Kolkata


After two decades I am in Kolkata; roaming its street clutching a bag that is my survival kit.
None of its streets known to me once I could find now!
Streets are unbelievably narrow, not that I have grown fat; sitting in a small car, Indica, I am squirming and I have a pain from that; I am afraid that all the people car bus rickshaw would pierce through that thin wall of the door that separates me from the melee.
I went around BTRoad Dunlop bridge Dakhsineswar another new bridge without stopping to come back to GolPark where I am lodged - my foot hold, Bassera.
I was afraid to step out. Places I used to live took hours to locate.
I got caught up in a procession that took four hours - it is celebration of Ms Mamta Banerji's successful completion of one year reign - it was named Barsha (year) Purti.
I remembered immortal creation of Rays' - Hirak Rajar Deshe - Bharsha Purti (completion of Promise) celebration of the tyrant on Pahela Aswin - beginning day without hope (Ashahin)!
Five years ago I expressed my disappointment with Buddhadeb when I was snubbed by a classmate in Kolkata asking me never to return.
I am already suffocating - my inability to trust my surroundings - my birth place India. I am still a citizen of India!
I was nursing a child (dream) in my bosom that has died a while back but I did not know.

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