I am not a Bengali, but my acquaintance with Kolkata (Calcutta) never takes away the ‘Bengali Didi’ nostalgia in me. I have a long lasting connection with this seductive city. My growing up years in Kolkata date long ago, but there is still so much charm left in those beautiful memories, that every time we plan our schedule for a trip to India, I list Kolkata as my first choice. My bucket list has a Kolkata visit during the Durga Puja for my spouse and son. I want to boast about my memories, of my favourite haunts, my school, my first workplace and my first house till their ears reverberate with my anecdotes.

It has been almost 19 years that I have been separated from my Kolkata. I assume there would be quite a lot of improvements to the city. Since my dad worked for the Banking sector, transfers were always common every three to five years. I had my primary school education at National Girls School near Deshapriya Park and home was just 5 minutes away. I always had a close connection to the Park. If you think I ended up playing there, then you guessed it wrong. I was attached to the Library in the park which was my second home. I used to rush immediately to the Library after school to read the amazing collections they had. The smell of the rustic old books still lingers in my breath. While my friends would be fighting to take turn to swing, slide and ride the 'Merry Go Round', I settled in a corner with a basket full of books. 

This is where I developed my love for books. I loved to read anything. I had no limitations. In fact, I used to settle with a book or paper even when I went to the bathroom. The toilet was my haven where nobody could force me out. My mom always grumbled on finding one or two books behind the window grills or any paper folded near the doors. Sometimes, I used to carry the paper or the recycled newspaper packet which is fondly called as ‘thonga’ where the groceries are packed. Although my mom grumbled, she was never an obstacle to my reading habit and I am ever thankful to her for this.

The hand-pulled rickshaws are a common sight in Kolkata. Although as a child, I enjoyed the ride, I also felt sad for the rickshaw man when he had to balance the trip with plump people. The tram rides were a breeze. On Saturdays, we walked from Deshapriya Park to Gariahat along the footpath and soaked in the charm of the bustling city. I always wished Saturdays never ended because the moment we stepped out of the house, we would be savouring the street food: crispy egg rolls (a wrap with egg omelette lined up with onions and cucumber, drizzled with lemon juice and black pepper, folded alongside with a fresh paratha and wrapped together in a butter paper), tangy phuchkas (aka gol gappa, pani puri, in the rest of the country), fiery jhaal muri with the strong mustard oil smell, greasy chowmein, dry shingaara, milky shondesh and the soft roshogolla in mud pots. Saturdays were always a fun-filled day. We made our way back home by tram rides or the double decker bus.

Nostalgia, food and Durga puja festivities are inseparable. The countdown starts when the materials for erecting the pandal line up the street corners. The huge pandals, chants of Mahalaya, crispy cotton sarees, married Bengali women adorned with sindoor and the unique shakha pola, aloor dom and luchi, Bengali khichudi, begun bhaja and the yummy mishti doi are evergreen memories of my fondest state, Bengal. Pandal hopping with family and friends was always fun because we had chances to flaunt our new dress with matching accessories.

The joy of such flashbacks is very enduring and brings back my connection with the city, where I spent my childhood with priceless memories. As an adult, my working experience in Kolkata never disappointed me. Long strolls along the Shakespeare Sarani connecting to Victoria Memorial with colleagues after office hours were euphoric. The cool breeze with piping hot, steamed groundnuts or masala corn was a hit then.

Thoughts of 'Purano Shei Din Golo', Bhupen da’s 'Oh Ganga Tumi', 'Dola He Dola', Kalighat Temple and the versatile actor Rabi Ghosh’s 'Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne' come crashing down my mind with tears of joy, everytime I think of Kolkata. This city is the source of my splendid memories, and never fails to generate warmth, emotions and nostalgia in me.