Sun, Sweat And Summer

I wonder for the hundredth time what is it exactly about this city that makes me miss it again and again. Did I ever love Kolkata so much while I was staying there? Did I ever think it's the best city all the while I grew up in it...all the while I never came away from it?...And, yeah, I never knew I would miss Kolkata summer!

Hot, humid, sweaty, sunny, scorching...these are the usual adjectives for Kolkata summer...usual, until I started missing a bigger part of Kolkata summer, until I craved to go back to the warmth in the heat, the breeze between the sun rays, the rain at the end of a scorching day.

My oldest memories of Kolkata summer go back to my schooldays. Water in water bottles used to get over faster that time and the ones who retained their water till school got over, had hot, tasteless water left. We used to have innovative ideas to keep water cool till the final bell rang. I used to take a bottle of ice, sometimes two, instead of a bottle of water to school...and, slowly, as the ice melted, it left behind cool water. Running around the school campus, or jumping around during lunch break left us panting for breath, our shirts wet and hair dripping with sweat. Summer in school never used to seem long as we used to have a month long vacation and by the time school reopened, rains would have already hit the city.

Summer vacations were fun. Ripe mangoes, bursting jack-fruits, cold shakes with extra ice, speeding fan, dark rooms with dark curtains drawn tightly to block the sun...not much studies as new sessions usually just start before the vacation, taking bath twice or thrice is fun as it leaves you cool and fresh during summer afternoons...

Summer afternoons in Kolkata, when I look back, bears a strange touch of nostalgia. Thirsty crows perching on lamp posts, dry roads yellowed by the bright sun, black umbrellas to stop the cruel sun rays, lesser people on the streets and more ice cream vendors. During this scorching summer every household has ripe mangoes and juicy lichis in their fruit baskets, squash in the fridge and ice in the freezer.

In college, summer hardly played a spoilsport while hanging out with friends or going out on dates. There's always the long stretch of green grass along the river Ganga which remains cool with the shady trees that tower over the stretch or by the breeze that ripples the river waters and plays with your hair. There are also a lot of parks, all full of cool shades with huge green trees, lots of air-conditioned hangouts, where you can sit for hours with a glass of cold fizz or coffee.

Added to all the heat and sweat is the wait...the eternal wait for the rains. Rain god is merciful at times and the hottest of summer afternoons is often followed by powerful thunderstorms, called nor' westers, cool drizzle and a balmy breeze. Evening walkers increase on these days and the sighs of relief from the Kolkatans fills the city with an air of satisfaction and happiness.

Kolkata is often a lot more than it portrays...a lot more than you see apparently. Behind the scorching sun and perspiring heat, there lies a subtle sense of intimacy during Kolkata summers...an intimacy aroused by cursing the sun, by waiting for nor' westers and loving the cool drizzle on the thirsty streets...an intimacy which comes from the common suffering of all Kolkatans and the common smile after a sudden splashy rainy evening.

Everyone during summer talks about the unbearable heat, about the cheap mangoes, about global warming and how Kolkata is getting hotter every year, about the temperature soaring up everyday, about the rising electricity bill due to continuous air-conditioning, about the humidity and about the wait for the rains.

I miss Kolkata summer...with all the odds and ends...with the heat, the humidity, the common cribbings about summer, the mangoes, the jackfruits, the lichis, the suddenness of the evening rains, the intimacy, the nostalgia. I miss Kolkata summer as a major part of me, a major part of my growing up years...and I love the city all over again, 'coz I miss it so!

When Memories Catch Fire

I came to office today, a half sleepy, half awake self. Usual Tuesday mornings, not even a week after I got back from home, I was still in a Kolkata mood and still reluctant about work.

Suddenly my friend pings me. One of my closest friends from school, her pings always make me happy! She asks "Did you see the news?" I readily thought it was about another school friend who recently had a baby...but she said "no...Stephen Court's on fire!" First reaction in such cases is always a "whattt???"...and she went on, "Pritha! Park Street, Flurys, Peter Cat, Music World...there's a huge fire there, see this link..." I opened the link, and modern technology brought the inferno live in front of me..and I saw a part of my memories on fire, I saw pieces of my nostalgia burning under red flames...

Park Street! If I look back, I will have so many memories here that I will forget the count of it.

My earliest memories go back to the time when I had first learnt to cut a birthday cake...my first few years' birthday cakes where from Flurys', Park Street...a much older Flurys' when it had enjoyed a firm monopoly as the most popular cake shop in the city. While growing up, I remember to have thought about Park Street as always a "wow" part of the city...as the place for the most expensive restaurants where you go only with your parents, and let parents decide, do not order much from the menu yourself, and eat with more etiquette than you ever thought you had...Park Street has always been a place from where you come back before it's too late at night, which is near New Market, so that you officially need to visit it during shopping sprees...Throughout school, Park Street has always been a place of awe and something you look up to.

Things change when you grow up, and in college Park Street became a darling hangout...but still a place where you either go for window shopping, or sharing food or spending when you really are sure you have saved a lot. I remember my first date at Music World (a place with wide arrays of CDs and DVDs). I remember when three of us friends had waited for our fourth friend's boyfriend to come and meet her for the first time...the time when, tired of waiting, we had gone to the cheapest of the Chinese restaurants there and shared two plates of noodles among the four of us (so little we had to spend, but such big hearts we had to share!).

I remember Park Street for all the college life silliness! Running across the roads to find a tree to do a "touch wood" on my first date, waiting eternally on the steps of Music World for friends who perennially come late for every planned meet...Oxford book store to choose a book which my first boyfriend gives me as his first valentines' day gift, Archies' Gallery to choose the best of cards for the best people in my life - him or my best friend or my sister...

I remember St. Xaviers' on Park Street where I won my first Creative Writing prize, I remember Magnolia (invariably one of the costliest restaurants there) where me and my friend suddenly think of going during those college days when we hardly had so much money...end up buying the least costly item, a veg sandwich (every moment cursing the price setters there and repeating for the hundredth time how I could have made the same sandwich at home with one-tenth of this cost), and then falling down on the stairs and shocking the person at the gate with such un-sophisticated behavior!

I remember my first try at CCD and Barista coffee, I remember T3 Tea Table, which I found too sophisticated and over-priced during college...I remember the roadside rolls, the pavement junk jeweleries, the long walks to the metro station, the hunt for cheap restaurants on the most costly streets of the city. I remember buying old books for lesser prices outside the museum, I remember the treat at Barbeque's from the French Institute I was then associated with...

I remember going to Park Hotel for the first time to listen to Violin Brothers with a free pass, having coffee for a hundred and fifty rupees, trying to sit cross legged while listening to the music, debating with my equally "un-sophisticated" friend on whether to have the brown colored sugar that came with the coffee (I still can't believe, we thought it was 'brown sugar'!)

I remember growing up on the streets of Park Street...I remember to have gone to press conferences for ten times to Park Hotel after that when I was working with a local TV channel as a reporter, I remember a much "grown-up and knowledgeable me" checking out and interviewing the people at almost all these big restaurants here for a story on Christmas food for a newspaper I was writing for.

I remember to have gone around Park Street one last time before I left the city for work in another part of the country...and, I remember to have come back at those same restaurants to re-unite with old friends...all grown up, with heavier purses, and a much more "sophisticated" group...

But Park Street had remained the same, with all its old charm, with every nook and corner carrying a bit of nostalgia here, a piece of memory there...a tear, a smile, a hug, a goodbye...

And, today, when the fire brigades are late and the smokes cover my Park Street, when the municipality and political parties debate on who to blame, when news channels show only flames and report casualties of fellow Kolkatans...I see a part of me burning...The nostalgia. The memory. The tear. The smile. The Hug. The goodbye.

Warmth, Colors and Greens...

Mom has always loved Spring, she has her birthday in Spring. She says she loves the fresh greenery, and green, being her favorite color, there is enough reason to love this season...

I never really loved Spring that much...Autumn has always been my favorite and so, silently inside me, I have always felt Spring to be a competitor of Autumn. Many say there's not much difference between the two seasons...but when I look at it on the canvas of my city, I see a lot of difference...

Spring is all about the goodbyes to Winter...goodbye to the seasons of coolness, picnics, slanting suns...Spring paves the way to a hot and sultry summer in Kolkata which never seems to end.

But then, away from my city, I know what Spring used to bring to us...and I miss it so!

My father used to tell this story to me and my sister quite often...the story of Spring (or Proserpina) and Pluto (the king of the underworld)...A simple Greek story which we both loved so much! And, whenever winter paved the way for spring, we used to remember Proserpina and how she ate the pomegranate seeds.

Spring in Kolkata is the shortest season...you can never catch the days when you actually leave your fat winter blankets and start wearing lighter clothes...

Spring mostly comes in around Saraswati Puja (the special day for the goddess of learning and music) and Holi (the festival of colors).

Guys in college say Saraswati Puja is the Bengali Valentines' Day. Girls, aged nine to twenty nine wear saree on this day. Almost for everyone, this is the first day after winter when they go out without sweaters, even at night, ignoring the little nip which is still left in the breeze.

Soon after, it's a common picture in all the lanes of Kolkata - washed sweaters hanging on the clothesline, blankets out in the sun, ready to be warmed and packed back where they stay for another year, more open windows even after sunset, lesser badminton tournaments on the streets. Coming to that, badminton rackets start getting packed and kept on the top of cupboards for another reason - exam time! Spring, is thus, quite a dreaded season for students. It's not nice to come out of a cuddly winter season, give up sweaters, give up playing on the streets and starting to sit indoors with piles of books worrying about studies and exams.

But another festival steals the show - Holi! Getting drenched with colored waters and going mad on the streets and roof-tops is something that everyone looks forward to at the end of winter. After a long time, no worries about catching a cold, no worries about getting drenched...as all these are officially allowed now!

Spring is short but it touches lives of Kolkata people so much that even poets have not forgotten to write about it. New flowers, new leaves on the trees, sunnier mornings, longer days, warmer nights...and cold water bottles again in the fridge, frootis, ice creams, cold tap water and high speed fans in every room...this is what Kolkata Spring is all about!

Away from home, I miss those warm Spring days when we used to come back home from school and college to be ordered around by mom to change and rush for the cold lassi one day...or yummy ampanna the next day...but ice cubes were a must! After all, it warm again now...and winter's gone...

I miss the nascent warmth now, I miss Kolkata all over once more...