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Ask any Bengali about their childhood memories, and somewhere between tales of Maa er Boron in Durga Puja, being an essential part of weddings meals, and adda sessions at the local para, the mention of paan is almost inevitable. There was a time — not too long ago — when every Bengali household had a paander dibba carefully tucked in a wooden almirah, and a jaati lying near the windowsill, waiting to crack open the day’s supari. In the afternoons, as the sun dipped lazily behind the old terraces, thakuma, pishi, or ma would settle into their woven mora, paan in hand, ready for a session of slow, soulful goppo (gossip). The red-stained smiles, the occasional clink of the supari cutter, the distinct smell of chun and kath—it was all part of Bengal’s everyday rhythm.
For the 90s kids, the nostalgia hits a little differently. Remember that thrill of tagging along to the paan shop just to get a sip of the paan water? Or the sly ek taka bribe of an orange-flavoured chocolate while baba got his favourite khili paan wrapped? Those tiny moments became a big part of growing up in Bengal. Paan, in our culture, is so much more than just a betel leaf roll. It’s a gesture of respect, a token of love, a ritual of connection. So, before you think of paan as just a habit, step into Kalpataru Bhandar, a 95-year-old paan shop in Kolkata that got approval from intellectual people like Satyajit Roy, Bhanu Bandopadhyay, and even Jawaharlal Nehru.
Have A Bite of Paan and Dive into the Past
The story of Kalpataru Bhandar begins in pre-Independence Bengal, when Radha Binod Datta, having migrated from Bangladesh, set up a humble paan stall in the heart of Kolkata’s intellectual hub. Little did he know, this stall would go on to be a landmark — a haunt for the who’s who of Bengal. From Jawaharlal Nehru to Satyajit Ray, and even stars like Bhanu Bandopadhyay and Indira Gandhi, everyone seems to have had their own favourite paan here.
Today, the legacy is kept alive by Shyamal Datta, an electrical engineer by degree but a paanwalā by heart. “I left my job because I didn’t feel at peace. This is where I belong,” he said with a calm pride in his eyes. For Shyamal, paan is not just a business. “Paan was never just about chewing — it’s about culture, digestion, and connection. Even during the summer, it helps regulate body temperature!”
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As we chat in the scent-filled air of the shop, we see rows of carefully prepared paans: Mukho Ranjun for Rs. 5, Mukho Bilash for Rs. 11, Dil Khosh for Rs. 21, and the grand Kol Poto Ru Special for Rs. 1001. Yes, you read that right — Rs. 1001. “I’ve even made custom paans for Rs. 10,001,” Shyamal adds with a grin. “If someone asks, I dedicate myself to make the perfect bite.”
One of the shop’s specialities? Your mouth won’t go red. “We’ve created a paan with chun and khair that doesn’t stain. Paaner pik berabe na, that’s our promise. Our quality means you don’t get that leftover mess you get from other shops,” he chuckles.
But beyond the flavours, it’s the stories that make this place gold. Shyamal recounts how his father once asked patrons to write their thoughts about the shop — turning regulars into loyalists. He’s also quick to lament the fading paan culture. “Today, people are into gutkha and other harmful things. Back then, paan was about sharing a moment. It was elegant. Rich people, thinkers — everyone had paan not for addiction, but for appreciation.”
His memories stretch back to seeing famed writers and musicians walk in for their evening fix. “Tarapada Bandyopadhyay, Pannalal Bhattacharya, even professors from the nearby Calcutta University used to come in daily.”
And then there's the flavour innovation. Ever heard of Couple Paan? Or chocolate-flavoured khili paan? It’s all here. But the crown jewel remains the melt-in-your-mouth khili paan, a delicacy that’s held its fame across generations.
Despite the changes in taste and times, the shop stands tall — literally and metaphorically — offering a flavourful glimpse into a cultural past that refuses to fade. Open Monday to Saturday from 11 AM to 8 PM, Kalpataru Bhandar welcomes every kind of visitor — from old-timers reliving college days to curious Gen Z foodies looking for their next Instagrammable bite. So the next time you’re near College Street, skip the café latte. Walk into Kalpataru Bhandar. Let the flavours transport you back to your roots.
"Have a paan. Relive Bengal."