Cholonto Kolikata (Calcutta on the Move) was published posthumously by Visva Bharati, in a collection of published and unpublished poems by Tagore called Chitra Bichitra (Picturesque Potpouri) in 1954.
CALCUTTA ON THE MOVE
Wearing a headgear of bricks
The immovable town
Of Calcutta sits
On a mat of concrete.
The spring breeze
Cannot move it.
Its foundation stays firm
When April storms rage.
Winter winds cannot make
Its pillars shiver.
Winter- spring pass through
Without bothering its equanimity.
Long ago,
I’d had a dream…
Suddenly, my Binu
Shouted out,
“Look. See.” I ran
Leaving my bed —
Calcutta was walking,
Moving its cemented body.
The sky seemed to be riding
On the shoulders
Of High and low roofs,
Roofs with walls,
The roads and lanes slithered
Like snakes.
Trams on their backs
Moved unsteadily.
Shops and bazaars swayed
Like ferries during a storm.
The field at Chowrongi seemed
To be moving off.
Monuments were swinging
Left and right,
Like crazed elephants’ trunks,
Almost toppling.
Schoolboys were all
Creating a hullabaloo.
Their maths books were dancing,
Grammar books too.
Their English textbooks were rollocking
On the floor like snakes
That had grown avian
Fluttering wings.
The bell swung and rang —
Ding- dong, ding- dong.
The day passed by
But it wouldn’t stop.
In the kitchen,
The maid cried and said,
“The pumpkin and gourd run about.
What should I do?”
Thousands of people screamed,
“Oh, please stop. Stop.
How can we go anywhere?
What kind of madness is this? “
“Oh, where does it go?”
The Howrah Bridge said,
“If I swing some more,
I’ll fall into the water.”
Everyone from the big bazaar,
The fish bazaar to Chinatown,
Hailed and said,
“Stay steady. Don’t move.”
I thought, let it go,
There’s no need to worry.
Calcutta could go to Delhi
Or, to Bombay.
There was a noise.
I suddenly woke up.
When I looked around,
Calcutta was still in Calcutta.
This poem has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input by Sohana Manzoor.
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