SHE WILL WAIT FOR ME

She is a love story.

She is a heartbeat. 

She is no secret. 

She comes dressed in a lemon-yellow shade of wild butterflies. She is slowly walking behind the hurricane like office crowd; she has put on moderate makeup; she is not pretentious of being a little late than the decided time to meet; she is smiling. Of late, she seems a bit harrowed by the pressing demands of a scorching September heat and faltering monsoons. At first sight, I am besotted by her. She is a love story, I wish to repeatedly narrate. She is a heartbeat. She is no secret. She is Kolkata.

To others, this might seem like a mere coincidence. But for me, this is reality. I am missing her immensely. My plight is that of an addict, to whom the reason of intoxication (read reason of happiness) is forbidden. Since, she is Kolkata, my emotions are running high due to some known reasons:

Reason #1: YouTube is sharing suggestions of videos dedicated to Durga Puja. Also on the playlist are those jukeboxes of Dhak Music for Durga Puja (each spanning over 60 minutes).

Reason #2: Twenty minutes into the Soumik Sen directed Bengali movie MAHALAYA instantly reminds me of the timeless tradition, I have been following – listening to Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s recitation of Mahishasur Mardini.

Reason #3: As I am about to finish reading Biswanath Ghosh’s book about his experience in Kolkata (Longing Belonging – An outsider at home in Calcutta), he leaves me feeling emotional again. It is this description on page 187, which moisten my eyes; through his words, he is painting a portrait of the euphoria, I feel along with millions of Bengalis, about the arrival of Durga Puja.

When the flowers of Chatim, devil’s tree, begin to drench the nights with their sharp, seductive scent, you know Goddess Durga and her four children are on their way to a pandal near your home. 

I feel, with every passing day, she is making it so impossible to stay away from her. Especially during the upcoming Durga Puja, I wish, I could be with her. No doubt, she says something very amazing about herself – I am myself, the city of joy. It’s so tough to not love those, who come to my life. For the few days or the lifetime that they continue being in my life, I make sure that they don’t leave. And even if they wish to leave, they do so by feeling the joy of being with me.

Romantic and rebellious; often taken for granted on certain occasions, she walks by my side in the park. I am almost caught unawares, when she suddenly takes my hand in hers, looks deep into my eyes and asks – Will you not come to be with me during Durga Puja? I stare at her blankly. I hesitantly pull out my mobile phone to check the calendar. My heart cowers when I tell her – Sorry. I can’t!

She turns her eyes away from me. She looks straight into the horizon, where the waving waters of Mother Ganges are merging with the skies. A boat passes through. She looks at me again and tells me with a drop of tear in her eyes – I will miss you. I repeat – I will miss you (too).

Today when I call her, in a trembling voice, she tells me – I am a little upset. I stay quiet. All of a sudden, she says – Hey. I am fine. I hear her get excited over some suggestions, she eagerly wishes to share with me. I don’t stop her. After she is done with her long list of suggestions in one breath, I break her heart again. I tell her – I will try. But I know, I will not succeed. Maybe next year.

City of joy, as she loves to be known and addressed; she quietly listens and tells me – You can come down any time of this year. Let’s celebrate our lost moments of Durga Puja by being happy together.

I am about to disconnect the call, when I hear something playing in her background. I ask her – What’s that sound?

Joyously she replies – Someone is playing Dhak in the background. Durga Puja is round the corner.

Finding it tough to fight back my tears, I grow silent for some while. Then I tell her – From next year, every year, during Durga Puja I shall be with you.

She hears me and says – I am your city of joy. Your one and only Kolkata. Come to me anytime; I will eagerly wait for you.

- Virtuous Vociferous | September 18 | September Blog-2 | Never Settle | 2019

IT IS TOUGH TO RECOVER FROM A MOVIE MARATHON

The marathon must be over 
but the stories and their characters 
are still alive.

It was just after that Friday; I had deposited my mind in the reservoir of the night. For a good amount of hours, the reservoir helped the mind to season well to wake up to a Saturday, then follow it up with a Sunday. 

A Saturday, which eventually began at 9.30 am. Rains were in full bloom. Painting the skies in gloomy shades of grey and making the earth feel more wet with its rage, the rains bulldozed every single plan of stepping out in bright colors. 

It didn’t take me much time to decide upon a movie marathon.

So, what was on the platter?

1) SWEATER – a Bengali movie
2) BADLA – a tight Hindi remake of the brilliant 2016 Spanish mystery thriller THE INVISIBLE GUEST 
3) A National Geographic documentary

Sweater. Beginning with the name and the star cast turned out to be no less than a gem. Slightly slow-paced, Sweater transported me to the hilly comforts of Darjeeling. Tuku’s father has found her a match. The prospective groom’s family arrives at an unearthly hour and demands to meet Tuku. Not meeting with much success, they return another day and a strange condition is proposed to Tuku, to be taken in as the bride. The entire story revolved around this strange condition. But as a storyteller and a creative writer, I could understand the various themes, the director helped us to sail through. The climax was unusual. Thankfully, memories of that warm Sweater still lingers in mind.

From the cool comforts of Darjeeling, we drove our way to the ice rich locales of Glasgow. A grey haired public prosecutor had his client believe him that he will put up a winning side for her. Built like a network of barb wired storytelling, Badla made for a good watch. But, having seen the original in Spanish, the climax didn’t have the same impact on me. Still, it was a delight to watch two lovely actors in a remake of a well-made foreign body of work.
   
Thereafter, we jumped into a huge National Geographic vehicle to capture super speeding lightning and thunderstorms. All of it was both; thrilling and jittery too. Yet, the joy of watching a documentary of such stature only left me inspired.

Saturday concluded. Sunday had just begun. Greed to continue with the marathon was still in the back of my mind. 

Thus came in Uronchondi. A Bengali movie shot in and around Purulia district of West Bengal, the movie hurled interesting characters at us. Even though it lacked a serious storyline, I loved the Imtiaz Ali kind of treatment given to the screenplay. I can’t say if the movie would make for a memorable experience. But I am sure of wanting to visit the places, shown in the movie.

Even though the Sunday is long over and I am stubbornly awake, writing this blog post, I must say it is tough to recover from a movie marathon. Because, the marathon must be over but the stories and their characters are still alive; in a way inspiring to get indulged in few more experiences like these.

- Virtuous Vociferous | September 09 | September Blog-1 | Never Settle | 2019