Since my obstinate decision to move back to Kolkata last year I have often asked myself if it was a wise decision …. After all moving back in with mum is not the ideal thing to do when you are 25(heck I were in the States I would be considered demented or gay for taking such an action , come to think of it that wouldn’t be too far from the truth ) … my journey from the quaint Secunderabad station to the chaotic melee of humanity that is Howrah was in many ways symbolic of the confusion driven turn my life was taking…
After negotiating my way through an army of coolies, as I drove away in a taxi (the rusty non-electronic meter of which gave me anxiety attacks) the sight of the grotesque but familiar Howrah Bridge was like a confident hand on hesitant shoulders…
A year and a lifetime later I am still plagued with such questions… was letting go of the offer to move to Delhi a bad career move….wouldn’t I be happier being a lifestyle magazine reporter in Pune? Isn’t Hyderabad the place where i will get to be unapologetically me, what with the city teeming with friends who love me and understand me for what I am … Doesn’t Mumbai promise me everything that I could ever dream of ? Does my sister’s persistent proposal of moving to the gold laden city of Dubai make some sense, after all it has everything that modernity has to offer…
Maybe ….but life isn’t ever about answering questions is it??My being, I have realized is in many ways attached to this city…pragmatically speaking, that would have been the case had I been brought up in any other city… but the romantic in me likes to believe it’s a tumultuous love affair which has weathered many a storm (my 2 year stand with Hyderabad included)… Often, when I look out of bus windows and take in the sights, or walk the hallowed lanes of BBD Bagh ( there was a point of time when me and my sister used to presume that the “BBD BAG” emblazoned on the sides of the ubiquitous red Kolkata minibuses was actually an advertisement of a brand of bags) lined with spectacular buildings , bearing mute testimony to the changing fortunes of the city, I feel blessed … blessed to be a part of a community which has nurtured a way of life for centuries now… no matter how inconsequential and in the fringes I am...
After negotiating my way through an army of coolies, as I drove away in a taxi (the rusty non-electronic meter of which gave me anxiety attacks) the sight of the grotesque but familiar Howrah Bridge was like a confident hand on hesitant shoulders…
A year and a lifetime later I am still plagued with such questions… was letting go of the offer to move to Delhi a bad career move….wouldn’t I be happier being a lifestyle magazine reporter in Pune? Isn’t Hyderabad the place where i will get to be unapologetically me, what with the city teeming with friends who love me and understand me for what I am … Doesn’t Mumbai promise me everything that I could ever dream of ? Does my sister’s persistent proposal of moving to the gold laden city of Dubai make some sense, after all it has everything that modernity has to offer…
Maybe ….but life isn’t ever about answering questions is it??My being, I have realized is in many ways attached to this city…pragmatically speaking, that would have been the case had I been brought up in any other city… but the romantic in me likes to believe it’s a tumultuous love affair which has weathered many a storm (my 2 year stand with Hyderabad included)… Often, when I look out of bus windows and take in the sights, or walk the hallowed lanes of BBD Bagh ( there was a point of time when me and my sister used to presume that the “BBD BAG” emblazoned on the sides of the ubiquitous red Kolkata minibuses was actually an advertisement of a brand of bags) lined with spectacular buildings , bearing mute testimony to the changing fortunes of the city, I feel blessed … blessed to be a part of a community which has nurtured a way of life for centuries now… no matter how inconsequential and in the fringes I am...
P.S. thank u Kama for the snap
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