Missing the City of Joy

5 months- has it really been that long? Time flies, I have heard. Or so I have realized. It’s been 5 months already since I have written something concrete. I’ve been scribbling and all-it helps deal with sudden bursts of creativity that are more often than not short-lived and also with anxiety.

Yeah- I guess anxiety is the right word... Ever since the fall of summer this year, things have gone so downhill with people (in general, I mean. If not, you are definitely very lucky!!) in so many ways and anxiety is obviously culminated. Everyone’s lifestyle and plans hit a low at first, and then after getting adjusted to the new normal, people kinda felt safe in the comfort of their homes and they were anxious of any social interactions.

But till how long? Soon enough, many of us want the opposite- for things to get back on track as fast as possible. Students are having trouble to cope up with the pace of online classes and the pile of assignments are going sky-high while those passing out from colleges are facing the harshness of the job market amidst rising unemployment. Teachers feel sad and helpless that they aren’t able to teach with the ease they were acquainted with in physical classes. Kids who would otherwise be playing in the parks and grounds all day are stuck at home. Work from home has also become quite stressful…

So, I know that many of you are anxious to meet all your friends, relatives, schools, colleges and all the familiar places you used to visit. In fact, I was anxious about this too…But something needed to be done instead of jamming my brain with never-ending worries.

And I felt I should write upon it. Yeah, initially I was pretty doubtful if this piece would also find an end or not . But then I thought- for situations like this, we should venture ahead for a while and let your heart pitch…So, here it comes-

I’m missing the City of Joy

 

Yeah, you read that right. In the middle of all chaos amidst the lockdown, my family had to move in to Kanpur due to Dad’s transfer. Although on the brighter side -that’s temporary for me, coz the moment college starts physically, I would have to fly back to Kolkata.

And yeah, I’m still counting on that –knowing the odds are not very optimistic.

 

This is the second time we’ve got transferred to a new place, the previous one was from Nagpur to Ishapore. Even there, we had spent almost a decade. The only notable difference was back then, I was a little kid. So I thought “transfer” to be a long holiday and I was pretty excited on thinking about it. But alas, I had no idea then that it could possibly be the last time I was seeing my friends there. I had promised them I would be back soon but that  sadly never happened.

And growing up to realize this fact was disturbing enough, realizing there was no going back, losing contact with so many classmates and neighbors and all…

 

Ten long years ago( And gosh, it still feels like only yesterday), when I first came to the Park Estate-a small place in Ishapore which is an even smaller place in Kolkata, I was short of words. The British era bungalows had an exquisite historical feel, and living in one is really a special feeling. Having a mansion to live in- even now this thought amazes me.

The colony was enveloped in lush greenery and the air was so fresh and the atmosphere so welcoming and serene, I bet no one visiting The Park would be able to ignore that. The long road running in meanders was a treat to walk and observe this little, beautiful place.

The sunshine streaming in through the trees, the sight of rare and common birds alike and their chirping, the colorful butterflies on the equally vibrant flowers- it’s hard to find such a place these days in a suburb. 

Not to mention the Riverside Park- which offered the best view of the majestic Ganges I have ever seen so far. It’s my favorite place in the whole colony, and almost everyday I used to go there and spend some time-with or without my friends. 

Sitting under the mango trees in the hot summer afternoon-accompanied by the smell of ripe mangoes, lying down on the soft bed of green grass or dipping my legs in the cool water or sitting atop the pump-house watching the evening sun fade across the horizon-while the white clouds and the blue sky took up hues of yellow, red and orange- this place was charismatic. Then there was the Gunpowder House and the Dutch Tower which became the base for the first fiction I ever wrote.

And how can I forget my school, and my school friends without whom life would definitely have been so less interesting and colorful!!

They were just that awesome- I tell you. We had so much fun and the last few years were even more memorable. Looking back at old pictures only brings to mind one thing: I wanna go back to school!! And I don’t think you would disagree on this, right? I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to say more coz  there’s a lifetime of memories, those school days  gave us- somewhere kept safely and sweetly  in our hearts– and I honestly don’t know which one to say and which one to leave. So I guess I’ll just pass…

I apologize if the flow is haphazard, but what I’m writing has a start and knows no ending… And the fact is I can’t describe one thing without mentioning another- these decade long memories are pretty intricate and closely woven. Just as John Green said- 

“My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations.”

 

Over the years, my fondness for the ever-so familiar places at Ishapore grew as well. So much so that every Friday, the last working day at college, I used to pack my bag and then head for college. Right after the classes were over, I literally used to rush to catch the first auto I could manage so that I could in turn, catch the first possible train back to Ishapore. Waiting for the rows of cars and bikes to stop, glancing nervously at the traffic lights every second, hoping they would turn red soon- gosh…Those were some days. 

And then when I finally did return, life was so pleasant again. Taking a deep breath in the fresh air, looking at the cheerful blue sky and sitting atop the pump house at the Riverside Park cured all my worries.

But even while leaving for home(Oops!! That’s no more), a part of me would love to stay back here at college. There was this strange attachment to college which even school didn’t offer in such a short time…Must have been for the amazing friends( especially those in Apes and Sad Cats if UKWIM) and the memories we made…

Honestly, college was definitely not what I’d imagined during school life, but with you guys-it was certainly bearable at first, and then enjoyable and thrilling!!

From being a complete nobody to making new friends and getting accustomed to the new environment, enjoying our hearts out during CIIPPUS (I still remember you guys singing “We Will Rock You” while the entire crowd cheered. You guys totally rocked out there!!) , playing carrom and T.T in the common room, chilling out at Goku Da’s canteen and that cha khawa after a hectic day, celebrating the birthdays of our batchmates, playing football matches and idling time at the CAB ground, exploring the nearby areas of the city, facing the first semester exams underprepared to starting a new semester with high hopes..All of which came to an end abruptly after SRIJAN. Our unplanned visit to the Victoria Memorial was, I guess, the last time we had gone together. Most of us went back home during Holi, not knowing we wouldn’t return anytime soon…

At times, I still regret not staying back during the weekends, thinking of those unfinished football matches, of spending time at the CAB ground, watching the evening sun fade, those gossips…

 

I look up at the star-filled sky and sigh; realizing I’m all but lost in a maze- amidst those billions of stars.

Neither my old life at Ishapore, nor the new one at Jadavpur... And that hurts, for real…

 

It’s strange, you know-

Two cities separated by so many miles

Like a lover separated from his love

So close to your heart

And yet so far

Making him swing between hope and despair

Searching for ways to find her back

Just like me,

Looking for the City of Joy

Winter…it’s on its way…I can tell by the chill in the air and the withered leaves that winter – it’s on the way…The season when everything becomes so quiet and numb…The sunshine has a gentle and comforting presence that comes and goes ever so quickly you end up doubting if it ever came. Such are the happy days, you know…

They are so fragile, so vulnerable and so short-lived , just like the dry leaves hanging on the branches of the  tree with all their might – until a gust of wind takes them down. And the next moment- they are gone...Quietly they fall, bowing down to the inevitable...

I try to abandon these depressing thoughts and try to imagine how everything would be when things do get back to normal. I would stay in the college ground itself with my friends if need be it, playing and laughing and reliving all those precious college memories and moments.  And then I would get back to Ishapore to meet my old school friends and neighbors. Yeah, I wouldn’t have that mansion and I wouldn’t be a resident of the colony, but honestly- I don’t care anymore as long as I get to see you guys.

Kolkata after all, is not a place-its an emotion and it’s the people who make it so beautiful.

John Green is so good when it comes to words and I can’t help but add another of his lines:

“Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia…You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”

 

Yeah, I’m using the glimpses of the bright future sometimes to escape the harsh present. I’m not short of reasons to love the City of Joy and the people there, I’m still looking for reasons to love this place too. It keeps me going, I know, but there’s one little difference-

I’m gonna do it.

I maybe stuck here for now, but I’m getting back to Kolkata soon… 

To the City of Joy…