Though I’m not much of an anniversary fan (too much going on in the present!), for me 2022 marks 40 years of visits, lodgings, dinings, rovings, seekings, capturings, musings, meetings, driftings, hurryings, wanderings... and addas...in, at, and around Calcutta.

Every Calcuttan has marvelous, compelling, heartwarming, and gripping tales to tell. One of the joys of social media is that so many of them can now be told for the benefit of an appreciative audience. For my own part, mere time has made me an old Calcutta hand of sorts, because 40 years is a sizable chunk to consider. I can only add a few informal words to the Great Calcuttan Communal Masala Kettle, as it were. On a more exalted plane, the city is certainly worthy of a sobriquet I like: The Star of the East.

In standard fashion, I first came to the city via the epic three-step gateway of Howrah Station, Howrah Bridge, and Barabazar. It was nighttime, in a dim, sparsely populated tram. (The Howrah side itself naturally fits handily into my consideration of the great Hooghly-divided conurbation, but that’s another story.)
The 1980s. Back then, at night, more murk than light. Palpable excitement – what would daylight bring? After fading in, the city presented itself without any pretentions, and one could simply join in the rhythm of things without any fuss.

Unique to Calcutta were the hand-pulled rickshaws of course, but no cycle- or auto-ricks allowed. Plenty of those little horse-drawn coaches still plied. Fitted-out with louvred shutters, concealing passengers with closed-in shade, they were like old-time palanquins on wheels. Regretfully, I eschewed hailing one. As an impoverished ana-jana wallah (wayfarer), I had to watch every anna and pie, and I’d expected them to be pricey. Consequently, the only wheels which I availed myself of at that time were a few carefully chosen tram rides. The bouquet of these coach routes was more of horse manure than diesel, though when they roared by, the gigantic tractor-pulled double-deckers spewed out more soot than a factory chimney, it seemed.

The Calcutta I initially happened upon was about midway through the Jyoti Basu Era. I duly adopted it as the definitive version. I decided then and there to take in the city as it is, not as it was and was no longer, nor how it should or shouldn’t, could or couldn’t be. When I happened to lock gazes with the Chief Minister himself in a chance encounter in front of Writers’, his look through his huge television-lensed specs was one of ‘holding the fort’. Rather, a status quo possession of Writers’ Buildings, as an analogy for West Bengal itself. A continuum meant to continue without end. I must say, throughout those years, it seemed there was a marked stability in the city’s fortunes, neither good nor bad, but mostly both. Stagnation is a more accurate term. For me, appreciator of Calcutta as it is, this meant that for all sorts of reasons, an amazing number of heritage sites remained in stasis. Or if in decline, they were not noticed for being so, to be replaced with something that was supposed to be ‘better’. There is no irony in this. Baldly put, this was an administration that could not, would not, tackle everything it should have.

The Basu Era seems long off now, but for we who take notice of the many high-quality heritage sites in the city, an absence of action in their care was better than misguided action, such as demolition. A knotty conundrum, and that’s where the irony lies. That is, doesn’t a regard for the people themselves come before inanimate streets and bricks, special-interest buildings, and historical remains? Well of course it does. Nevertheless, environment is all-encompassing. In the mix, everyday people love the environments they’ve always known – provided they are benevolent and serviceable, nurturing, and familiar, no matter how humble. If the features therein have character, style and historicity, the effects are enriching, comforting, even inspiring.

It’s a given that the results of preserving that which is culturally and historically noteworthy are going to be lastingly welcome and purposeful. In addition, those numerous sites on more everyday levels, loved for their familiarity and the human acts and memories in and around them, are just as important. Intrinsic goodness is a natural occurrence in so many corners of the city. Jadu Babu Bazar is a random example. Organised, sophisticated, yet down to earth and geared for the daily townsperson, needful of basics. Tiretta Bazar, Kalighat’s temple and neighbourhood, Hastings, Behala, and too many to list here.

Calcutta is a family-oriented city. With good reason, for it is a fantastic place to explore. I’m no publicist or tour guide, but everything from Durga Puja pandals to the Zoo, from the great cultural institutions to cricket pitches and carrom parlours, the Star of the East has it all! (Say, that sounds like a pretty good TV ad...)

Anyone may adopt a pleasant familiarity with Calcutta for one very good reason: an absence of pretentions. Not only is there no need for them here, but what good would they do? Best to take the city as it is, but to foster an appreciation, of its peoples’ achievement, its historicity, and the world-class qualities therein. Plus, an open-minded awareness of the city’s utter uniqueness is both advantageous and edifying. The place it occupies upon the stage of the world’s truly great urban communities is well-established. Within such clarity, issues are better addressed, and improvements follow accordingly.

Oh, but how things have changed! Dakshineswar, once an intimate and quiet retreat in the past, now a full-blown devotee (and tourist) destination, seems more a citadel for noble Swami Vivekananda than gentle Sri Sri Ramakrishna. So many more locales to compare and contrast, but as sweeping statements go, I think Calcutta is more Calcuttan than ever. Besides, the populace itself wants it, needs it, makes it so. More than ever.

The 2020s. I enjoy the Calcutta of today. All things considered, credits outweigh debits. The traffic and pollution are global conditions, but the invasion of flyovers in the city is a major disappointment. Critiques of obvious negatives need no repetition from me. On the positive side, there’s much to recommend.

To cite only a few examples, awareness of Calcutta’s heritage sites has grown, though active efforts to preserve them must go into high gear now, and to keep reckless development in check. Thanks to my gurus Prof. Nisith Ranjan Ray and P.T. Nair, the Town Hall was saved and endowed with its Library. Many buildings have received much-needed attention, even if it is only a new paint job. Trams still ply and must continue. The Metro is a success, and the ongoing development of mass transit and sustainable alternatives are goals that will benefit one and all. Like so many human habitations the world over, Calcutta has been overwhelmed with the wages of internal combustion.

It may seem a little uneasy in taking such a stance in this ‘On Wheels’ chronicle, but the sooner we get past the fossil fuel age, the better. After all, whatever force powers the vehicles of the future, wheels will always be turning in Calcutta – the Star of the East.