After staying in Bangalore for a year I have learnt one thing- it's the people who make up a place. Kolkata is well known for the warmth and hospitality but surely lacks the enthusiasm to get up and do something. And worst, it has a tendency to mock and make fun of those who attempt to make a change. Let us not go into the huge political or infrastructural side of Kolkata which is already screwed up- lets talk about something as light as movies. Bengali movies are still stuck at saas-bahu melodramatic love stories. People who attempt to break the mould are not accepted. The most famous example? Satyajit Ray was a big flop in his times. Oscar nominated movies in Kolkata ran for only 3-4 days in empty halls! So is it that bengalis are brainless? I don't think so- calcuttans for sure are scared of change, scared to get out of their cosy comfort- don't you find a stoppage for every improvement and I am not only talking about the zillions of bandhs Kolkata has seen.
The Kannada movie industry has evolved tremendously! I don't understand the language and maybe that is why it is so important for me to say here that the cinematography speaks for itself. The basics like screenplay, camera, cinematography- they are all so perfect these days. My kannadiga friends tell me it was not like this 10 years back. How did it evolve so much? The answer my friend gave me was simple, "The public doesn't want monotonous stuff. We wanted change, so Sandalwood changed." So, the public decides the taste! What's with Kolkata? Why cant a movie be without "good" and "bad"? Why cant characters be grey as in real life? Why do people who make realistic movies cannot make a commercially viable good film like "Mungaaru Male" or "Gaalipaata"? I am sure they are made- but they never get recognised.
We have just one Bengali radio station in Kolkata that also plays sad Bengali remakes of popular English songs! Otherwise, we are still stuck at Rabindrasangeet- why do we need to be stuck at something excellent? Why cant we aim at achieving more? Every Bangalore radio station plays Kannada songs except Radio One (only Hindi) and Radio Indigo (only English). Trust me when I say, non-Kannadigas like me tune into radio stations and listen to kannada songs!
Kolkatans, think about it, aren't we already late to get up and change? Cant we change the herd mentality? Cant we live without only doctors and engineers? There are fields that need good people- and we have them, but we are (as usual) wasting them- thanks to our ever enthusiastic parents.
"Between parents and passion if anything needs to win, it should be passion"- Chetan Bhagat.
Lets change the fate of Kolkata!
1 comment:
Well i do agree with lot of things u had to say.. the city is still slow while others are going full throttle. But then i would like you to read an editorial which i shares the views of most ex-calcuttans.
I tried to trace back the link, but couldn't so pasted the saved copy i had. sry to make ur comment box more bulky than the post :P
Hindustan times - Vir Sanghvi
Most modern Indian cities strive to rise above ethnicity. Tell anybody who lives in Bombay that he lives in a Maharashtrian city and (unless of course, you are speaking to Bal Thackeray) he will take immediate offence. We are cosmopolitan, he will say indignantly. Tell a Delhiwalla
that his is a Punjabi city (which, in many ways, it is) and he will respond with much self-righteous nonsense about being the nation's capital, about the international composition of the city's elite etc. And tell a Bangalore an that he lives in a Kannadiga city and you'll get lots of techno-gaff about the internet revolution and about how Bangalore is even more cosmopolitan than Bombay . But, the only way to understand what Calcutta is about is recognize that the city is essentially Bengali. What's more, no Bengali minds you saying that. Rather, he is proud of the fact. Calcutta's strengths and weaknesses mirror those of the Bengali character. It has the drawbacks: the sudden passions, the cheerful chaos, the utter contempt for mere commerce, the fiery response to the smallest provocation. And it has the strengths (actually, I think of the drawbacks as strengths in their own way). Calcutta embodies the Bengali love of culture; the triumph of intellectualism over greed; the complete transparency of all emotions, the disdain with which hypocrisy and insincerity are treated; the warmth of genuine humanity; and the supremacy of emotion over all other aspects of human existence. That's why Calcutta is not for everyone. You want your cities clean and green; stick to Delhi. You want your cities, rich and impersonal; go to Bombay. You want them high-tech and full of draught beer; Bangalore
's your place. But if you want a city with a soul: come to Calcutta. When I look back on the years I've spent in Calcutta - and I come back so many times each year that I often feel I've never been away - I don't remember the things that people remember about cities. When I think of London , I think of the vast open spaces of Hyde Park . When I think of NewYork, I think of the frenzy of Times Square . When I think of Tokyo , I think of the bright lights of Shinjiku.
And when I think of Paris , I think of the Champs Elysee. But when I think of Calcutta , I never think of any one place. I don't focus on the greenery of the maidan, the beauty of the Victoria Memorial, the bustle of Burra Bazar or the splendour of the new Howrah Bridge . I think of
people. Because, finally, a city is more than bricks and mortars, street lights and tarred roads. A city is the sum of its people. And who can ever forget or replicate – the people of Calcutta ?
When I first came to live here, I was told that the city would grow on me. What nobody told me was that the city would change my life. It was in Calcutta that I learnt about true warmth; about simple human decency; about love and friendship; about emotions and caring; about truth and
honesty. I learnt other things too. Coming from Bombay as I did, it was a revelation to live in a city where people judged each other on the things that really mattered; where they recognized that being rich did not make you a better person - in fact, it might have the opposite effect. I learnt also that if life is about more than just money, it is about the things that other cities ignore; about culture, about ideas, about art, and about passion. In Bombay , a man with a relatively low income will salt some of it away for the day when he gets a stock market tip. In Calcutta , a man with exactly the same income will not know the difference between a debenture and a dividend. But he will spend his money on the things that matter. Each morning, he will read at least two newspapers and develop sharply etched views on the state of the world. Each evening, there will be fresh (ideally, fresh-water or river) fish on his table. His children will be encouraged to learn to dance or sing. His family will appreciate the power of poetry And for him, religion and culture will be in inextricably bound together. Ah religion! Tell outsiders about the importance of Puja in Calcutta and they'll scoff. Don't be silly, they'll say. Puja is a religious festival. And Bengal has voted for the CPM since 1977. How can godless Bengal be so hung up on a religions festival? I never know how to explain them that to a Bengali, religion
consists of much more than shouting Jai Shri Ram or pulling down somebody's mosque. It has little to do with meaningless ritual or sinister political activity. The essence of Puja is that all the passions of Bengal converge: emotion, culture, the love of life, the warmth of being together, the joy of celebration, the pride in artistic expression and yes, the cult of the goddess. It may be about religion. But is about much more than just worship. In which other part of India would small, not particularly well-off localities, vie with each other to produce the best pandals? Where else could puja pandals go beyond religion to draw inspiration from everything else? In the years I lived in Calcutta , the pandals featured Amitabh Bachchan, Princess Diana and even Saddam Hussain! Where else would children cry with the sheer emotional power of Dashami, upset that the Goddess had left their homes? Where else would the whole city gooseflesh when the dhakis first begin to beat their drums? Which other Indian festival – in any part of the country - is so much about food, about going from one roadside stall to another, following your nose as it trails the smells of cooking? To understand Puja, you must understand Calcutta . And to understand Calcutta , you must understand the Bengali. It's not easy. Certainly, you can't do it till you come and live here, till you let Calcutta suffuse your being, invade your bloodstream and steal your soul. But once you have, you'll love Calcutta forever. Wherever you go, a bit of Calcutta will go with you. I know, because it's happened to me. And every Puja, I am overcome by the magic of Bengal. It's a feeling that'll never go away.
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