on 42 Circus Avenue
was a silent witness
of the bygone colonial era.

Just where the tram lines criss-crossed and went their separate ways.

Where dandies and darogas, wakeels and writers, baboos and nabobs met after their cutcherryOffice/Workplace.

And memsaabs in their corundum'sRuby/Sapphires, with kerchiefs and laced umbrellas, came in to have an Earl Grey and a fowl cutlet for a cowleCowrie or Currency or two.

In those days, Calcutta's romance with food and the bungalow were synonymous.

And all bhutbhuttis stood outside the bungalow.

Today, the bungalow's wrinkles have been dusted by the hands of time. It stands, proud, tall and beautiful in its new avatar.

While Kolkata is all set for a tryst with taste... Again!