Kolkata

Can you hear me? I hum with the clang-clang-clang of the tram cars and the cheerful beep-beep of yellow taxis. I sit beside the gentle Hooghly River, watching boats drift by. If you walk along my streets, you can smell sweet mishti doi and spicy puchkas being made for hungry visitors. I am a place where stories are told in books, in songs, and on the stage. My heart is full of art and my spirit is full of celebration. I am a city of art, stories, and festivals. My name is Kolkata, and people call me the City of Joy.

I wasn't always a big, busy city. A very long time ago, I was just three small villages resting by the river. Life was quiet then. But one day, a man from England named Job Charnock came sailing down the river. He worked for a group called the British East India Company, who were looking for a good place to trade. On August 24th, 1690, he decided my riverbank was the perfect spot. He set up a trading post, and slowly, more and more people came. My three little villages started to grow and grow, until they all joined together to become one big, important place. In the year 1772, I became a very special city indeed. I was chosen to be the capital of British India. That meant all the important leaders came here to make big decisions for the whole country.

Being the capital was a grand time for me. I wanted to look as important as I was, so beautiful buildings started popping up all over. The most magnificent one of all is my Victoria Memorial. It looks like a great white marble palace with a lovely garden all around it. It was finished in the year 1921, and it was built to remember a very famous queen named Queen Victoria. During these years, many wonderful and creative people lived here. One of them was a famous poet named Rabindranath Tagore, who wrote beautiful poems and songs that people still love today. In the year 1911, the leaders decided to move the capital to a different city called Delhi. But I wasn't sad. I knew I was still a special place, a vibrant center for art, culture, and learning.

For many years, people called me by the name Calcutta. But I always remembered my older, more traditional name. On January 1st, 2001, I officially changed my name back to Kolkata. Today, my heart beats stronger than ever. My old trams still clang along the streets, and my yellow taxis still zip around corners. Every year, I burst with light and color for the Durga Puja festival, where artists make incredible statues and everyone celebrates together. And of course, my delicious food makes everyone happy. I am a city that loves to think, create, and celebrate. I welcome everyone to share in my joy and discover the new stories being written on my streets every single day.