' =2=

''''''''''''''' 'Kolkata! amar bhalobasha'

'

The title 'is from a show titled 'Oh! Calcutta!' which created history in the seventies, in London it ran for more than 2400 shows and in New York more than 1400 shows during its first run, it was an avant-garde attempt consisting sketches on sex related themes and the first show was in 1969, when many of us were not even born. The first such sketch was 'Taking off the robe' and the title suggested in French 'what an ass you have.' The controversy was for total nudity and not for any spectacle. Why I alluded to the show is for my conviction that avant-garde thought always created ripples and none knows it better than a man does from Calcutta, if Mumbai is our show capital, Calcutta is our heartthrob when we think of ideas remote and novel. The people here are accused of laziness, a kind of abhorrence for strict discipline, they smoke away their precious time, idle away in gossiping. The women put on weight, looked more like dwarf Konark danseuse with a little grace and more pomp. The pointer also applies equally to other places for other similar reasons. Then why single out Calcutta. We can never deny that Calcutta is vibrant even when it retards.

'''''''''''''''' For last some years I rarely visit a complex showing movies, so I am not very much aware of the Bengali movies and their impact. On Monday, I saw a large number of posters of a movie title 'Ai Pruthibi, tomar,amar'. The girl on the poster was a real beauty, the girl next door; the boy wore slippers of the sixties, and folded his trousers as boys did in the eighties. The poster and hoardings were real treat to the eyes, the girl was beautiful for her earthliness, what she exuded was an original ordinariness. Despite my desire, I could not visit it. Yet it left an impact though I am unaware of the story line or artistry of the film.

''''''' What I suggest here the place and people you love never escape your attention. Calcutta may be a place of few snobs, yet it has people like Rathin Mitra, who brought life in his sketches or even an M.J. Akbar who changed the face of Indian media working from here.

''''''''''

'' I was on an official visit as a prosecution witness, I went there to depose in a special first track court, and the court is in the old redbrick building built in the first decade of 20^thcentury. '

'''''''''' The copper plaque placed in the entrance chronicled the history of the building. A large number of offices and the special court functioned in the building to punish the corrupt public servant. Alipore jail is near the survey building.' Sri Aurobindo and Netaji ''were incarcerated in this prison. The seer poet, the revolutionary and teacher and his vision of a mother- land and transcendence of human soul was unique for an individual, the traumas of human limitations were defied .He speaks in the voice of an eternal soul;

''To seek for a spirit sole and desolate,

'' Too fallen to recollect forgotten bliss.

'..

Like a vague smile tempting a desert heart,

Troubled the far rim of life's obscure sleep.'

''''''''''''''' This is true of Calcutta, it will never sleep, and you can never obscure its vibrant spirit.

''''''''''''''' A place tagged as dying can never witness upheaval in the minds of its people, yet what we see when Rijwan had a premature death, the city in one voice cried for justice. Women here are safer than most other places. Kipling called the city of dreadful nights, yet one finds the city alive even at the wee hours.

''''''''''''' The mills have closed, many industrial houses have mass exodus, the people and their leaders do not change. It is true the city has not been that vibrant as it was for ages past. The people here are to share the blame and the decadence could stall the moment we feel it is a symbol of India. Calcutta belongs to all of us.' '

''''''''''''''''''''

' I have a feeling, like a phoenix the city will rise to lead and all of us have to share the responsibility, the shackles of inertia is to be shed.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' My dear Calcutta, Long Live.

''''' '

( i had to'make some changes in'the article.,' some thought it was outrageous, but 'i maintain i did no wrong..i am firm in my conviction as long as you don’t have any intention to hurt others, or infringe others rights you are right)

'

''' =1=

''' '''''''''''''''''''''Ogo' Kolkata'

'

'

''' '''I have heard a lot many sad things about Kolkata, (I shall use Calcutta, as I am more familiar with the spelling.), yet none had ever questioned the sobriquet, that it has passions, you may love it or hate it, but can never ignore. For one from Orissa, Calcutta is next home.

'As a teenage boy, I visited Calcutta to join a rally. I went to the central office of a left outfit and found elderly men smoking bidi, sipping red tea innumerable times. They spoke of class struggle, lauded their leader and organization. Then young boys and girls collecting subscription pushed you to buy their rickety pamphlet, even today you can find such boys and girls doing the same thing. The passion and belief in them is undeniable. For me this is Calcutta, its people, not necessarily Bengalis are passionate, addicted to life and fancy, a collective pampering of their beliefs and tradition is their forte.

'''''''''' Last few days I was in Calcutta, and wanted to have a joyride in the city's new look trams, boarded the crowded bus, argued with the taxi-driver, saw beautiful women shopping in the new market, ( when I was not even eighteen, I thought none can love better than a Calcutta girl, now I persist with that , albeit with a supplement none can even hate more than the Calcutta girl.) young girls savvy and rotund. Real young boys were conspicuous in their absence.

'''''''''''''''' Monday and Tuesday were 'photo tular din', men, women, boys and girls were in queues through out different offices of the city 'and be photographed for their voter ID. I saw a few girls in their marriage attire (guessed married recently) all laugh and pink to sweat and photographed, and get their ID corrected' The election time and the Calcutta signals 'the first bugle.' The city is adorned with huge cut-outs of Mamatadi and in some places I found large Md. Salim posters with Jai Ho slogan. Even I thought leftists are coming of age. Nandigram or no Nandigram, Nano of Bengal or Nano of Gujrat, you could never dismiss Mamta or CPM. They dwell in the subconscious of the people, the party or the leader; you have a choice to make. No escape route is convenient. Despite our misgivings about the woman you love her courage, you adore her convictions. You may have reservations about Marxists; but you have to reach their point of view, many times, you feel they utter your voice. Moreover, this is your Calcutta!

'''''''''''''''' I did not have any idea I would be engrossed in such scrabbling.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''' ''''My love for Calcutta was during my formative years, being a reckless student I had some misadventures during my post graduation days. We had a cinema just behind our college, a few of my friends made it a point to skip classes and visit noon shows, first with a desire to see those young cute 'Bengali girls smiling and then those old Bengali movies and their fervors. A Bengali Milani Manch was regularly showing old Benagali classics and romantics. A few of the prints were archaic. I remember a few of them. Alo Amar Alo with Aparna Sen, Ami Sirajer Begum, and that lovely face of Sandhya Ray, Padatik, Calcutta 71,Asani Sanket and the touching scene of the beauty and the ugly, when the man with a despicable figure devours the woman, a sign of tender heart surrendering to the guilt, and those romantic sagas of Supriya and Uttam, Uttam and Suchitra. Soumitra was ageing fast.Lovely lyrics of Manna De number Pathare likhna naam,'. and the music of Hemant Kumar with the singer( I am unable to recollect her name) singing a song of bliss which ran like this aye khuk' ay, a lovely tune depicting the love of' a daughter. I love the days and my love for anything and not everything about Calcutta ends there.

'''''''''''''''''' Apart from Oriya classics I loved Rabindranath, even today I hum.. jadi keu sath namile ekla chalore. My favourite story line was Kabuliwala, my cherished novels were from Saratchandra. Not Rajlaxmi and Devdas, but Charitrahin and and others, I was a fan of Sirsendu, Sankar, Jarasandh. Na Hanyate is my best bet as a love story. The works never belonged to my generation, yet they remain new for years to come.

''''''''''''''''' Later when I worked there, I made a point to visit the churches, to savour the delight of its serenity, to be lost in the hanging chandeliers of Victorian craftsmanship. I saw women asking you to accompany them to a movie, standing in rows, even in columns in the streets and you have, at times, a desire to fall for them.

'''' 'Notwithstanding the dark and unpleasant, for me Calcutta is a land of possibilities. It never stalls you rather you grow there.

'''''' ''''''''''''''''''''''I remember the sweet woman from Tangra, who herself cooked in her restaurant in Tangra for a few of us, the lovely lanterns, and the paintings of the fairy beauty with Chinese scrawls , which she presented me, when I left the place. She is no longer Chinese, a symbol of Calcutta and its love.'''''''''

'