Vedant's thoughts...
Having picked up a few toiletries from Blue Print, a prominent drug store on Lindsay Street, I walk towards New Market. Past seven in the evening on a Saturday, the crowd is thronging the pavements jostling the tiny makeshift kiosks selling ready made garments, leather goods and every household good worth its name. There are fruit vendors too, harking their wares and even cajoling harried housewives with the buy. At a glance the custard apples, pomegranates and melons seemed almost tempting, but I do not fancy striking a bargain for them. The shabby kiosks occupying almost half of the pavements leave little space to walk, forcing pedestrians to spill over to the streets. I pause looking at the endless queue of vehicles which stand bumper to bumper on the street. Not uncommon seeing pedestrians rushing across the road wildly waving their arms at irate drivers who are honking out of sheer impatience and frustration at the impenetrable crowds. Can see quite a few people clutching large plastic shopping bags; Puja shopping fervor is more than evident. Big ones, fat ones, thin ones.... and the children totting along, almost dragged along by their sweaty hassled guardians across the crowded thoroughfare.
Passing Badshah, a popular snack bar just opposite New Market, the aroma of sizzling Kati Rolls and Kebabs being cooked on large hissing iron cauldrons is a sight to behold, it almost makes my mouth water. Find it almost impossible to pass the stretch as hungry denizens had leave little room near the restaurant entrance. I manage to wriggle out of the crowded pavement and take to the street, ignoring the incessant honking of cars beside. One learns to become immune to such things in the city of Kolkata...I am no different, having been born and brought up in the city. More so, being a resident of the neighborhood since birth. Edging into Madge Lane, where Globe Cinema once opened its doors, the crowds thickenand seem a shade unruly too. The lane is popularly known for junk food - puchkas, chats, noodles, ice-cream, dahi-vadas, chillas and you could name a few more. The vendors were doing brisk business and those gorging on them were one too many, mostly ladies. Glimpse dozens of young girls giggling and squealing in delight at the taste of street food. I know it is amazing, for once upon a time I too would be here on Saturday evenings to eat literally from the kiosks.. but then that was a long time ago.
A newly married young couple seem to be enjoying the fare...standing close and even feeding one another. Happens during early wedded life. Have gone through that phase when Amaya and me would spend the better part of Saturday evenings here. It would inevitably be one of those days when she would announce that she was in no mood to cook. So street junk it would be and we would always watch a movie afterwards.. remembering to carry loads of chips and eatables to give more exercise to out salivary glands. Our appetite used be incredible. Strange that now I can no longer palate street food, but fifteen years ago it was different, very different. For Saturdays would be a day to reach home early so that Amaya and I could indulge in our gamut of weekend frolics - eating out, late night movies at Globe, Lighthouse or New Empire would be such fun as multiplexes had not made their entry.
I walk homewards...reminiscing just to pass time and reminding myself that I would wake up to a Sunday without Amaya beside. Once upon a time, it was the sweetest feeling to look at her sleeping, a serene candidness scribbled all across her face on sunlit Sunday mornings. The weekends would pass with lightning rapidity then, often making us rue and wait eagerly for the next one. Now, they drag endlessly...what was once a joy is now just haunting memories of another day. The warm evening breeze ruffles my hair, teasing me with thoughts which are in essence painful..but then one gets used to chronic pains. They often play a strange game of hide and seek, but I try and ignore their haunting existence, as the www.facebook/missing varrunlights of New Market fade behind, no longer seeming as bright as they would once be a long time ago...
Having picked up a few toiletries from Blue Print, a prominent drug store on Lindsay Street, I walk towards New Market. Past seven in the evening on a Saturday, the crowd is thronging the pavements jostling the tiny makeshift kiosks selling ready made garments, leather goods and every household good worth its name. There are fruit vendors too, harking their wares and even cajoling harried housewives with the buy. At a glance the custard apples, pomegranates and melons seemed almost tempting, but I do not fancy striking a bargain for them. The shabby kiosks occupying almost half of the pavements leave little space to walk, forcing pedestrians to spill over to the streets. I pause looking at the endless queue of vehicles which stand bumper to bumper on the street. Not uncommon seeing pedestrians rushing across the road wildly waving their arms at irate drivers who are honking out of sheer impatience and frustration at the impenetrable crowds. Can see quite a few people clutching large plastic shopping bags; Puja shopping fervor is more than evident. Big ones, fat ones, thin ones.... and the children totting along, almost dragged along by their sweaty hassled guardians across the crowded thoroughfare.
Passing Badshah, a popular snack bar just opposite New Market, the aroma of sizzling Kati Rolls and Kebabs being cooked on large hissing iron cauldrons is a sight to behold, it almost makes my mouth water. Find it almost impossible to pass the stretch as hungry denizens had leave little room near the restaurant entrance. I manage to wriggle out of the crowded pavement and take to the street, ignoring the incessant honking of cars beside. One learns to become immune to such things in the city of Kolkata...I am no different, having been born and brought up in the city. More so, being a resident of the neighborhood since birth. Edging into Madge Lane, where Globe Cinema once opened its doors, the crowds thickenand seem a shade unruly too. The lane is popularly known for junk food - puchkas, chats, noodles, ice-cream, dahi-vadas, chillas and you could name a few more. The vendors were doing brisk business and those gorging on them were one too many, mostly ladies. Glimpse dozens of young girls giggling and squealing in delight at the taste of street food. I know it is amazing, for once upon a time I too would be here on Saturday evenings to eat literally from the kiosks.. but then that was a long time ago.
A newly married young couple seem to be enjoying the fare...standing close and even feeding one another. Happens during early wedded life. Have gone through that phase when Amaya and me would spend the better part of Saturday evenings here. It would inevitably be one of those days when she would announce that she was in no mood to cook. So street junk it would be and we would always watch a movie afterwards.. remembering to carry loads of chips and eatables to give more exercise to out salivary glands. Our appetite used be incredible. Strange that now I can no longer palate street food, but fifteen years ago it was different, very different. For Saturdays would be a day to reach home early so that Amaya and I could indulge in our gamut of weekend frolics - eating out, late night movies at Globe, Lighthouse or New Empire would be such fun as multiplexes had not made their entry.
I walk homewards...reminiscing just to pass time and reminding myself that I would wake up to a Sunday without Amaya beside. Once upon a time, it was the sweetest feeling to look at her sleeping, a serene candidness scribbled all across her face on sunlit Sunday mornings. The weekends would pass with lightning rapidity then, often making us rue and wait eagerly for the next one. Now, they drag endlessly...what was once a joy is now just haunting memories of another day. The warm evening breeze ruffles my hair, teasing me with thoughts which are in essence painful..but then one gets used to chronic pains. They often play a strange game of hide and seek, but I try and ignore their haunting existence, as the www.facebook/missing varrunlights of New Market fade behind, no longer seeming as bright as they would once be a long time ago...
