Growing up, I would listen to tales of how, the sky was one big blanket that
was shared by everyone. I remember being fascinated by this concept, and
fantasizing, how everyone pulled, to get a comfortable cover…and coming to the
conclusion maybe that’s why there is a day here, and night in another part!
Taking a walk along the Ganges the other day, I had the same
feeling of being “One.” People from all
walks of life were mingling as if one, some were taking a bath, others resided
there, and for some it was their place of business. The quiet charm exuded by
the place, the simple lifestyle, and the old buildings standing staunch witness
to the transition lulled in a string of peace that I had been seeking for some
time.
Shaping it differently
The kaleidoscope of images, started with a walk through the
potter’s lane (Kumortuli). The sight
of half finished sculptures, molds of figurines, completed figurine –all set
to dry, and the creators, in their humble attire, working on these idols. The
magic of creations softly passed you by, almost missing you.
Down another lane, across the rail tracks, and we were at the
bank of Ganges. Boys and men attired in cotton saffron hued dhoti, with red and white markings on
their torso and legs were preparing for the ceremony at dusk. The various
temples lining the banks were filled with the hum of people. The smell of
incense, mingling with the warm slightly bitter smell of water and dirt,
beckoned you to explore a different way of life, in the middle of a bustling
city!
Silent witness
The stout colonial architecture, now in ruins, and in a
state of disrepair are the witnesses of the transformation that has taken
place, yet is standing on the threshold. The pigeons flocking in abundance all
over, whispers a story of hardship, yet simplicity...lives wrought with poverty,
but standing strong on belief! A place, where a carefree dive into the Ganges,
worming your way by the boats is fun: that far exceeds the comforts and
digitized entertainment option. In the approaching twilight, perk up as the sounds
of conch shells celebrate a way of life that is fading away slowly.
As the sun is about to set, the breeze tells you night is
about to fall, the brilliant glint promises a new tomorrow!
Tale(ing) Time
Returning home, through the old lanes of Kolkata, by the crematoriums,
I chanced upon a small watch repairing shop. A chat with the owner, revealed a
dwindling legacy of three generation.
Old grandfather clocks, to skeletons of long extinct wall clock models,
spoke of the time that was gone by. Started three
generations earlier, this shop
is one of the few remaining watchmakers in the city. The barren brick peeping
out of scaffolding, in this small room tells you a tale of an era not quite
gone by.. hanging by a single thread of a robust past...lost!
Next time you feel down, imagine the sky as one blanket, encompassing all, small pockets of lives that still thrive in different nooks! It will fill your heart with warmth, and wonder, which far exceeds the bytes of this digital dynamic age!
