December'er Shohorey

 

It’s 2020, the lockdown had deepened and the hushed murmurs of a few people whispering about the recent COVID case found in a nearby neighborhood seeped through  my room’s window carried by the quiet of the road outside my railway home. I remember sitting near the window(as usual) with my laptop scrolling YouTube when I found this piece of art, a song about Calcutta named ‘December’er Shohorey’.

Calcutta as a city had always fascinated me in ways words scarcely describe. This song at that moment transported me to the city of joy while being confined in the four walls of my room. I was not able to understand it word by word but it felt like a gentle whisper which touched a part of me.

 

It’s 2024 December and I’m in Calcutta. Maybe manifestations do work.

The OG Yellow Taxi.

 

I see those old rustic buildings waving Hi to my old rustic soul as I pass by them. My friends mutter about the chaotic parking that clutters the roads, but I can’t help but smile as I pass by the yellow taxis, like scattered pearls, each one a little piece of Kolkata’s heart.

An entrance full of paper advertisements.

 

I see the Princep ghat on a ferry. It feels like beauty undisturbed by the rush of time, old and new, chaos and calm, all blended together.

 

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Park Street stands in all its glory. In one moment, I’m savoring a Kusum roll, and in the next, I’m seated at Peter Cat, looking at my non vegetarian friends having Chelo Kebab :/.

Before I know it, I’m lost in the aisles of Oxford Bookstore, completely absorbed in the postcards and books about the city.

That’s the charm of bookstores in every city. On each shelf, you uncover a new book, a postcard, or photographs each offering a fresh perspective ,a story or a moment of the city frozen in time.

The Indian Coffee House, Calcutta

The wall outside Indian Coffee House.

 

I capture this wall outside the Indian Coffee House which has become a canvas for teenagers who believe that leaving a scribbled message or sometimes just initials for their crushes will manifest it to reality.

The weathered stone, scarred by time yet enduring, has become the quiet keeper of these unspoken confessions. Who knows, they might actually come true?

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, we finally step into Trincas. Live jazz music fills the air, blending with the laughter and chatter of vibrant people.

 But it's the women who truly captivate me.

They dance and swirl with the jazz as if they've conquered the world, as if they’re the man in a man’s world, thriving unapologetically in it.

The little girl inside me laughs in delight, seeing in them everything she dreams of becoming—free, bold, and alive.

Is this Kolkata in its full glory? If it is, then I’m already hopelessly in love with it. I think to myself.

A building which caught my eye.

 

Calcutta feels like a free spirited, full of life female lead from an Imtiaz Ali movie who is on the verge of spreading her wings and claiming the sky to be hers while “तू ख्वाब सज़ा, तू जी ले ज़रा, है तुझे भी इजाज़त, कर ले तू भी मोहब्बत” from In Dino in Pritam’s voice plays in the background.

Anoushka💓