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by Madirekshana Chakraborty
(Noida, U.P.,India)

Despite the acrid stench that hung in the air, a familiar aura of joy washed over me as we descended upon the city that was no longer mine. The state of catatonic stupor the hard seats had left me in could only be cured by long walks along the transient streets that encompassed all Bengali evenings.

I remember leading my grandfather by his hand. I thought of the house, a pinprick somewhere in the sea of concrete subsuming the city, standing perhaps since the beginning of time. The house I was born into, whose ocher walls had mothered me and my mother before me, on whose roof I lay under a chadar languishing in the scorched sun all my summers. The endless Indian hot month always seemed a little hotter here, always adding a little more colour to the skin. I had missed how languid it's lungi clad residents were and the honking of its resident yellow ambassadors that plague it's every street.
I had missed home.

This year, the endless summer was disguised into a ten day quick visit. My grandfather
was too weak to walk. I basked in the sun with an added layer of baggage only a high schooler would understand and sunscreen. They stopped making ambassadors a few years ago, a white body with a yellow number plate and 'UBER' plastered on its back windshield is the new self-hood of taxis these days. I forget these things as we circle the city. It deceives me of its volatility, revealing to me only its birds eye view.

I was home, whether I recognized it, or not.

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Nov 12, 2017
Well done
by: Your Name:

Well done Madirekshana... Its short and sweet!
There's always the fear of missing out on something while discussing Kolkata... As a probashi(living away/outside of motherland) child I experienced the smaller towns of Bengal more than Kolkata, such as Panduah, Halisahar, Bardhamaan and Bashirhaat and that was super fun. Kolkata then was just a just a visit to the Zoo or the popular monuments.
My first visit(the proper one) was at the age of 16 yrs. My friend from from Halisahar and simply decided to dodge the watchful eyes of our parents(remember it was 96/97 teen age was far less empowered ☺). My friend and I walked from Esplanade to to St. Paul's Cathedral and enjoying that 6/7 km walk and every thing in between and spent about 5/6 hours....the first Bold runaway, the first of Me and Kolkata...
More existing stories returned with my return to Kol as a working professional in 2007... Because Kol and the beautiful lands of my Sonar Bangla is never shot of moments that you wanna capture, cherish and preserve! We'll talk about it some other time.... Hope to see you writing more.. All the best.

Nov 02, 2017
by: SheilaYour Name:

Well written

Nov 02, 2017
by: Rupa Palchowdhury

This is great writing, missy, my type, sentimental. makes you think. But with this one I could taste the fuchka and smell the tired rickshaw-walla's sweat. I love it

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