After a long time, I was working all alone and was alone in the streets of my home town...the city with inexplicable memories, each and every nook and corner. The calender earmarked it with Eid. One of the pious festivities that the Islamic world celebrates with one singular voice: "Mubarak (congrats)". This world has traveled all the lexicons from the Mecca to the Macau... Arab to Phillipines... "Mubarak..Eid Mubarak".
31/8/11. A day, that I revisited the by-lanes of city. Those, that I was regular, at a time when everything was new with the freedom of becoming a High School kid! Then college, brought in those places, vividly. Today, Eid glittered the lights through those by-lanes, bypassing the present day's chores of a PhD scholar, to a regular Bengali, loving to walk through the streets of Calcutta..
It was some nominal chores at my work place.. feeding the bacteria on some new "food beds"; spinning down the DNA; frantically finding the primers for a Gradient PCR...technicalities is so normal these days, for me. Then, I had promised a Biriyani treat for my mom; from the famous Arsalan. But then, you had to cope up standing in the queue for more than an hour to book your parcel. Wish I had Barrack with me to give me the taste of Arsalan's Biriyani on Eid MuBARRACK! ;) I retraced the pavement, and succeeded in buying the stuff from Alibaba. (It was good, but not like Arsalan's)
With the food packed in order, I boarded the auto, not knowing that my romance for this OLD CALCUTTA would change the day...still keeping pace with my mood!
The vehicle swerved through the Mullickbazar's vehicular debacle, to land up in Eliot Road. The name was common as ten years ago also, I was a common factor in these lanes, twice a week. For my English tuition. The group that changed my outlook, happened to be formed in here and there you go; the names and faces came fluttering across my memory... (all settled in their own spheres...busy with life now).
Eid always brings in a jolt of breeze that suddenly start smelling like autumn. The genetical clock of the Bengalis start sensing time for the Pujas to arrive. The roasted meat, the biriyani, the flowers..they all intermingle with the smell of the old residential bricks that brings in the sense of belonging to the place, with your soul. This season I will miss a major chunk of the festivities... But I wish to rediscover Calcutta more...
This time, I will have my Nikon D5000 with me!
