Those old nail paints, those worn out jeans, messed up hair I am still there, watching how the dreams changed to nightmares. How the innocent grin gradually faded in this fake city. City which seems to be so happy itself, keeping each one happy and one losing his own self.
Illusions, traps of fake happiness, each one is a victim of such trash every day. It is a new life for some, end for some other. Making new records of endless pain, broken hearts and left over dreams lost and broken. Lost in the high volumes of music, those unending rush to win the race of success, yet making new moves each day, a new hope.
“City of joy”, you create a new awe in the mind of people, in spite of all the illusions you teach to live life up. A never ending hope to stand up straight again to say “I am still not over, I’ll fight back”. A year ago, this was more like a city which looked so glamorous yet like a monster to a child some distance away. Today, this is so much of an own city, a new hope of life.
You gave me the unkind memories yet been kind enough to make me a bit more mature, a lot more experienced. Over the few years you make me your own, a strange attachment, an unsaid bonding which is enough to give a different place in my heart for you. Oh yes! You knocked me down and you pulled me up. Over the years you just made me who I am. Yes, I love being a part of you, yet I hate you but above all this ignoring you is impossible. With a fear, a strange awkwardness became a part of you and you made me your own forever. I owe you such a lot. I know I do and so I promise to come back. In the course of time will repay you all. Yes, Kolkata you make me feel so.
