) junk food we had recently purchased, some Netflix and some good old sleep.

With such a start we believed it was going to be a good tomorrow, but was it? To know more read the Chapter n.2. I am only kidding, this is not an Ekta Kapoor serial and the next day was infact good, and without drama, well maybe a little. Aha! Trapped you again. Double kidding! You don't have to carry on to the next if you haven't enjoyed reading this.

This concludes our Chapter n, Day 1. See you again for Chapter n, Day 2.