The ridiculous life
Of a VFR

A slightly lyrical post box

Leans to the right. 

Politics here leans to the left.

barks and cascades

Its 11 44 pm. Jetlagged. 

kolkata is not serene or silent. 

Stray dogs. It requires an extension of vocabulary to describe the kinds of sounds dogs are capable of making. Specially when you have about a 1000 of them in a pretty small radius. Sounds as varied as the breeds that make them. Yelps , yodels, howls, woofwoofwoofs?, WOOOOOF, oooooooooooows, aye aye aye ayes.

 The hummm of conversation, quasi constant. The cat(S), almost as varied as the dogs. TV. Car doors. Car horns Peeeeep peeep. A train. A steel plate. Someone somewhere just dropped a steel plate. It clanked. It didn’t break ( i suppose it didn’t, its steel isn’t it) 

And then, this,

Sitar.

Strains of  someone playing the sitar,

The stuff George Harrison played Norwegian Wood on. Ravi Shankar? 

Its Like

Ripples and cascades

Of some mountain stream 

So pretty,

1154. pm. 

goodnight.

Planes are too fast. Like anonymous capsules that spin you into a warp. And suddenly you are breathing a new air.how does one prepare for this ?  Rustam is surprised that ppl are brown and speak the same language that he speaks at home. Fortunately too overawed to ask questions; existential or otherwise . I am surprised at the poster  inciting travellers from Nigeria, Syria, Somalia and Pakistan to vaccinate themselves with the polio vaccine.  A bit too pretentious for what I know to be a dismal health system.
Hired car. Trying vainly to recognize Kolkata at 2 am.  Through constructions, shadows and posters of politicians: Smug,fat and smiling. Till I realize that one can’t recognize a city without the people who make it. A sudden lake ( yes there are lakes in this metropolis) and   the  big fat moon that still looks like  a spoon. THank goodness for Dylan. Restores faith in all kind of things.