Ghettu's Blog

The sky is the part of creation which nature has done for the sake of pleasing man. The sky is the source of light in nature – and governs everything. If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields, has the power to move you, if the simple things of Nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive.

Haldia is an industrial port city in East Midnapore in the Indian state of West Bengal. It is a major river port and industrial belt located approximately southwest of Kolkata near the mouth of the Hooghly River, one of the distributaries of the Ganges.

However, to me, this very small and naïve city means a lot beyond than mere geographical specifications. I wasn’t born in Haldia, was but definitely brought up in Haldia. A small quarter in Haldia has been my residence and my safest shelter for the 16 most crucial years of my life. But I very staunchly believe that a home is not just a mere transient shelter; it’s essence lies in the personalities of the people who live in it. So, this small quarter in Haldia will always play a big role in shaping me into the future gem of a person I wish to be.

Honestly speaking, Haldia has always been one of the shabbiest and dullest places to me. After having spent a lot of time in the City of Joy, returning to Haldia was my worst nightmare. The rustic culture and lacking vibrance made me smother and yearn for Kolkata’s fresh air.

However, as my period of stay in this very small, unadorned and unembellished city has almost come to an end, I have realised with time and precision that when nature exceeds culture, we have the rustic. Haldia, full of greenery, will invariably be a treat to the eyes for dendrophiles. The quiet rhythmic monotone of the wall of logs fills one with the rustic peace of a secluded nook in the woods.

Haldia is almost devoid of major tourist attractions, except for a few. Me topping the list of the most indolent, sluggish and slothful people that can ever exist, have hardly been out of house an ascertainable number of times. However, the view out of the shackle-like grills of the window was enthralling. I, being a reflective and contemplative person, could spend my whole day sitting by the window, watching bees blowing like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and diamond dust taking over which veiled and yet magnified all things.

The air of Haldia is heavy with the essence of my growing up, the dust on the roads, the ripple of the rivers speak of my mischief and every particle of dust on the roads silently tell me, “Burn, if you must; but rise from the dust”. In just a few months’ time, I will be prepared to move out of this small, shielding and preservating place to face the bigger and harsher world. Haldia may fade away from my mind temporarily; but will always occupy a very special place in the deepest corner of my heart.

We all have our time machines. Some take us backward, they are called memories; and some take us forward; they are called dreams. Walking towards dreams can take us farther from our memories but I believe this is how memories are made; by going with the flow. The actual richness of life lies in the memories that are forgotten. True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories. Last morning, sipping a cup of warm Darjeeling tea with my mother, sitting by the window, we were staring at the sky outside. My mother suddenly asked me to caption the scenery. Looking at the clear white sky partially covered with stout, towering, viridescent trees; filling my eyes with glimpses of pure bliss; the only thing that struck my mind was; “The sky is green here”.