Munching upon street food

We might think of them as natural since we had been seeing them since we were children. Thousands of pandals - temporary representations of temples - on an average of about five stories high are erected all across the city which house the idols of the deities. And after five days of being open to viewing by millions, they are dismantled and the idols immersed into the Ganges. This whole idea of impermanence resonates with Buddhist sand mandalas which are destroyed once they are complete.

The pandals are works of art, of that there is no doubt. They are intricately crafted, not just with great industry but with amazing creativity and intelligence. There were sculptures of very fine detail made solely out of ice-cream spoons, some with cane baskets and so on. One can only imagine the amount of time and dedication that went into making it all. The average visitor spends hardly a couple of minutes in each pandal which might have taken almost half a year if not more to make.

Calcutta is still a slow city in terms of progress compared to its counterparts. It just doesn't seem to be moving ahead and yet it has this pent up energy within it, which requires a medium to shine through. A city with an interesting, perhaps stubborn character.

Before continuing with pandal-hopping in the evening, S and I had gone to visit South Calcutta, which has its sense of style. We visited Bar-B-Q on Park Street for a very late lunch, which might just be the best Chinese meal I have had in a long time. The place was teeming with atmosphere, at once old and regal and yet with an air of sophistication, which is very much the Calcutta I knew through my growing years. At S's insistence we visited some of the very old markets established in the colonial times as well. Even till date, there are Anglo-Indians who own shops and businesses. Many of the other communities present in the city (the Anglo-Indians, Chinese, Jews, Muslims, etc) seem to prefer shopping in this vast complex.

There was this bakery, quaint and almost shy in its lack of shiny pictures or advertisements. It seemed timeless, tucked away in the basement, oblivious to the changes occurring in the world outside. The owner, a quiet old man stood behind the desk collecting payment. The customers who seemed like patrons for decades went about their business with hardly a word. The helpers were polite elderly men too, who seemed to have been at the same job for a long time. For some strange reason, I felt touched by the contentment which exuded from the calm way they set about helping everyone get the stuff they wanted. The mind often sees what it wants to, but I think I glimpsed a quality I greatly admire. Hope the pastries we got aren't a letdown.

There is so much to write, so many little experiences that become a part of the day, but I am running short of time. It is way beyond midnight now. The photo above is about street food and Calcutta, which are almost synonymous. Without much regard to consequences, much is munched upon during the festive season.