In the alleys where history whispers, and Ganges whispers low,
Kolkata, a symphony of chaos, where stories ebb and flow.
Trams rumble, horns blare, a million dreams collide,
Spicy scents and incense trails, on every bustling tide.
Victoria’s ghost in fading grandeur, colonial echoes dim,
But poets’ verses come alive, with Tagore’s soulful hymn.
Sunlight paints the Hooghly gold, Howrah Bridge a stoic gaze,
While chai at dawn unfolds its warmth, in milky, sunlit haze.
Ma Durga’s eyes with passion gleam, during puja’s vibrant beat,
As laughter fills the Marwari gali, and sweets perfume the street.
From Kumartuli’s idol hearts, to artisans’ skilled hands,
Each weathered step unfolds a tale, across the shifting sands.
Kolkata, a paradox, where beauty meets decay,
But hope survives in every heart, and daw
ns a brand new day.
