In the front portico, several cousins assembled around Wall Street banker Ronti’s Blackberry and marveled. As I joined them, eyes darted to me. “You probably have one of these?” “Sure, I have a Treo,” I replied, my eyes glazing over the Blackberry, to focus on the marble staircase on which, at four, I fell and
Our family, miraculously, still holds the old property pretty much intact. The partition suit continues, providing the building itself a temporary protection. Meanwhile the real estate boom in India marches on around it, with the house sitting there, frightened, like an old bride of Bengal at the mercy of the patriarchs. On my recent trip,
The face of Calcutta is degenerating fast. Droves of glittering shopping malls welcome young Calcuttans – since among other things India is also importing Retail Therapy. A new credit card industry booms. The expanding middle class rejoices in the sudden Western availability of product after product after product. Satya Paul saris and Giorgio Armani jackets
Until a few decades ago, most Bengali homes housed joint families. Our homestead on Elgin Road comfortably housed some 15 family members and another 15 servants. Sunday dinners crammed twenty around a table littered with round-puffy-golden luchis, rich-red goat curry, and an opulent choice of Sandesh and Rasogolla desserts. The children eating as fast as
Such is the destiny of developing nations. The same routine runs from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. It runs in Mexico, in China. It runs in Brazil, and in Romania. Darjeeling, the erstwhile Queen of the Himalayas, once enchanted with pine-lined walks strung from house to house. Today, it flashes neon signs to welcome tourists. In the
The past always recedes. Sensible people do not let that be bothersome. The old steps aside for the new and so it should. Yet, looking out the car window driving through India these days, I am stricken by the pace and brutality of this transition. Chowringhee, Calcutta’s once impressive Paris-esque boulevard, is now layered in
My family is old Calcutta. We had rice paddy fields that greened as monsoon washed over them. Heavy-limbed mango orchards bearing the juiciest and most fragrant varietals. Homesteads. A home nestled in my grandfather’s legendary rose garden in the now traumatized Bengal-Bihar border. Our relatives’ houses dotted Calcutta. These old houses in the alleys of
Real Estate in Bangalore, Mumbai, Delhi are all too expensive. The IT/ITES industry scaling needs to happen elsewhere: :: Kolkata is gradually undergoing a transformation which will have a long term impact on the city and its future growth. Earlier, Dalhousie Square (BBD Bag) gave way to Park Street, Chowringhee Road and Camac Street, as