Every city in the world has its own signature style and
heritage. Calcutta is a fascinating name on that list because of its
chameleon-like appearance. Explore the alleyways of North Calcutta; you will
see the face of an ancient lady still clutching on to the glory of her bygone
days. Go to Park Street; you will get to wine and dine with an elite person full of snob aristocracy despite the
outbreak of Communist tomfoolery that once tried to stifle her extravaganza. South Calcutta –
that very beautifully made-up lady with an air of indifference; she will break your heart I'm telling you. Sealdah –
middle class working woman who has no time for your bullshit. Then comes this
one place which is neither north nor south, but falls right in between. The heart
of Calcutta. Dalhousie. Long before the birth of corporate culture or New Town
(an ugly hybrid piece of crap) when there were only government offices and
smalltime private enterprises, Dalhousie used to be the office hub of Calcutta.
It still is, but not exactly like before. People of our generation will not
exactly feel one with the crowd that still bustles around Writer’s Building and
Laal Dighi.
On one rainy afternoon in 2016 my friend and I had first discovered that
there were three (!) synagogues hidden within the maze of our very own madhouse
named Calcutta. And all three of them were located somewhere around the
Dalhousie area. Somehow our plan had failed to materialize that time and we had
gone our own ways promising each other that someday we would come back and
explore all three synagogues and make history. (We are a weird pair.) I was
more emphatic about it because of my blog. Usually in life we make millions of
promises every now and then and totally fail to keep even ten percent of them. And
yet when I was on the way home feeling nauseated by the view of rural Bengal
outside and Zulfiqar inside I had this inkling that this time we were going to
make it. As I have mentioned earlier I am on a major promise fulfilling mission
these days. Touchwood.
Now it may appear to people that I am a great Calcutta
expert, but I am not. So when the very reticent looking cashier at Nahoum’s
told me that the synagogue was located behind the Tea Board I was in a dilemma
whether to poke at him further (scary option) or just turn on the effing GPS. I
have social anxiety so I am always thankful for the marvel of technology. Google
map told us that all three of the synagogues were clustered around the
GPO/Writer’s Building/RBI area. Sounds like a cakewalk no? Well, try to explore
that area on a Tuesday afternoon and you will know. Darjeeling has made me less
self-conscious about my boobs while walking so I was quite comfortably maneuvering
my way through the crazy crowd despite unwanted grazing every now and then. Who was not there? Vendors, office goers,
beggars, porters. Everyone was on their way to earn livelihood while the
jobless two of us were on another wild goose chase. I am lucky to have her I am
telling you.
Calcutta heat and pollution had had us this time. She was having
a gut-wrenching cough and cold and my whole face was swollen thanks to skin
rash and a severe eye infection. Nevertheless, the Jupiter spirit was high as
always. And finally we found it. A humongous red structure perched up
amidst a sea of street vendors selling junk jewellery. Magen David Synagogue. The
security guard at the gate asked for ID and we were ushered in immediately.
Now for the uninitiated – a synagogue is basically a church
for the Jewish people. They follow the Old Testament of the Bible and their
priest is called a Rabi. By far, they are the most persistent and badass community in the
world. Idiots like Hitler thought they could wipe the entire race out. And there
we were, in a city way far from Europe and Israel, standing in the middle of a
Jewish temple bearing the sign of a heritage that was not
only ancient but decaying. And yet, persisting.
The history of the Jewish community in Calcutta dates back
to 1798 when Shalome Obadiah Ha-Cohen, a Jewish trader, arrived in Calcutta all
the way from Aleppo, Syria. After Israel was formed most of the Jewish of
Calcutta left India. Now there are only eighteen of them still living in
Calcutta. Even Nahoum’s no longer has any Nahoum. The last person of that
bloodline died a few years back.
Magen David Synagogue was founded in 1884 by Elias David
Ezra in memory of his father David Ezra. Magen David means the Shield of David.
It is the third oldest surviving synagogue in Calcutta, now maintained by the
ASI. Magen David is well kept. The huge chandeliers, arches with Hebrew inscriptions
and stained windowpanes took our breath away. We couldn’t help whispering our
astonishment to each other.
Even though we knew that all three places were in the same
area I did not have very high hope of covering all of them in one day. Mainly
because it was already past 4.30 in the afternoon and I was afraid they would
shoo us away. But thanks to Moses and King Solomon (I like both a lot fyi. One was basically a badass rebel. Another was a great great king.) it was our lucky day.
The second place, i.e., Neveh Shalome Synagogue turned out
to be the next door neighbour of the first one. But good luck finding its
entrance. The entire footpath was covered in shops and people thought we were
there to buy utensil and junk jewellery. They gave us a subtly incredulous look
when we asked them about the entrance to the synagogue.
Neveh Shalome is the oldest amongst the three brothers. It was
founded in 1820 (that’s what the guide told us) by Shalome Obadiah Ha-Cohen in
memory of his father. Neveh Shalome does not have the grandeur of its younger neighbour.
It is a simple prayer hall. However, Neveh Shalome was demolished in 1884 to
make way for Magen David and it was rebuilt in 1910. Unlike Magen David, Neveh
Shalome is not maintained by the ASI.
The people at the synagogues were not so reticent and scary
like the cashier fellow at Nahoum’s so we enquired about the direction to our
next destination in details and they were very helpful. Our next stop was Beth
El Synagogue which is located just opposite Pollock Street post office. Are you
kidding? Neither of us had any idea where the hell Pollock Street was let alone
locate its post office. My friend is a bit extra so she asked a local guy if
he knew the direction to the nearby synagogue. I can bet that was the first and
last time he heard the word in his life. I gave my friend a scornful laugh and
lectured her on how to ask local people who were not so learned (read jobless
nerd) like us. You see, I too am extra. However, soon enough we could locate
the narrow alley which was apparently leading to our destination. We were
walking while getting jostled by fast moving porters while discussing
irrelevant stupid things like we always do. All of a sudden the parallel rows
of shops vanished and we found us standing in front of a massive yellow structure. We
looked to our left. Pollock street post office. Ok we had reached our
destination.
The caretaker fellow at Beth El Synagogue was visibly
excited upon our arrival. We could guess from his garrulousness that he didn’t receive
many visitors often. However, he was really sweet. He showed us around and
explained everything in detail. Here is an interesting thing. All these
caretakers are Muslims which is very unusual given the global chemistry between
the two communities. But in Calcutta the Jewish and the Muslim communities are
on excellent terms. Not to mention all the three places are situated in
predominantly Muslim localities. My dwindling faith in humanity gave me a tiny
pat on the back. All is not lost yet perhaps.
Beth El Synagogue was built in 1856. Beth El means the house
of god. All three of the prayer halls have the same pattern. It has a podium in
the middle from which the rabbi preaches his sermons. The alter is called Apse
which is a half dome and it represents the heaven. The Star of David (a pagan symbol
which became the symbol of evil in Christianity later) is visible on every
alter as well as an inscription of the ‘Ten Commandments’ by Moses.
Our caretaker bhaisaab took us to the annex part where he
showed us the old wood-fire ovens, and giant pitchers where they would make wine,
and a bath where the bride and groom would take shower before the wedding
ceremony. He told us that there was a room in the main building where the Torah
(scroll that contains the teaching of Moses) was kept. Entry was restricted
though. Jewish people observe the Sabbath day which spans from
Friday evening till Saturday evening. Photography or any kind of tomfoolery inside the prayer hall are
restricted during that period.
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