‘I am wrapping up from Kolkata’ – a phrase that I have been using opulently since the past week. After staying here for almost six years I am going back to my roots, to my hometown. I have carefully distanced myself from the most hyped about class of people for whom Kolkata is the be all and end all.And now as I feel terribly attached to this city and begin to grow cautious of overstepping the ‘balance of emotion’ I so insist upon I realize that this city means what it does to me because of the people that I have encountered and associated with.
Coming to Kolkata has been about getting into school to learn from amazing teachers, who have come to be a treasure for my life, knowing friendship and finding amazing friends and guess what - about discovering my own self. Living here has been about finding new meaning in the odd bunch of relations I had known to exist in all parts of the city and about having weird experiences in the PG where I stayed and having all the more weird food the tiffin service had to offer the poor veggie gal and wondering how I was putting on weight in spite of surviving the daily torture of papaya.
It has been about walking down the streets of College Street, having ludicrous experiences in the famous Coffee House, having Momo at the Exide crossing and being called ‘Momovati’ by a dear friend(Oops!), meeting unexpected people in the library, cursing the CU people almost to the verge of hating my self for coming to this city(wince wince), fighting over with my friend on whether to take the metro or the bus, being told by her - at almost every crossing-how awesome the phuchka wala is(which has almost led me to believe that all phuchka walas in Kolkata are awesome).
It has been about noticing a house named "’Khelaghar” (playhouse) on my way to school with charm; as it bore the name of one of my most favourite songs penned by Tagore; of savoring the flavor and feel of the silent past of ‘North Calcutta’, of running to the refuge in Belur, of being desperate to go back to my hometown during Durga Puja and of just being and knowing more of myself.
And now as I am on a spree of tracing back my steps and gathering all the little somethings , I think of missing the people and the aeon spent here, and know for myself that all of it has beautifully become a part of me.
