Calcutta has never been in too much hurry. The city has always had time for a cup of 'chai' or a game of football. Amidst its heart is the Maidan, which closely translates to playground in English. Maidan in Calcutta is indeed the playground, of perennial romanticism.
The long stretches of a farrago of green and yellow is the amphitheater of a leisurely stroll, the incessant hubbub of the ever passionate Bengali and the budding footballers who are invariably divided between the red-and-yellow of East Bengal to the green-and-maroon of its rival Mohunbagan. This battle is actually beyond the boundaries of a football match and into the food plates too, with half of Bengal torn between 'shorshe ilish' and 'golda chingri'. Its quite a neck-to-neck competition, I must say!
The proud Bengali has religiously satisfied its taste-buds, with 'Jhal Muri' being an all-time favorite. A delicate miscellany of puffed rice, onions, tomatoes and 'chanachur', topped with masalas, it never fails to strike a chord with the delicate taste of Calcutta and its inhabitants. The 'puchkas' too have had a special place in our hearts too, and have bore witness to innumerable sweet love stories, many of which have faded with time. Calcutta's love for food, though, hasn't!
Bicycles, a rare sight in a world run by fast cars and faster people. Maidan, though, has kept itself ignorant of the speed of the world and lives life in its own pace. The bicycles horns are still heard in plethora in this part of the city.
Being adjacent to the iconic Victoria Memorial, Maidan has a charm of its own. Its pristine beauty and laid back days have stories to tell. They say that the sun never sets in the big cities. At Maidan though, the sun sets every dusk and rises in the other part of the world, to tell the marvelous tales, long lost in the cacophony of urbanization.
