CR park, though bearing a sense of familiarity to all things 'bangali', feels quite distant like most localities in Delhi. At the market, you have your standard bric-o-brac stores selling all the paraphernalia you associate with Bengali identity, food and dressing. But somehow it disappoints me. It fits your typical local community centre that is the prototype in Delhi. The warmth, the cacophony, the madness that accosts you in any marketplace in Kolkata is just not there. To further compound my disappointment, the boxed-in houses lack a sense of character, not to speak of the non-existent para culture. I know it's unfair for me to compare a beautiful city with a run-of-the-mill neighbourhood. But it has got me thinking how Delhi as a city has shaped the making of this once Bengali refugee colony, stripping it of its soul and leaving it threadbare. I left with a gnawing feeling that its inhabitants were clinging onto a collective identity that just isn't there.