I wanted to go to Nimtala Ghat when I went to Kolkata this time, but it was just too far. The time I went, I walked nine kilometres, exploring the sights of the city as I walked towards Nimtala. I had not even heard of Nimtala – apart from a destination I had read painted in Bangla on the maroon minibuses of the city.
I wanted to go there to experience the place again and to get a better picture more particular to Nimtala for my story Ethics on worldcitystories.com. (The deadline for the short-story competition at worldcitystories.com is drawing to a close, by the way, and there is a list of the ‘Most Read Stories’ on the site. Mine is sixth on the list! I hope to bring it further up – gentle hint for those who have not read it yet . . .)
I remember the only time I went to Nimtala.
Yes, it was just like the story in terms of its setting. In every bit of fiction there are grains of truth. The biscuit packets we bought were shiny green and the children were much more excited about the packet than the biscuits.
But the drama is a creation of my mind.
And I didn’t go there with French friends.
But what’s a little fictionalization between friends?