Papun opened the large mesh doors to the pigeon cage on the terrace throwing bird seeds on the concrete floor, setting a flurry among the gurgling pigeons scrambling for the choicest grains. Madho and Paro was a delightful pair. They were both accomplished in races. Madho was a distance specialist and could fly from Kolkata to Delhi and back. Paro was a racer and could fly a mile, a minute.
Maya squeezed her way through the sweaty passengers, deftly moving to the back of the bus on Route L14B. The busy streets were winding down as it hid passers by in a thin blanket of charcoal smoke wafting up slowly from the roadside vendors selling forbidden delicacies ranging from roasted corn brushed with lime, to deep fried aloo chops and begunis.
Colonel D’Cruz glanced at the large blue dial of his HMT wrist watch and bellowed impatiently, “ I don’t want anybody to be late. Mishka, get that dal paste off your face,and why does your mom look like she has jaundice with crushed orange peel smeared all over her arms ?” A little silence, then Mishka purred, “ I am not going, I have a bad headache”.
Baloo the peasant’s son had a powerful arm. He trudged off to the fields every morning to till the earth while it was still soft and smelt fresh. The morning fog danced in the pre dawn glare of firewoods crackling merrily at the sooty kettle. Even the rooster had its head tucked in its warm breast, while a few cows lashed its tails at the large mosquitoes circling its rump like Somali pirates.
Dum Dum airport, as the locals know it, gateway to Kolkata, The City of Joy. The connecting Airbus from Bangkok steadied itself for landing, rocking gently in the dark sky like an intoxicated butterfly. My legs were weary, it was the last leg of a long journey from SFO bringing me home to a city which taught me how to dream.
Happy Independence Day, friends. But independence from what ? Regimes fall, yet individuals remain trapped in makings of their own. True, self determination of a nation is necessary for the self determination of an individual. The conquerers have sailed away long ago yet why do we still carry the baggage of submission ?
Papun opened the large mesh doors to the pigeon cage on the terrace throwing bird seeds on the concrete floor, setting a flurry among the gurgling pigeons scrambling for the choicest grains. Madho and Paro was a delightful pair. They were both accomplished in races. Madho was a distance specialist and could fly from Kolkata to Delhi and back. Paro was a racer and could fly a mile, a minute.
Maya squeezed her way through the sweaty passengers, deftly moving to the back of the bus on Route L14B. The busy streets were winding down as it hid passers by in a thin blanket of charcoal smoke wafting up slowly from the roadside vendors selling forbidden delicacies ranging from roasted corn brushed with lime, to deep fried aloo chops and begunis.
Colonel D’Cruz glanced at the large blue dial of his HMT wrist watch and bellowed impatiently, “ I don’t want anybody to be late. Mishka, get that dal paste off your face,and why does your mom look like she has jaundice with crushed orange peel smeared all over her arms ?” A little silence, then Mishka purred, “ I am not going, I have a bad headache”.
Baloo the peasant’s son had a powerful arm. He trudged off to the fields every morning to till the earth while it was still soft and smelt fresh. The morning fog danced in the pre dawn glare of firewoods crackling merrily at the sooty kettle. Even the rooster had its head tucked in its warm breast, while a few cows lashed its tails at the large mosquitoes circling its rump like Somali pirates.
Dum Dum airport, as the locals know it, gateway to Kolkata, The City of Joy. The connecting Airbus from Bangkok steadied itself for landing, rocking gently in the dark sky like an intoxicated butterfly. My legs were weary, it was the last leg of a long journey from SFO bringing me home to a city which taught me how to dream.
Happy Independence Day, friends. But independence from what ? Regimes fall, yet individuals remain trapped in makings of their own. True, self determination of a nation is necessary for the self determination of an individual. The conquerers have sailed away long ago yet why do we still carry the baggage of submission ?
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