Coffee, Cacophony and Contrast

by Asmita Chakraborty (India)

Making a local connection India

I followed Rupsha, as she expertly navigated her way through the nooks and crannies of the historic College Street, the largest secondhand book market in the world. The mile-long avenue was dotted with hundreds of bookstores, big and small. A smell of new books, dreams, tea, mothballs and smoke hung in the biting air. I had come to Kolkata during the winter break. Kolkata, the city of Joy, an expert blend of cultures and the never ending hustle-bustle, was also, my hometown, although not my place of residence. "Here, hold my hand. Don't get lost." Rupsha smiles at me. She knows of my love for books and my tendency to get lost in them. Rupsha, my cousin, had taken it upon herself to give me a tour of the uncertain magic the streets of Kolkata had. After thorough bargaining and scrutiny, we decided the weather demanded for a quick bite and a hot drink. In the heart of College Street, is the Indian Coffee House. Coffee House has been a place where discussions happen and views and opinions are voiced. It has been popular among writers, poets, artists and political leaders. Inside, with the famous staircase, which remains a selfie-point for most visitors (a tradition, really), and pictures of bong influencers and leaders, Coffee House has an old- world charm, which remains unmatched to any other place in the state. In short, Coffee House symbolizes nostalgia to the fullest. Having ordered cutlets and coffee, we proceeded to take in our surroundings. The "adda" (love for long conversations) seemed to have lived on, through the years. And the chowmein and cigarettes are constant. Finally, when the food arrived, we just couldn't resist! The coffee was just a sheer delight, and the food so scrumptious. We took lots of pictures. After all, nostalgia should be celebrated! When we finally proceeded for home, the last rays of sunshine were disappearing and darkness had begun to set. As we happily walked home, tired but content, suddenly it began to rain. Rain, yes, in December. Which necessitated a tram ride. Trams, although far from extinct, have definitely diminished in number, but are still very much a part of the charm of the City of Joy. Adding to it, they are also eco-friendly modes of transportation. Leaning across the wooden bench, I quietly watched the city glide by, fresh and crisp with a sudden shower, with the distinctive growl of machinery as accompaniment. Watching the pale fluorescent lights, I was shaken out of my trance. "Hey, it's our stop" Rupsha said. Alighting from the tram, I wondered, what Kolkata really was, in essence - a city of contrasts, where vibrant met chaotic, royalty met poverty and simplicity met boldness. When we think of travel, the places which come to mind are Paris, Amsterdam or the exotic beaches of Bali. Rarely, do we consider our roots as the ideal place of travel. I aim to make a local connection as well as indulging in the unknown. Paris and Amsterdam will happen,all in due time. As I bid adieu to the city, I had only one word in mind, the biggest contrast of all - "aashchi", (I will be back).