An Expatriates Inheritance

Debdutta Dhar
Culture, Celebration and Camaraderie - this trio of words will forever invoke in me the feelings and sensations I associate with the vibrant metropolis bestriding the eastern banks of the Hooghly.Calcutta is akin to a drug, a cornucopia of untold delights, a poison which is potent yet pleasurable. Having grown up just across the river from this ancient pile, my fascination with this city transcends curiosity and extends into the realms of fanaticism.A year long exile to Bangalore has only served to heighten my yearning for the glorious elixir which is this city.But having been exposed to the throbbing heart of Mercantile India, how do I now perceive this once beloved utopia of mine? The narrative which follows is a expatriates account of his journey from a chauvinist to a skeptic. From the billowing wind in Princep Ghat to the hallowed portals of Presidency University, Calcutta is a city which hums with artistic temperment. Fine Arts and Culture is moulded into the very fabric of the citys being.Be it the sensuous touch of poetry, the stirring chords of 'Rabindrasangeet', or even the art of Fine Dining so dear to the Bengalis, it's culture and glorious heritage is what the city swears on. But has this perennial preoccupation with the rhetoric resulted in a disenchantment with reality.While the rest of the country embraced change and progress in the seventies, we were busy facilitating a Socialist Revolution. While the world was enthralled by the Capitalist Charm, we remained staunchly socialist. From a politically neutral standpoint, has the pill of intellectuallity left the city terminally incapacitated? Has a steady diet of cultural and social innovation left us unable to throw off this economic limbo we have fallen into? This city and its residents have presided over the states transition from Post-Independence Powerhouse to 21st Century Minnow. At present the city is embroiled in another clash of political ideologies. Despite their high promises none of these political mavericks seem capable of reclaiming the state from the Industrial Graveyard. The once all-powerful Cultural Capital of India resembles a Cartoon Hobo panting after that pie of development which remains forever beyond its reach. My affection for this city has not diminished, my glorious memories of it are not tarnished, but the rose-tinted spectacles through which I viewed it are off. Amongst the Cultural Renaissance and Architectural Marvels is hidden a city well past it's heyday yet still resonating with an intoxicating mixture old-world charm and bookish appeal. To the intelligentsia, Calcutta is still a Mecca, but to a boy on the threshold of his life it seems like the Doldrums of lost oppurtunities.