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Archive for the ‘Kolkata’ Category

Never again. As I wrestle my way through the umpteenth “Puja sale”, barking at fellow shoppers and terrorising already harried shop assistants, I furiously mutter to myself, “Never again, you fool. But you never learn, do you?”
True, I never learn. Every year, I do this to myself — allowing the mad cheer of the festive [...]

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The dust is slowly settling over the Indian Election Circus 2009, and the shock and awe at the Congress’ (oh all right, UPAs’) sweeping victory is no longer as intense. For the people of West Bengal, though, it’s proving hard to shake off the ‘we have entered a new dawn’ feeling. ‘Green revolution’ has become [...]

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“Apart from bringing a dead man back to life, I can do anything.” Thus spake the man whom Prakash Karat and Sitaram Yechury undoubtedly love to hate, particularly now that he has directly challenged their position as ‘mass’ leaders. In typical style, which the people of West Bengal have come to instantly recognise — and [...]

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I was back at home from work on Friday evening, and sitting in front of the TV, when a colleague called to say she still hadn’t got home because… some people had shot arrows at the bus in which she was travelling, and that had caused a tyre to burst. All this on Mayo Road, [...]

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At the entrance to the office of the Durbar Mahila Samanway Committee, or simply Durbar (the word means ‘unstoppable’ in Bengali), on the periphery of Sonagachhi, Kolkata’s principal red-light district, a large-screen TV set telecasts an India-New Zealand one-day game. A few men and women sit scattered in front of it, while others bustle around [...]

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Rainy October

For the past week or so, it has rained every afternoon. So big deal, you say? Yes it is, really, because this is no ordinary rain. For one thing, the regularity is astounding. On the dot at 2.30 pm, the darkening skies suddenly turn fiercely black, the kind of soot black against which the green trees and white [...]

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That time of year

This is Kumortuli. Tucked away among the serpentine byelanes of North Calcutta (Kolkata for quibblers), it is an ancient, dark, dirty, dingy, smelly place. It is also a magical one, because this is where gods are born.
‘Kumor‘ in Bengali means a potter (‘kumhar‘ in Hindi), and ‘tuli‘ is a variation of the word ‘tola‘, meaning [...]

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