I grew up in Jaffna, and as a teenager, my sources of
information were Tamil weeklies and monthlies from Tamil Nadu, India. I was aware of developments in Tamil Cinema
and Tamil Nadu Politics. I probably knew
more about Tamil Nadu than an average citizen of Tamil Nadu. Tamil Nadu publications in the sixties were
largely pro-Congress, praised Gandhi and Nehru, but the Cinema was tilting
towards the Dravidian movement. That too
I followed closely, developed respect for EVR, CNA, MK, and MGR.
Beyond these leaders, I read about Bose, Tagore, Ray, Mother
Teresa, Swami Vivekananda and Swami Ramakrishna Parama Hamsar. They all had one thing in common – they
called Calcutta – Kolkata, the City of Joy, Home! Despite travelling across the Indian
sub-continent, and having been to all states from Baluchistan, Pakistan to
Kulna of Bangladesh, I haven’t had the opportunity to visit the State of West
Bengal, home of Kolkata. This changed
last month when I managed to spend 36 hours in Kolkata.
Queen Victoria Building, Kolkatta
After checking in at a hotel near the airport, I decided to
venture out around noon on a Friday afternoon.
I was looking for downtown, and Google said that the City Center is
about 5 km away. I Ubered my way
there. I assumed it would be the
‘downtown', and I was wrong. It did not
resemble India at all. I have seen
modern malls amid congested areas of Delhi, but this City Center was very
different. It is next to a very modern
freeway on a service road, just the way you expect to see in the western
world. It is a mid-size mall, a five-story
building, with all modern and fashionable boutiques, cinemas and restaurants. It even had a cricket practice net on its
rooftop. Cricket Crazy Indians, I
murmured. A Khadi shop attracted my
attention, bought a couple of Khadi shirts, thinking of Gandhi; treated myself
to some Bengali sweets and a Masala Chai.
Then I had no more interest in the mall.
A Cricket Practice Net on Top of a Mall
Hired a Taxi for the next stop and told the driver that I
wanted to see Howrah bridge and go pass the Howrah Railway station – key landmarks
of Kolkata. As I neared Howrah, I
witnessed the Indian Kolkata again.
Crowded & congested, traffic jam, trams, Ambassador-Taxis and the
works. This part of India must have been
a posh area at one time. For some
reason, the streets reminded me of Paris, both sides with four to five-story
apartments built at least 100 years ago.
Pedestrian walk areas were occupied by squatters or hawkers. We finally reached Howrah station, but it was
only about 5 pm, and the evening is still young. The Taxi driver was not interested in leaving
me, he offered to take me to other places, and we agreed that he will take me
to Ramakrishna Mutt, which was on my list to do next day.
The Hoogly River from Ramakrishna Mutt - Shri Dakshineswar Temple in the background
I was very glad that I went to the Mutt when the sun was
about to set. The Mutt is along the
Hooghly River, a distributary of mighty Ganges.
There were libraries, museums and eateries. The main shrine reminded me of Sultan Qaboos
Mosque in Muscat. Some exceptional
architecture. I spent time quietly,
enjoying the breeze from the river and the tranquillity a shrine could
offer. An elderly western woman
(probably my age) started conversations if I am an Indian. When her friend, an Indian lady, probably in
her eighties realized that I am from Sri Lanka, she started chatting about Sri
Lankan politics and state of its cricket.
Neither were great at the moment, I must admit. I returned to the Hotel and had a quiet
evening.
Ramakrishna Mutt
The next day was India’s Republic Day. The hotel I stayed was a part of a ‘Colony’,
in the West known as a housing complex. Well-dressed
middle-aged and elderly residents gathered around an empty swimming pool with a
flag mask. I realized that they were
about to celebrate Republic Day and wanted to be a part of it. Quickly got dressed and went to the
gathering. Together, they sang the
National Anthem, an elderly man hoisted the flag, then they sang more patriotic
songs, and served sweets to all. The
National Pride was in everyone face. I
got back to my hotel room, and watched the celebrations in Delhi, the parade
and of course the PM walking at the end to greet some of the visitors and
giving them high-fives!
Republic Day Celebration at a Colony
It was time for me to check out and I still have about 10
hours for my flight. Hired a Taxi and
went to Mother Theresa’s home. It was
very simple, clean, and there were a shrine, museum and the tomb of the
mother. Mother's bed/office room is kept
the way it was. It's hardly more than 3
m by 3 m in space, a single bed with a thin mattress, wooden desk, meeting
table and a wardrobe were arranged neatly within it. A Crown of Thorn was hanging on the wall,
said to be the one the mother was looking at as she passed away. She lived in this room all her life, the room
did not have air conditioning. World
leaders, including the Pope, met her in this room. I realized the meagre materials we need for
our living, yet our wants are unlimited, leading to enduring pain. I became emotional and promised myself that I
will treat every human being with due respect.
I think that was the lesson, the Mother was trying to preach.
The Mother is IN!
Mother Theresa's Tomb
I continued to fulfil my tourist duties, stopping at the
Queen Victoria Palace, the Eden Gardens, St Paul’s Cathedral, and Birla’s
Planetarium. The disappointing stop was
the Kalighat Kali Temple. It was
crowded, full of hawkers and stray dogs within the shrine compound, and
‘thieves’, claiming to be Hindu Priests exploiting worshippers. What a contrast to the cleanliness and
tranquillity Ramakrishna Mutt? Two Hindu
shrines in the same city with contrasting settings.
Kalighat Kali Temple
My final stop was the Mother’s Wax Museum, modelled after
Madame Tussaud’s Museum in London. Most
of the Figurines are of popular Bengalis, although there were a few other
Indian and International Celebrities. I
was very happy to see the Figurine of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, who led Bangladesh
to independence. Except for the
Religion, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis have nothing in common, I think. As I walked through, I could not resist photographing
with Einstein and Julia Roberts.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman
Now, it’s time for me to depart Kolkatta, the City of Joy,
so I headed to the airport!
