The City of Joy, as Kolkata is fondly called, sure has a lot to offer to the astute observant. I’ve been here for a just over a week now and this city has already amused me with its various novelties.
This is a city where every mode of transport known to man is available - right from the otherwise extinct hand pulled rickshaws to metros and local trains. The metros, besides the very scarce air conditioned ones, unfortunately do not manage to live up to those seen in Delhi and instead, resemble Mumbai local trains, with the exception of doors and relatively serious looking people. But on a metro, you will most likely catch a glimpse of your typical Bengali woman, wearing a crisp sari, with intellectual looking glasses perched on her nose and a large bindi adorning her forehead. And most people have large stoned rings (to save themselves from the infamous Bengali 'jaadu-tona' that everyone keeps warning me about?)
Furthermore, I realized that this is one of those rare cities where chivalry still exists, because no guy, and I mean NO GUY will ever sit or even stand in the ladies section of the metro, even if it's the only section where there is place to sit. If you have two bulging things in the lower half and not the upper half of your body, you shall continue to stand in the metro and not sit in the ladies section! And it's crazily hilarious the way people run for the card swiping machine when they reach the metro station, like a pot of gold is waiting for them at home. It would've been far more hilarious if people didn't stamp on my foot every time they tried to run.
The metro station is my source of learning Bangla, as I keep observing Bengali letters and notice that they are in the Devanagri script, but are probably a bit more fancy and angulated. Say, if the Hindi alphabets went out drinking and partying, they'll end up looking like Bengali alphabets.
But a metro is perhaps the best mode of transport for a newcomer in the city, as the roads are bound to confuse you endlessly. The roads here follow their own circadian rhythm, being one ways half the day and then two ways the other half; or if need be, suddenly change their direction altogether at a particular hour of the day. Which reminds me, it's almost hilarious to see so many seedy by-lanes here with regal names from the British era, which actually sell spurious alcohol and chicken biryani for ten bucks.
Furthermore, there are so many life-size cut outs of Mamta Bannerjee at various crossings, that if the real Mamta Di passed by, I don’t think I’d notice. Also, seeing how nearly everyone speaks Bangla, it’s pleasantly surprising to see many eateries and auto-rickshaws blaring forgotten 90’s Bollywood songs, which remind one of the days when even Sunny Deol had bad hair days and Karisma Kapoor had a unibrow.
It’s truly a wonder that, with the rock-hard water that this city has to offer, you don’t see too many bald heads. Perhaps it is a bane exclusively for us outsiders, who will have many recently epithelialised hair follicles to show as proof of having lived in Kolkata. And speaking of water, the humidity here is bound to catch even a true blue Mumbaikar off guard. The sweat of Kolkatan’s is the answer to the world’s water crisis I tell you!
These are of course, mere observations from a slightly cynical newcomer to the City of Joy. I’m sure to find lots of things that will give me true joy as I’ve heard this historical city has lots to offer to art and literature enthusiasts like yours truly.
