oh, calcutta.

The best thing about Cal is that its probably the cheapest city in India.

I will MISS waiting in line to catch a 7 rupee auto. I will miss braving lethal office time crowds to catch a ride on the Metro. I'll miss clinging to the sides of an auto jam-packed with 6 people EXCLUDING the driver, hanging on for dear life; not to mention, fighting inertia in a moving bus to keep from tumbling into some poor old lady.

Not Bombay, Not Delhi, nor even Bangalore can match how pocket friendly my city is.

A bus will take you miles for under ten bucks. Autos are always swarming like bees on every route known. And my favorite, the Metro Rail, oh. I guarantee it won't cost you more than TEN rupees to go from the extreme North of Calcutta to the extreme South. A cycle rickshaw in Saltlake will probably cheat you but its still under 20 rupees, most of the time. And for those who prefer a little luxury, the minimum fare for a taxi will amount to 22 rupees, and shoot up drastically hence forth.

I will miss the bad, diluted kind of tea at 2 rs. and the decent kind at 4. I'll miss bargaining like crazy at Lindsay street as if I didn't have even 1p to spare. I'll miss pitying the gora chitta "phoreners" getting looted by our faithful team of ever-cheating hawkers. I'll miss the DELICIOUS street food that could fill you up so well and at so little that KFC and Mc'Donalds would hang their heads in shame.

The inexpensive nature of all things makes me feel so at home here it'll kill me to leave, the inborn kanjoos that I am.

I'll miss how even in the thickest and rowdiest of crowds you'll find a touch of Bengali class. I'll never forget Nandan, Shishir mancha, Rabindra Sadan and all the high class Bengali intellectuals (or Aantels, as we like to call them) swarming there, drinking tea, wearing kurtas, carrying jholas and chatting about politics, art and Satyajit Ray. I'll miss dirty, dingy Olypub, the night life at Park Street, Oxford bookstore, chocolate brownies at Flurys.

I will miss the Bengali mishtis, even though I'm not a huge fan. The rosogollas which every celebrity simply has to mention when they're in Calcutta even though they might not have even tasted one in their life.

I'll miss crossing the Laketown footbridge just to avoid the evening traffic snarl at Ultadanga.

I might even kind of miss Mamata Banerjee and her weekly Bandhs, which used to be useful during school days as a window to mid-week holidays.

And most of all, most of all I will miss Calcutta in October, the sight, smell and taste of Durga Pujo. The women in "lal paar shada saree", all-night adda at Maddox Square, the shopping, the dressing up, the dhunuchi naach, pandals and paras competing for first prize, "theme" pujas, and OH! The Dhaak! Oh, the Dhaak, how will I ever survive a Pujo without listening to a Dhaaki?

Ah, Durga Pujo. There's nothing like it. If you're a Bengali and you're not in Calcutta at the time, then get your ass back here this instant!

Because you just can't compare, and you certainly can NOT replicate the feel of the festival anywhere out of Bengal. They might try, it might be.. "fun" sometimes, but it can never come close to being the same.

Why is it that you can hate a place and take it for granted for a long, long time but when its finally time to leave, you feel like ripping your heart out? And you start thinking, Is it really that important for me to leave? Whats the point of so much studying anyway? Why not skip a year and take admission right here? And it has only been a year or two since I've truly begun to discover the flavor of this city, from knowing nothing about it other than the little during the daily ride to school in a car.

Well, leave I must. But that doesn't mean I won't be back for every single Puja. :P And when 4 years fly by in a flash, I'll be back home. Permanently. And this is where I'll stay put forever, true to my lazy Bengali blood.