Now that there is just one day left in the city, my heart is breaking at this parting. In the mad rush of the last few days I've tried to meet people and cram as much of Kolkata as possible into the days and ways. My parents being angry and not talking to me only helped as i consequently spent most of my waking hours outside the house (sometimes somnolently).
I love this city like i possibly do not love/never loved any human being. I adore the 'oh its such a small world' talk every two seconds in completely unexpected company again (this happens much less frequently in Dilli but happens nonetheless). I adore my need to madly scramble for the camera every two seconds: to capture that half moon or that fern growing out of the crevice of an old house. Incidentally, one of my favourite houses on the Bengal Lamp way is being demolished, presumably to make way for another block of flats. Another one bites the dust but Kolkata Kolkata-tei. I adore the pointless rambling walks discovering new things (importantly telebhajar dokan or jhalmuri-ola) every moment. I adore the company. The lyadh. The roddur (in combination with this surprising thanda, it's towtally awesome!). The barandas and chhaads. The mod and the mad. How could I ever feel that I might cease to belong to this place? I love it. I hate it. I adore it. I loathe it. I'm attracted-repulsed, manipulated.by-managed.to.extract.myself.from the city that has stamped itself on my flesh and bones. I lament for it and celebrate it at the same breath. We belong to and with each other.
I walked down the stretch from Tolly Metro to my house about 20 minutes back. I did try to scramble for the camera as i saw the old half moon luminously hanging over the cemetery and the dark, old, sometimes crumbling houses on the other side of the cemetery. I realised the pointlessness of trying to capture the scene: not just with my own paltry camera but with anything but memories and words describing those memories. Hence the post.