The City of Joy

I had been to Calcutta to take the GRE. This was my second visit to the place. My stay was a short one. I decided to spend whatever time time i had in the streets of calcutta.

I have been to several big cities. But Cal is different. It shocking and even repelling..but intriguing too. The stinking dumps of waste in the heart of the city, the roads overflowing with traffic, the air polluted with vehicular pollution almost make you cringe. But I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer range of activities taking place around me. I found all kind of vehicles plying on the roads...luxury sedans, vintage models, buses, trucks, garbage carts, a sea of cabs and the veritable trademarks of the grand old city...the rickety trams and the hand-pulled rickshaws. Each square inch of the busy thoroughfares was utilised.

The footpaths, apparently, were home to myriad vocations. Make-shift ateries serving meals to people seated facing the walls present a unique sight. Assorted items are sold - starting from hairpins to electronic gadgets. I was walking down one such footpath, on my way to college street, with a hung head (you have to look down lest you fall pray to one of the countless knolls and dells). When I looked up, I was stratled to see a man flashing a wide grin at me. But as I found out to my fascination, he was having his teeth polished. The enterprising individuals offering the service were also skilled at cleaning ears and picking lice, as I discovered a few yards ahead.

As most people know, College Street is a treasure trove of books - particularly used ones. I stopped at one shop and strated browsing the books assuming that the shopkeeper wouldn't know about the ones I was looking for. But as I was clearly not making any headway, the guy smiled and asked me what was I looking for. I mentioned a few authors and titles, almost expecting a frown from him. But to my utter surprise he got me a dozen books in a jiffy. Seraching for Kafka, Camus, Vonnegut, Marquez, Keneally, Steinbeck...? Looking for obscure titles? You mention them and chances are they will get you the books.
As I prepared to board a cab to the station, I couldn't help have more than just a fleeting glace at the Indian Coffee House - supposedly the cradle of intellect that the city's congoscenti frequent.

I still don't know whether I love or hate calcutta, but the city of contradictions certainly put me under a spell.