Autumn

I am not given to undue inspiration. Yet when the air is thick with mist and mellow fruitfulness and the sun is mild with its silvery spread, my city, Kolkata becomes vibrant with sound of the trumpets, smoke of the incense sticks and religious fervour. Somewhere an entire city loses itself into all that and autumn comes alive to me. Yes, it seems to me autumn has its meaning in Kolkata. For a fact, I know this is incorrect, but nevertheless in my mind, the season is there in me lying in my bed in Kolkata, reading durga puja special magazines and then there are apparel shop owners haggling with the customers, and there is me in Kolkata again, in one of our numerous ‘adda’ sessions.

Autumn used to bring with it a lot more than this. It used to be about clear blue sky, potted flowers such as dahlia, zinnia; long walks in the afternoon, futile philosophising, barred clouds blooming the soft-dying day, song of hedge-crickets, lazy chilly evenings with friends. It was also about hot steaming biryanis, succulent mutton curry and fancy fried fish. It was sort of characterised with a feeling of numbness that seeped into pretty much everything that gave a brief respite from our anxious existences. It would fill our days with a sense of calm and humility, a sense of ‘divinity’, a feeling that there is a power higher than us.

Then there is the cultural aspect of the city that is almost infectious. It kind of presents an alternative, deeper way of life to the people bogged down by uncertainties of everyday life. The staged plays, bengali songs, dance takes one deep into the core of the city’s being and uplifts the spirit. Its lends a character to the poor international city. And it seems the city is not in urgent need of any charity.

The thing that I began to learn from autumn in Kolkata is the utmost need for celebration in life. I learnt the important of seeking happiness at subliminal level to enjoy the true essence of our short lives.

ENDS