For me, and many like me scattered all over the world, Christmas will always be spelt Calcutta.<\/p>\n
The Calcutta I knew and loved embodied the spirit of the Yuletide season which, like the mellow December sunlight, seemed to seep into the houses and streets so that the city appeared to glow with a borrowed radiance.<\/p>\n
From the mazy lanes behind Ripon Street and Elliot Road rose an aroma of cakes, each made to an Anglo-Indian recipe as prized as a family heirloom, given to be baked by Muslim bakeries, and to be eaten as an ecumenical prasad by Christians, Hindus, and atheist Marxists alike.<\/p>\n
Read full opinion on TOI+<\/p>\n
Views expressed above are the author's own.<\/p>\n
END OF ARTICLE <\/p>\n
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Go here to see the original: <\/p>\n
Christmas city: Calcutta, the City of Joy, was never more joyous than in the Yuletide season - The Times of India Blog<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" For me, and many like me scattered all over the world, Christmas will always be spelt Calcutta. The Calcutta I knew and loved embodied the spirit of the Yuletide season which, like the mellow December sunlight, seemed to seep into the houses and streets so that the city appeared to glow with a borrowed radiance. From the mazy lanes behind Ripon Street and Elliot Road rose an aroma of cakes, each made to an Anglo-Indian recipe as prized as a family heirloom, given to be baked by Muslim bakeries, and to be eaten as an ecumenical prasad by Christians, Hindus, and atheist Marxists alike. Continue reading