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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