Soviet Echoes And Forgotten Ties: USSR-Inspired Places To Visit In Kolkata

There was a time when middle-class families in Kolkata named their children after Russian writers, revolutionaries, and thinkers. Soviet art, literature, and ideology once flowed through the cultural veins of the city. Young minds gathered at roadside tea stalls, sipping bharer cha and debating Trotsky and Marx late into the evening. Though those days have long since slipped into memory, echoes of that era remain—faint, but not entirely forgotten.

That era may have faded, but if you look closely, fragments of that Soviet connection still linger in corners of Kolkata—quiet, often overlooked reminders of a time when Moscow felt much closer than it does today. If you know where to look, Kolkata still holds quiet traces of its Soviet past, tucked away in old bookshops, cultural centres, and the fading murals of a once-closer comradeship.

Under The City

Every day, thousands of commuters rely on Kolkata’s Metro, the city’s lifeline beneath the streets. Construction began in the 1970s, marking Kolkata as the first Indian city to boast an underground transit system. The Metro’s blueprint owes much to Soviet and East German engineers, whose expertise shaped the master plan connecting key parts of the city. Today, the network continues to grow, most notably with a pioneering tunnel being carved beneath the Hooghly River. In a poetic twist of history, a Russian company is among the partners driving this latest phase—linking past collaborations with a future that runs deep beneath Kolkata’s bustling surface.

Streets With History

Amid Kolkata’s older quarters, echoes of a Soviet past endure—statues of Lenin, plaques commemorating Maxim Gorky, and streets named after Russian thinkers. Though Lenin’s memory fades in Russia, here he remains firmly rooted. At Curzon Park, Dharmatala, one of the city’s busiest intersections, his statue presides over everyday life. Around him, people gather on benches, sharing jhal muri, children play, and impromptu protests unfold. Recently, citizens assembled here to oppose the felling of century-old trees—a quiet testament to how Lenin’s presence has been woven into Kolkata’s vibrant, ongoing story rather than fading into history.

The Kolkata Stage

A weathered stone plaque on Ezra Street quietly honours Gerasim Stepanovich Lebedev—a writer, linguist, and musician whose name is etched into Kolkata’s theatrical history. In November 1795, Lebedev staged the Bengali adaptation of Richard Jodrell’s play, The Disguise, at what many believe was the first proscenium performance in Bengali. Boldly blending European and Bengali traditions, he cast both male and female Indian actors, defying the era’s norm where only male Europeans took the stage. The plaque stands at 37 Ezra Street, where his pioneering theatre once thrived. Last year, on his 227th anniversary, a small group of devoted theatre lovers gathered here, paying homage to a figure whose vision quietly reshaped the city’s cultural landscape.

On Your Plate

Chicken a la Kiev—or Chicken Kyiv—originated in St Petersburg in the early 1910s, but in Kolkata, it has found a second home. The city’s love affair with this ‘continental’ classic endures, with old favourites on Park Street like Mocambo and Trincas still serving up buttery, garlicky versions that evoke a bygone era of dining elegance. In these time-worn establishments, the dish is more than a meal; it’s a taste of Kolkata’s cosmopolitan past, where Russian influence mingled with local appetite to create something uniquely its own.

Read Between The Lines

In the heart of North Kolkata, Manisha Granthalay offers more than books—it’s a quiet archive of a vanished world. Dusty Soviet-era volumes line its wooden shelves, relics of a time when these publications were commonplace. The presses fell silent in the early 1990s with the Soviet Union’s collapse, leaving only these last surviving copies behind. The store itself carries a legacy: its logo was designed by the legendary filmmaker Satyajit Ray, and it was inaugurated by physicist Satyendra Nath Bose in 1964. For those seeking further Soviet literary treasures, South Kolkata’s Golpark holds a trove—from Soviet journals to 19th-century Gothic tales published by the long-defunct Raduga Publishers of Moscow, a hidden cache for the curious and the nostalgic alike.

Of Clubs And Gorky

Until recently, Gorky Sadan—the Russian Cultural Centre—was a vibrant hub of Soviet-era memory. Photo exhibitions chronicled a bygone era, while the Alekhine Chess Club, founded in 1976, drew young enthusiasts who gathered over chessboards. Though the club is currently closed for repairs, the bust of Maxim Gorky still stands sentinel in the foyer, a quiet reminder of its legacy. The exhibition hall continues to showcase Russian art, while the large auditorium once thrummed with events and screenings of Russian films, organised by the Einstein Cine Club. In this fading sanctuary, fragments of a shared past linger, waiting to be rediscovered.