Whenever someone asks me the location of my home in Kharagpur, the answer I give often incites unique responses from them. The reason for that is, the name of the place in the local terminology is “Society”. Yes, that is the name. Officially named ‘Hijli Co-operative Society’, rarely is the full name used. Now that the nomenclature has been dealt with, let me tell you more about this wonderful place where my home is situated.
When you wake up in the morning and go out into the emerging daylight, your senses, especially your vision, are treated with sensations that bring to life the purity of this place. The crimson red of the morning sun rays paint the sky in the vibrant energy of a new day, but when it comes to your eyes, they are gentle and caring, as they illuminate the world around you. You can look straight at the sun and feel the hazy rays disperse in every direction through the morning dew that is still afloat in the atmosphere. Then you close your eyes, to give your other senses an equal chance to absorb the essence of this place. You take a deep breath and keep your ears open as your lungs are filled with dewy freshness and your ears are challenged by the sweet cacophony of early birds. If you are lucky, you might even catch a rare one or two sitting right there on your rooftop garden.
One of the most evident things in Society is the fertility of its soil. Wherever you look, in whichever direction, into the backyard of whichever house, you will find nature’s bounty present in its full glory, irrespective of the season. Be it the flowers of the winter, or the fruits of the summer, all of them have made their presence felt at this locality I call home. Hence it is normal practice here to share the fruitful bounties of your backyard with your neighbors. Don’t be surprised if you see a small mango or coconut orchard in someone’s home here. I personally have four coconut trees at home and my home isn’t even one of the big ones. It is this very greenery that grant us the gift of the morning freshness that we shared earlier. Not to mention the sheer joy of stealing the ripe produce of someone else’s trees and sharing it with friends under the shade of a similar tree somewhere else. Somehow it feels that these trees, who have stood the test of time and our onslaughts, have played a parental role in our upbringing.
When we were done with the mischief under the sun, we frolicked in the vast open fields in the evening. These playgrounds can be found almost every 50 metres in this society, huge open stretches, conspicuously missing grass either on a central patch or a large area overall, depending on the sport popular among its patrons. The first victory, the joy of scoring a half century, or if you were good, a century, calling all the friends and playmates from their homes, setting bushes and walls as boundaries, celebrations, rivalries which transformed to friendships instantly,
these are all some of the many memories I have of playing cricket with my friends on several such grounds. One of the most memorable things was the decision of who would bring the ball back when it went into a stranger’s house. I cant stop laughing when I think of the several incidents that happened on such occasions. There was one such house which refused to return the coscos that went into their area. As you can guess, the windowpanes of that house were not treated kindly by us. “Why?”, you may ask, and I answer, “because we had too many fields to choose from” 🙂
The one seen above is a very popular football field, which is still frequented by local kids indulging in a level of the sport that can only be seen on such unblemished grounds. Several of such fields that existed earlier have fallen prey to the growing demand of real estate in the area. In spite of that, there are more such fields in the Society than which can be filled by kids interested to play outdoors, which, sadly, is a dwindling number now.
Being brought up here since I was two years old, I cannot dare to skip describing the ‘streets of my locality’.  Except for a few stretches of pitch street here and there, most of the streets in Society are red soil streets, bordered by grass on both sides. These streets have seen me falling from my first bicycle ride, and years later, from my first bicycle stunt attempt. Everyone who has lived here, has some special memory attached to at least one of the streets apart from the one his or her home is on. Be it a hiding spot after bunking tuition, a first kiss, the first drag on a cigarette, a first driving lesson, a lonely walk home, or any other of memories that are now as innumerable as the number of stones on these roads.
Being done with the daylight, now let me venture into the domain of the night. After sundown, this place sees little or no activity. Yet, believe me, in my entire life, I have not heard a more beautiful silence. This might have something to do with the fact that most of the huge houses seen here are occupied by elderly retired people who themselves intend to enjoy the silence, although the demography is changing with time. After being away from this place for almost four years (except the occasional visits) in a city, the tranquility of this place often overwhelms me, and I find myself listening to silence and staring into the starry skies for hours. That reminds me, the skies are a sight to behold at night, filled with stars like diamond dust sprinkled in a coal mine. For me, one of the most significant memories of childhood here was lying down on the roof staring at the night sky, surrounded by my family during a load-shedding of the electricity supply. I have not given a picture of the same, because, even though I have tried for hours, I have not been able to capture the way I feel about the night here in a camera.
People who have lived here might say two things after reading this post- The first being that I have not covered many things and places. My answer to that is this is just the first post in a long series. I am pretty sure you would not think that I have only this much to say about my hometown 🙂 The second being that maybe this post was objective at times, devoid of emotions. Trust me, every single word in this post has all the emotions that I have felt while growing up in this beautiful place for 16 wonderful years. And if you still ask me, I would say that if there is a best place to grow up on the planet, it is here.
Arnab Mukherjee 