Hometown

In November 2016, I finally got my only chance to document my native home in Calcutta.

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Collapsible gates to the garage which once sheltered two cars

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The characteristic yellow with the common Calcutta green lines compensated the cuboidal structure of the house.

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A bathroom placed outside the house.

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As all old houses do, this one features a large backyard too.

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Spacious balcony terrace which has always been a space for commonly drying laundry, big gatherings during events, and for dry leaves and moss now.

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Simple decor railings and worn out wooden doors.

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Small balconies attached to every room on the top floor which faced the road made primary facade of the house.

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The color palette and textures that remain distinct over the years.

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Orthogonal lines and staircase on the inside.

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The main living and dining area of the house.

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The kitchen which is strategically partitioned for vegetarian, non-vegetarian, and God.

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Only God related vessels allowed here.

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The living and study room.

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My grandparents’ bedroom.

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Almost every room owned a table and a chair which is a rarity in most houses today.

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Simple spaced rooms.

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Iconic rings which served as window knobs.

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Infested with cobwebs, such windows are classic to Calcutta in general and this house too.

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Caging bar window grills layered with rust are my earliest memories of this place.

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The garage which blew its shed and only homes trash now.

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Flora of the house showcased trees like banana, Indian bael (aka Bengal quince), and Mangoes!

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While the fauna included cats, rats, few snakes, and a scourge of mosquitoes.

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For time has only set this house to creep into rust.

Images Copyright © 2016 Ankit Banerjee. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use or reproduction for any reason is prohibited.

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Discovery: a cherished childhood experience.

To and fro, everything around me kept moving. I don’t know whether it was the motion blurry sight, or just the funny feelings in my stomach that made me so happy. Or maybe it was just the air hitting my face repeatedly, waving through my long bowl-cut hair that made childhood blissful. It took time to learn how to push myself— the crazy torso movement to imaginary leg acceleration. But the best was yet to come—jumping off right when it was on the top. The leap from that height was so exhilarating that soon after I landed, I rushed into another round.

Now, every time I pass by a vacant plank held by chains, I can hear it calling me.