Last week, after a very long fourteen-hour flight from New York to Delhi and then after a five-hour halt in Delhi, another two hours of flying, we landed in Kolkata. This is the city we grew up in, and every time we come here, it brings a deep joyful sense of homecoming.
Only problem is, this time we came in early summer, and thanks to global warming and climate change, it’s already near 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Of course, in Delhi, it was 110.
People here were literally burning out, and they were all praying for some rain. But clouds eluded them for weeks.
Yet, as soon as we arrived, Varuna the god of rain, came along. We went out for some urgent family business, and on our way back, it was a huge Nor’wester. In Bengal, we call it Kaal Baisakhi. There was torrential rain, and it soaked the parched streets and alleys of Kolkata.
It soaked the parched minds of our people too.
And as with any big cities like New York, London, or Delhi, traffic ground to a halt. We had a difficult time returning home that night. But the feeling of being drenched in rain after unbearably hot weather was so welcome and soothing that we didn’t mind that little inconvenience at all. In fact, it brought back so many sweet, precious memories from our college days when we would walk back home through a deluge of rain.
Kolkata (previously known as Calcutta), the capital city of Bengal, is famous for its food, festivals, and fun. I shall write about them as I slowly recover from this jet lag!!
Hope you are all doing well. Covid is not gone. So, please be careful.
Love,
Mukti 💖