Kolkata mini burst

Kolkata street walk, drinking chai in use and throw clay 'matkis' - I don't understand why they would throw them away when they are perfectly reusable (at least a few more times) But then again there is a minuscule moment of joy as the baked clay hits the ground & breaks to pieces with that sharp yet chalky sound. Ate chow mien a few times already, remembered how some vague politician type diagnosed it as the cause of 'rape'. The streets are primped with speakers spewing old, billowy amaro bongali sounds. Reminiscent of old 'art' films. It seems crowded here with a warm and naive people, perhaps it is my mistaken optimism speaking.

I like the crowded soundscape filled with the buttery pace of spoken bengali in all its expressive splendor. Found out about 'international' roaming charges today, in preparation for my Nepal trip. Going to be on a train to Silliguri, West Bengal, tonight and on a bus to Kathmandu tomorrow night. My friend might be busy the coming week with work, I will absolutely have to go exploring with my solitary self.  

Thackeray dies.

Bombay was thick with the air of sinuous mourning and this nostalgic feeling of lurking catastrophe. I bid goodbye to its rarely empty streets under the shadowy dawn sky. I had to wrench myself away from a dream that leaves me enchanted, dreamt by a secret love for the city.

My journey forward is the agenda for the month. I am now in Kolkata, at a friends quaint place. The cloudy romance is receding but I grapple with it, pulling myself closer, pushing it away. It all seems beautiful.

Can hardly imagine being sad again.

(18th November 2012)