A handful of thoughts

My India is a huge rosewood tree with several Indias sitting on its branches. One of these Indias, the India of Bengal, rises to a new year, every poila boishakh. This new year comes around the 14th or 15th of April; about the time when the sun starts baking and melting the asphalt on the road and the green mangoes dangling from the trees, start acquiring a tinge of yellow. The Bengali calendar begins with the month of Boishakh, the month of heat, of mangoes, power cuts, and thunderstorms in the afternoons. The first day of the month however, is the day of new dresses (that includes under garments, because everything single linen worn, must be new), of new accounts and sweets. For the business community it is the day of beginning of new account books. Long time customers are summoned and gifted calendars and packets of sweets; old debts are cleared and new debt cycles open.

But that’s a fast fading out picture of Bengal and now exists mostly in the suburbs. In Kolkata, Poila Boishakh is about the gaan mela, a music fest that sees the participation of many prominent singers and musicians. New clothes still stay in the agenda, and so does food. Restaurants, especially those that serve Bengali cuisine, overflow with customers. This poila boishakh too, my city has fought back the recession (apparently) in its usual mirth and valour and got busy shopping, hopping and popping on its toes and wallets.