A Walk through Kumortuli

If I thought that the walk through Kalighat at night was an experience I would remember for a lifetime, then I was in for a surprise because there was Kumortuli as well. Unlike the lifeless solemn Ganeshas wrapped up in plastic before their moment of celebration in the South, these sculptures as you can see were most definitely alive, they jumped out at me from the most unexpected of places, waving their arms, teasing and taunting me by sticking out their tongues as they posed for my camera.

These pictures on my blog are but an outline of the day I spent there. There was a stall which sold Googni, peas cooked in lamb broth served with soft fresh bread (who knew?), I got interviewed by a TV crew just after I enthusiastically polished off a bowl of this and was finishing off with chai. As we walked past we saw a pile of bricks with the name PRIYA molded into them.I stared at dozens and dozens of tiny shops with brightly colored doorways where artisans made what they make best,shopkeepers sold chai, barbers shaved hair...the place, like everything else in Kolkata hummed and buzzed with life. 

Here below, those faces that belong to another era and those saris which have timeless color combinations -

The patchwork house all divided up -

And lastly the omnipresent Ganga -

And with these I finally finish my long overdue Kolkata posts from my visit there two years ago. The overflowing memories are enough to fill a decade worth of visual stimulation all packed into 4 dense and exciting days. What I've shown here is just a drop from the ocean of colour and life that I saw, and each element that made up that drop was unforgettable, fascinating and enriching.

Also see:
Shantiniketan
Kolkata
Santhal Village

Ruined Versailles

I thought of the faraway time when we made love and all of life was still ahead of us - and of all those years since, impalpable, as if dissolved into thin air. I knew that the return trip is the real journey, when it floods the days that follow, so much so that it creates the prolonged sensation of one time getting lost in another, of one space losing itself in another. Images are superimposed on one another- a secret alchemy, a depth of field in which our shadows seem more real than ourselves. That is where the truth of the voyage lies. The hardest thing, then, is having to get up with nowhere to go. 
                                                                                       ~ Michele Lesbre, The Red Sofa

These crumbling havelis of Kolkata still continue to haunt my dreams...

Also see:
Kolkata
Shantiniketan
A Walk through a Santhal Village

Prettiest House

While returning from the Santhal village, we stumbled at this house at stopped and stared. A young woman who lived here came cycling inside the garden and allowed us to look around a bit. She said the house belonged to her parents. Her father was a sculptor and she was a student at Shantiniketan.

Favorite Pictures

From a walk to a Santhal village.

A Walk Through a Santhal Village

So rather than making up bulls*** posts, I have decided to finally make my long overdue posts from my memorable visit to the East of India. One of the memories that will always remain with me is a walk I took through a Santhal village with a friend. Indian villages can sometimes get overworked with embellishment but the structures in this village were simple shapes that looked like a child's drawings - uneven lines, large blocks of earthy color in limited palette and simple patterns. Arbitrarily placed objects created strange compositions. Everything seemed bleached out by the heat of the afternoon sun. We walked through courtyards and peered into windows, completely overcome by curiosity. We were not shooed away because the village seemed deserted and the few people who were present simply ignored us.