Sob kuch theek taaq
Calcutta (er, Kolkata) felt like we went back in time by around 40 years. Everything’s old and has a quaint feel about it. On the other side of its quaintness, even the traffic, honking and road rage is played out so realistically in true barbaric form, unlike Bangalore where the same scenes are enacted by formally dressed yuppies driving their mid-sized luxury cars (my great self shamefully included).
Been to Cal a few times before but this was the first time at college street and its many narrow gullies. What an amazing place! You know, I’ve never got it when people speak about their favorite cities and how they are absorbed and soaked in the character of these cities, etc. (pretty much like how I don’t understand auto buffs who speak of how their vehicles handle and hug and kiss the road so well, etc… what the!!! ).
Anyways, I think Calcutta did it for me this time. It drizzled a bit as we were rushing back from Bhojohori Manna to Presidency College for sound check. It was a mad drive back.
Calcutta may not save me, but together we can cry
It’s the closest to my idea of the real real reality of an Indian city. To me, in the end everything boils down to being some shade of grey and Calcutta has the most shades to choose from.
So as Calcutta handles amazingly well, and gently hugs and caresses the road, we move to the next big city on our tour – Ny Dhilly.
About the gig: Suffice to say it happened!