I had not been blogging because of my preoccupations with the work for which I was in Calcutta (Kolkata). This blog post is an account of my experience, keeping the purpose of my visit under cover. Here goes the city, Kolkata or Calcutta whatever you please:
My train entered the Howrah Railway station a few hours later than the actual arrival, which is not really a new thing here in India. I stepped out of the train and after having followed the crowd for a while on the biggest railway station I have seen, I found my own way towards the prepaid taxi booth, hired one of Calcutta's classic Yellow Cab and moved out of the station premises. From the place where I could see the gigantic Howrah Bridge, I could also find myself in a traffic jam. And then started the drizzle as the taxi driver played FM on the radio which would change stations automatically every time the ignition was turned on amid the traffic jam. I reached my place of stay in an hour watching the drizzle, the ruckus in the streets and sights of men at work in a state that has seen virtually no economic growth in the past few years. After an hour's nap, I moved out to get a feeler, so I walked to wherever my feet took me, tasted food which I was ecstatic to find cheap and tasty at the same time. Came back to my room, slept like a log.
The next day I dedicated to what I call "sight seeing". So I had my backpack ready and the weather Gods seemed happy. It was humid but all in all fine. I used the metro rail service to get to Park Street. Disembarking from the train, I decided to walk in the vicinity and found the Victoria Memorial and other few landmarks. Concrete structures don't really please me but the whole thing was nice. Then I took the city bus, the trams, the cycle rickshaw to reach places I had never heard names of before.
The next day was the day for work. The thing got over in the evening and the same night I left Calcutta. Now, if you feel this was the worst ever post, especially when all the possible excitement was expected from a travel experience on a blog that is titled "Nomadic" Diaries, here's the best part: On my way back, I wanted to feel the wind in my hand, so I flung my hand out of the train window; someone was done chewing his pan and perhaps he felt the urge to spit it out at the very instant that my hand was out. I, not only felt the wind in my hand, I also felt the pan in my hand!
Hoping to make altercations in my mood and consequently in the post. Till then,
Move On...
