As the leaves start falling...

Kolkata has never been so dear to me. Far away from the City of Joy, I can feel the subtle yet strong bond I share with the place where I was born. The love for Kolkata lies in the old smell, the crowded streets...the busy sidewalks, the junk food vendors...the fresh sunrises and the dusty twilights...

Autumn must have silently said goodbye by now...winter is gradually setting in with a feeling of coolness and coziness.

Falling leaves and thick fog in the mornings characterize winter in Kolkata…The day starts with sipping a steaming cup of hot coffee and ends with a cozy sleep among the thick blankets that remain tucked up in the cupboards all through the year.

The quaint lanes of the oldest part of Kolkata become vibrant and lively with the smashing and thudding sounds of badminton rackets. Sundays and holidays in winter are great times to play badminton and cricket on the streets.

As a slanting sun peeps round the corners of the big buildings of the city, the cable wires and the dry branches of the trees seem to be the best places for the crows and sparrows to perch on. Breakfast is a yummy experience on winter mornings. Added to the holiday mood, they tend to be spicier and lip smacking. ‘Koraishutir Kochuri’ or ‘Luchi-Alur dom’ seems to be the ruling preferences in every household.

As the day rolls into afternoon, lunch is followed by a snug nap, with orange peels all around…with the sun coming in through closed glass window panes…with goosebumps in your thighs because of the cold…with dreams in your eyes…

Evening follows, cold as ever…with hot tea and fries…doordarshan news…ma’s kitchen seems to be the best place then…the warmth of the stove…the smell of dinner.

It’s no longer a snug winter anymore…no longer warm anymore. Far away from city of joy, the sunrays no longer warm up my cold fingers…

Clouds of Nostalgia

It rained heavily last night...started with gurgling thunders...queer drizzles and ruffling breeze...It must have ended with wet streets, a fresh feeling and dripping rains...I have always loved to bathe my hands in the rain...but I'm so far away that the rain water doesn't reach me anymore...but I can still feel the freshness...the wetness still touches me...deep within me...

Back in Kolkata, it still rains although the pujas are near...rain's a spoilsport now...what with all the shopping still left and so many accessories still to match, you cannot really afford to waste your weekends anymore. The pomp is round the corner, the festivity is on its way...

Last minute touch ups on the Durga idols...a final touch at the pandals...Are the drummers on their way? And the Kolkatans? All year out of Kolkata, only to return during this most loved time...to dance to the drumbeats...to get lost in the festivity and inhale the enchanting fragrance of the incense sticks...'coz this is the time to lose yourself...to dress your best, to eat your best, to speak your best...write your best...and feel your best...

Far away in a distant city, the sky is not as blue as Autumn sky in Kolkata...the fragrance not the same...the music's not the same...

...but, somewhere deep inside my heart, the feeling is still the same...sitting at my desk, hidden behind my machine...I will still be a part of all the festivity...22 years of life have instilled in me the merriment...which pops up exactly at this time...

Deep within me, I still hear the drumbeats and tap my foot in its rhythm...I can still feel the lovely fragrance which refreshes me...my mind's eye still sees the color and vibrancy of Autumn in Kolkata...of Durga Puja...and all the odds and ends that come with it...