The City of Joy, really?

Wednesday 21^st May 2014

Flying into Varanasi this evening as the sun set over the broad curves of the Ganges and its vast plains was quite a sight to behold. It was also a great relief to be leaving Kolkata. Don’t get me wrong, the city has a fascinating history and some beautiful sights, but so many drawbacks that I’ll be in no hurry to return. It’s known as the ‘City of Joy’. I don’t know how old this nickname is, but it certainly seems outdated. Kolkata, or Calcutta as it used to be known, is one of India’s great urban centres. It was the capital of the British Raj before the move to New Delhi, and perhaps once the greatest colonial city of the Orient, with traders flocking from across the east in the past, contributing to its cosmopolitan population. However, since Independence and various events throughout the twentieth century, huge numbers of migrants and refugees have pushed the city and its infrastructure to its limits, resulting in widespread, extreme poverty, horrendous traffic, and terrible pollution. The climate at this time of year was also extremely unpleasant.

   Still, I did venture out as much as possible during my few days in Kolkata, in order to admire its array of beautiful (if mostly crumbling) Victorian architecture, and experience its hectic atmosphere. My first stop were the ghats along the Hooghly River near the mighty Howrah Bridge (the world’s third longest cantilever bridge at 705m). I wasn’t sure what to expect exactly, but apart from great views of the bridge, all that I encountered were slums, rubbish, and people bathing in the filthy river. I didn’t know where to look, or how to react exactly. Standing there with a camera snapping away pictures of the bridge while children openly defecated into the river a few metres away. I must have looked quite ridiculous.

Howrah Bridge.

   After dragging my feet through the old city (and the humidity), admiring the grand edifices that once contained the administrations and businesses that made this bastion of imperialism tick, I visited perhaps the most spectacular colonial edifice in the city and Kolkata’s pride and joy: the Victoria Memorial.  The extraordinary white marble structure was conceived by Lord Curzon and finished in 1921. It’s set in beautiful gardens, which include ponds and shady gravel paths – it’s actually rather green and lush, for an Indian park. The museum inside contains various momentoes of British Imperialism, as well as some fascinating paintings, documents and photographs about life in the city and the Independence struggle.

Victoria Memorial.

   Just across the road is St. Paul’s Cathedral, built in 1847. The Gothic structure is quite beautiful, and contains a lovely window by Sir Edward Burne-Jones. Sadly, I wasn’t allowed to take any pictures, and the nave was closed to visitors.

   Of course, I need to mention food. The weather in Calcutta really killed my appetite, but I did take advantage of the fact that there is a large Chinatown, where I had some delicious dishes. Before I forget, something I did love about Kolkata: the taxis. They’re all bright yellow Hindustan Ambassadors, and very cheap. The roads are basically streams of yellow – fantastic.

Calcutta cab ride.

   Next up was the Indian Museum. Billed as India’s oldest and largest museum, designed by an Italian architect and built in 1814, I was expecting something impressive. I was very much disappointed. There were a few ‘nice’ galleries of textiles and archaeological finds, but it was mostly just big, old, and very dusty cases of all-very-grey-and-the-same-looking fossils, in stuffy, dingy galleries. The zoological displays were simply terrible, with most of the specimens looking older than the museum itself. The marine dioramas were particularly giggle-inducing, with their discoloured googly-eyed stuffed fish pinned to blue walls, ‘swimming’ with bemused expressions on their faces.

The impressive Indian Museum...

...and its not-so-impressive zoological collection.

   For me, Kolkata was a little disappointing. Maybe I need to experience it during the winter, or with a local, but still, I think something needs to be done about its over-stressed urban infrastructure and extreme poverty before it can become the glorious metropolis that it has the potential to be.