A Poem for Kolkata

What are you, Kolkata ? Are you the melange of pedestrians, rickshaws, men walking with wares on their heads, cars and buses honking like chattering birds at dawn? “Safe drive. save lives.” Are you dog faeces and rotting trash, wafts of spices and urine and sweat and milk tea intermingling? Are you the vegetable vendors, half-dressed men, women in bright saris, brown men with orange beards, men bathing streetside from public water spigots? Are you those tired trees or exposed electrical wires draped like silly string? What are you, Kolkata ? Are you the Street children of Anondo, loved and supported by a bright light named Gitangeli? Are you duck duck goose, gobady, dodgeball and 500! found with new-found different-but-same friends? Pictures. Pictures. Pictures. Are you the bright orange, red, green, and yellow of Holi smeared and tossed in laughter while onlookers gawk? “happy Holi, auntie!” What are you, Kolkata? Are you the poor but loved and happy scholars of Future Hope proudly showing us their school rooms, eagerly holding our hands, smiling, hugging us, dancing for and with us, painting Beauty onto our skin? “S T O P stop!” Are you football and rugby and races at the dusty, hot Maidon? Are you the crazy wind snatching the Interim sign as I try again and again to toss it to laughing Dragons poised for our video? What are you, Kolkata? Are you the Missionaries of Charity, mother Theresa’s loving legacy serving the poorest of the poor? Are you the powerful energy emanating from her tomb? Six AM mass, milk tea, banana and white bread? Are you Sister Mary Mercy, David from Nigeria or Dawn from Canada or countless other pilgrims? “We miss you miss you miss you from our hearts!” What are you, Kolkata? Are you the girls at Shanti Dan, misshapen bodies with souls shining through their eyes? Giggling Sonia, bright-eyed Pinky, Hand-holding Sheila. “slow ...slow...slow...fast!” Are you dirty laundry, washing laundry, wringing laundry, hauling laundry, drying laundry, folding laundry? Are you the scowling then smiling Massis? “These are good girls!” What are you, Kolkata? Are you bus rides with tired, joyous juniors? “Who wants water?” three generous brothers, Nizam, Mohin and Farid? Are you Badla, the “best movie ever!”, BBQ Nation, Peter Cat? Are you mediations, one-word check-ins, journals, and sharing sessions on the sixth floor in which we discover our truest Selves once again? “May you be well. May you be safe. May you be happy. May you be peaceful. May you be loved.” Or are you simply me and I you?