Winter evenings at the heart of the city: Nandan

Rosali Ghosh

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Evenings in the city of joy aren’t a time to romanticize. It is filled with people rushing from one end of the road to the other, running behind packed buses, car honks and street fights. When looked closely enough, it is difficult to find someone who isn't rushing. Its easy to find people hustling every day in my city than to find the joy it is known for. But my city has stories painted in every corner. Stories of a middle-aged man who doses off while returning home from work, stories of an old woman with a hunch on her back still struggling to survive, stories of children dancing around on the streets to earn their daily bread and stories of men who wake up every day and never give up. In this decaying, unsteady, dilapidated world where catching a break has become a luxury, I have seen people, visiting this place, searching for peace in this ailing heart of the city. 

In a chilly winter evening, when the cold winds take over the fields and we Bengalis make the best out of our winter wears, some people rush back to their homes, and some find warmth in the bosom of the city.