Old article by Vir Sanghvi,
Most modern Indian cities strive to rise above
ethnicity.Tell anybody who lives in Bombay that he lives in a Maharashtrian
city and (unless of course, you are speaking to Bal Thackeray) he
will take immediate offence.We are cosmopolitan, he will say indigenously. Tell
a Delhiwalla that his is a Punjabi city (which, in many ways, it
is) and he will respond with much self-righteous nonsense about being the
nation's capital, about the international composition of the city's
elite etc. And tell a Bangalorean that he lives in a Kannadiga city
and you'll get lots of techno-gaff about the internet revolution
and about how Bangalore is even more cosmopolitan than Bombay.But, the only way
to understand what Calcutta is about is recognize that the city is
essentially Bengali. What's more, no Bengali minds you saying that.
Rather, he is proud of the fact. Calcutta's strengths and
weaknesses mirror those of the Bengali character. It has the
drawbacks: the sudden passions, the cheerful chaos, the utter
contempt for mere commerce, the fiery response to the smallest
provocation.And it has the strengths (actually, I think of the
drawbacks as strengths in their own way). Calcutta embodies the
Bengali love of culture; the triumph of intellectualism over greed;
the complete transparency of all emotions,the disdain with which hypocrisy and
insincerity are treated;the warmth of genuine humanity; and the supremacy of
emotion over all other aspects of human existence.That's why
Calcutta is not for everyone. You want your cities clean and green; stick to
BANGLORE. You want your cities, rich and impersonal; go to Bombay. You want
them high-tech ;hydrabad is your place. But if you want a city with a soul:come
to Calcutta.When I look back on the years I've spent in Calcutta.I don't
remember the things that people remember about cities. When I think
of London, I think of the vast open spaces of Hyde Park. When I
think of New York, I think of the frenzy of Times Square. When I
think of Tokyo, I think of the bright lights of Shinjiku. And when
I think of Paris, I think of the Champs Elysee. But when
I think of Calcutta, I never think of any one place. I
don't focus on the greenery of the maidan, the beauty of the
Victoria Memorial, the bustle of Burra Bazar or the splendour of the new Howrah
'Bridge'. I think of people.Because, finally, a city is more than bricks and
mortars, street lights and tarred roads. A city is the sum of
its people. And who can ever forget - or replicate - the people of
Calcutta?I was told that the city would grow on me. What nobody
told me was that the city would change my life. It was in Calcutta
that I learnt about true warmth; about simple human decency; about
love and friendship; about emotions and caring; about truth and honesty.
I learnt other things too. it was a revelation to live in a city where
people judged each other on the things that really
mattered;where they recognized that being rich did not make you a
better person - in fact, it might have the opposite effect.I learnt
also that if life is about more than just money, it
is about the things that other cities ignore; about culture,
about ideas, about art, and about passion. In Bombay, a man with a
relatively low income will salt some of it away for the day when he
gets a stock market tip. In Calcutta, a man with exactly the same
income will not know the difference between a debenture and a
dividend. But he will spend his money on the things that matter.
Each morning, he will read at least two newspapers and develop
sharply etched views on the state of the world.Each evening, there will be
fresh (ideally, fresh-water or river) fish on his table. His
children will be encouraged to learn to dance or sing. His family
will appreciate the power of poetry. And for him, religion and
culture will be in inextricably bound together.Ah religion! Tell
outsiders about the importance of Puja in Calcutta and they'll
scoff. Don't be silly, they'll say.Puja is a religious festival. And Bengal has
voted for the CPM since 1977. How can godless Bengal be so hung up
on a religions festival? I never know how to explain them
that to a Bengali, religion consists of much more than
shouting Jai Shri Ram or pulling down somebody's mosque. It has
little to do with meaningless ritual or sinister political activity.The essence
of Puja is that all the passions of Bengal converge: emotion, culture, the love
of life, the warmth of being together, the joy of celebration, the
pride in artistic ex-pression and yes, the cult of the goddess.It may be about
religion. But is about much more than just worship. In which other
part of India would small, not particularly well-off localities, vie with
each other to produce the best pandals? Where else could
puja pandals go beyond religion to draw inspiration from everything
else? In the years I lived in Calcutta, the pandals featured Amitabh Bachchan,
Princes Diana and even Saddam Hussain! Where else would children
cry with the sheer emotional power of Dashimi, upset that the
Goddess had left their homes? Where else would the whole city
gooseflesh when the dhakis first begin to beat their drums? Which
other Indian festival - in any part of the country - is so
much about food, about going from one roadside stall to
another, following your nose as it trails the smells of
cooking?Certainly, you can't do it till you come and live here,
till you let Calcutta suffuse your being, invade your
bloodstream and steal your soul. But once you have, you'll love
Calcutta forever. Wherever you go, a bit of Calcutta will go with
you. I know, because it's happened to me.And every Puja, I am overcome by
the magic of Bengal. It's a feeling that'll never go away.
