Arnab felt a strange pull followed by discomfort within himself, after speaking to Sreemoi. The deeply buried past came dancing in front of his eyeballs. He kept wondering, is it the affection for Sreemoi he once had or his formative years of growing up in the city of Joy, ‘ Kolkata”. Creating a massive home with a green card was his childhood dream. Greed is like watching porn, one wants to watch and at the same has the urge to blast an orgasm. He desired skyscrapers of New York City with the Jhal Mudi wala dada on the lungs suffocating dusty roads.
Eventually, he landed while trying to unpack the sealed Bengali in his subconscious. It was not the Kolkata he left years ago. It took a long time for his eyes to absorb the concrete lego spread out all over Kolkata, the flashy cars, racing cabs, loud honks, the blue lights draped all over the street lights and the erratic vibes of the city. His intrigued soul kept trying to reconnect where he left the city. The driver Hari Singh, could easily seep through him as a sapling uprooted from this city. After a while, Arnob, blurted, ” How much time will it take to reach the hotel? ” Hari Singh’s replied, ” Sir, depends on the traffic, but at least another 40 minutes.” Arnob, insisted, ” Please drive fast”.
He barely looked at the hotel room and darted the Bara Bazaar. The sleek alleys of Bara Bazar had a life splurging in every corner. The Chai freshly brewed got mixed in the air, to further get into the air molecules of sizzling pakoras. He trodded a few steps ahead and the air changed with the add-on tampering of a stink of micturating, which went like a wild bull coming from a spot marked on the corner wall from rickshawala to the traffic policemen emptying their bladder. To some, it may sound like the most obnoxious display but for some, it’s where life thrives. He took a deep breath and quietly saw the pan wala with fleeting eyes, the shop he brought his first cigarette packet followed by a bashing at home.
He rushed to Park Street as someone was waiting for him at Trincas. But the real reason was waiting for him at Trinca’s draped in red with the most intrigued eyes. They both looked at each other and couldn’t believe its been more than two decades. Arnab kept all his demands on the table, ” I want to eat phuchka, chicken roll, biriyani, mustard fish and phirni”. Srimoyee kept looking for love in his eyes. After a deep breath, she said to herself with a silent sigh ” If not love…At least lust!!!”. But she could only see a desperate foodie with the most voracious taste buds, like a true Bengali”.
Let’s go and have some phuchka, She ushered him…