Kolkata, Je t'adore. Kolkata, I love you. Kolkata, ami tomai bhalobashi...

I wanted to put in pictures. However, I don't know how to do it. My little friend Sudeep who helps me load pictures is not around. So, I tried, but couldn't .

I would like to tell you about my travels and adventures in and around the city, lately. My friend Lalita lives in Kidderpore. On my way back from Presidency, I usually take Red Road all the way down to Alipore. But recently, I have turned right on the road that goes with the South Gate of Fort William on the right.

Fort William. So much went on there in the 18th century. William Carey, a missionary from Serampore helped in the growth of Bengali as a scripted language. He wrote or supervised the writing of textbooks in Bengali for the British administrators who were trained at Fort William.

I am quoting from Rosinka Chaudhuri's book Gentleman Poets in Colonial Bengal

'Bengali prose was nonexistent in the eighteenth century, as traditional literature comprised oral folk poetry, devotional songs or literary verse in Brajabuli or Sanskrit. it came into being as a direct result of colonization, the first specimens of Bengali prose being translations of legal statues (1785) followed by William Carey's translations of the Bible from Serampore (1800--09), and finally at the Fort William College. publications ranging from colloquies, popular stories, chronicles and legends to definitive editions of literary texts, produced by British and Indian scholars in close collaboration..' (52)

And then as the car raced by, I got glimpses of the Calcutta Race Course and the elegant stands with turrets..

Soon after, squatters below the Second Hooghly Bridge connectors, close to Kidderpore, with their 'establishments'. Makeshift houses under the eaves of the bridge connectors, clothes hanging out to dry just anywhere, children, cooking rituals and some horses that stood around in a desultory manner. These must be horses that are used in the horse drawn carriages which throng the road going past the Victoria Memorial. A sad, tragic, lost, dimmed colonial left over or vestige.

More scenes of semi poverty as one enters Kidderpore. Fancy Bazaar where hawkers display their wares, discarded items perhaps from ships bringing in clothing from other parts of India, may be Mumbai, and also perhaps, abroad.

One sees fifteen, thirteen, sixteen year old boys hawking wares. Running fruit juice stalls. Often teeth not properly brushed, hair not washed in weeks, taking time off from school, to run a business. Makes about 10000.00 a month. Helps family out.

At Rabindra Sarovar park, vistas of children being. Gurgling, laughing, exploring the world. I catch them in all kinds of postures. Some privileged and some not. Mostly happy, though.

Saraswati images on a sidewalk on Ballygunge Garden Road. Made by the Pals of Sodepur and Panihati. Not kumortuli.

So much swirling, magical, encircling and interconnected realities and lives. Kolkata is inexhaustible and I love it:)