“In many ways, Calcutta — or at least, the Calcutta I knew — found an apt metaphor in a derelict, tuneless piano: once grand and imposing, but now consigned to cobwebs and memories; difficult to accommodate in any practical scheme of things, yet defiantly enduring; pathetic to some, poignant to others, sufficient to itself.“Over the years, Calcutta has played a medley of themes for me, as haphazard and helter-skelter as befits a chance-created city.

Many of the passages have been harsh and jarring, some nostalgic, not a few quirky and offbeat. But all of them have been meant only for me.“Anyone who has ever been there has his own Calcutta. All you have to do is listen to it, as I have listened to mine”, says Jug Suraiya, in this moving tribute to a city he has loved.