My Cradle - Allahabad

Today 7th Oct - the day when I was born into this world in midst of annual festivities that every Bengali house celebrates every year. My parents had lost their 12 year old daughter just a year and half back after fighting a long 5 years battle with leukemia - to hold me in their hands was a moment of joy and sadness. Allahabad, the Sangam city - my birthplace - in my childhood days known for its broad avenues, picturesque British era bungalows, Gothic style churches, the overly congested Chowk area - and of course the colossal Allahabad fort at the banks of Sangam. Allahabad - "Abode of Allah", the name given by the illustrious Mogul Emperor Akbar, is situated at the confluence of Ganges, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati, is an important pilgrimage for devout Hindus. Also known as Prayag, it is the host to one of world's largest ablution event of the world - the Kumbh Mela, held once in 12 years. The reference point for Indian Standard time, Allahabad also boasts to have one of oldest High Court and the fourth oldest University in Republic of India. Great writers and poets of Hindi literature have lived here and have been inspired by this city. It is the home to India's first political family, given 7 out of 17 Prime Ministers to the country. Today - this city is becoming a forgotten city with a glorious past. Colonial Allahabad, along with the intellectual energy that the city once generated, has quite disappeared. The bungalows have been going, all my acquaintances from my parents generation have moved out, my friends with whom I spent some wonderful days have migrated to different cities for greener pastures - 8A Hastings Road my birthplace, was a typical bungalow from the colonial era - today it still stands dilapidated waiting to be grazed to the ground soon to be replaced by apartments of the modern society - As I walk down memory lanes - I have just lost time to recall - nothing more than that. Dad re-located to Jaipur 2 years after my birth, but we returned to the city when I was in Grade IXth. I lived in this city till I graduated from the university. I still keep going back to this city probably once a year, a city which I still call "my home". I have a strange feeling of nostalgia whenever I visit Allahabad. The Ganges attracts me, it gives a lot of calm and repose when I stand at its banks. Though I do not believe in taking a dip to wash my sins as commonly believed by a devout Hindu - but standing at the confluence, gives me a feeling of tranquility, it works as a sedate for me. The last time I visited the city was in Oct 2006 - it is almost 3 years now - every time I am in the city - I go for a stroll down my favourite road - Thornhill Road, a road which always unleashes memories both sweet & bitter for me - brings back so many events, fun filled long summer days, dull winter evenings - plucking delicious guavas from roadside & of course some very special people - not to miss out that this was the road when I was first proposed on a Valentine's day - the teenage infatuation which had evaporated as fast as it had grown - I am also reminded of that unfortunate afternoon when we were returning home from school - one of my classmates was crushed to death (it was one of the saddest days of my life) - this is the road where I advanced from a bicycle to a scooter to a car - this road always serves as an instant reminder of those days which will never return but will always bring a smile on my face. It is many years since I have left the city - the city has degenerated considerably over the years, it has lost touch with its rich past of glory. As I walk down the roads - poverty around me leaves me sad. India is a poor country, but after staying in rich states of Maharastra and Karnataka, we get a delusion that India is growing. The impact of globalization is perhaps positive..but it is a conclusion that many Indians make without going thru facts - when I see people in Allahabad, I feel miserable. A reasonably good pay package that I earn - stands meaningless when I see a homeless man enduring the variation of weather that mother nature offers in my hometown - a high of 48 degrees to a low of freezing temperature. I wish I could do something - someday for my city where I was born, which I still call my home - i am not sure whether I would really be able to do something - but I wish I could..in memory of those beautiful days that this city offered when i was becoming a woman from a teenage girl.