And now we have guest writers :)

There are some things that one must do before dying:

1. Backpack through Europe
2. Gain expertise over fine dining
3. Shake hands with the Dalai Lama and,
4. Travel in a local train, specifically on the Eastern Railway.

Today happened to be one of those days when we decided to backpack through Europe. Okay, not really but hopefully someday.  For now it’s no. 4 that we’ve conquered.
So there we were, the three of us, in the Bandel Local heading to the historic Bandel Church. Well, fine. I missed the train. It was just the two of them in that train while I struggled out of bed, wore my socks and ate bread toast (which my mother insisted was a healthy mid-morning breakfast) at the same time and ran to catch the next available train. After the not-so-smooth beginning, I finally met the two tourists and we headed towards the auto stand. A fifteen minute crowded-auto ride later, we found ourselves amidst a busy street which had BABA CABIN restaurant on the left and a very questionable biriyani stall on the right. But there it stood, right in front, the majestic Bandel Church. I am lying. There was nothing ‘majestic’ about the Bandel Church. In fact, BABA CABIN seemed a lot more appealing at that point.
Nonetheless, all three cameras were out and clicking as we headed in to what looked like an entrance.  No, we did not find devout worshippers singing psalms at every corner. What we did see were a lot of glittery families who had come to picnic on the church ground. I was really glad I had that bread toast. There were some decorations put up for Christmas [the previous day] for which one of my two travelers added with a smirk, ‘That’s the nativity scene, in case you did not realize.’ Yes, thirteen years in a convent school and I still needed a Bible history lesson. 

Bandel Church is one of the oldest churches in West Bengal. So obviously there will be reconstructions done from time to time. I’d like to know whose idea was it to use shiny tiles (the kind I have mostly seen in really swanky bathrooms) for the reconstruction of the church interiors. It seemed like a logical construction choice because everyone likes to feel pee-ish in public places.  
So the Church itself is very reminiscent of general catholic school churches. Nothing very special about it except it had a lot of stairs and that it was built in the 1600s. 

Anyway, having made the realization that history can be very misleading and unexpectedly disappointing, we left to fill our tummies. Being short on cash, we decided to hope back on the train [and this time together] and go to Shrirampur. While on the train, we came across a variety of people. While some revealed their flat tummies (as we sucked in our own) others merely stared at us as we chatted loudly about inappropriate girl things. Oh, we also had tea in a mud pot (possibly one of the best moments in the train).

We reached Shrirampur, where SAMRAT (the restaurant which promised great food) waited for us. Having had our late lunch which consisted of one plate of chow and garlic chicken split three ways and talked about everything (read: everyone) under the sun, we decided it was time to put this day to an end.  We boarded our respective trains (this time separately) and as I watched them struggle to get inside a cramped ladies compartment I knew that we had to repeat this journey again and soon.

Amrita Kar

Vignettes:)

For all the good times we had and the gorgeous city we explored. :)

(From top,left to right)- Basubati at Baghbazar, Kumartuli,St.Andrews Church BBD Bag, Birla Temple, Beth-El Synagogue, Church of most Holy Rosary, Magen David, Kidderpore Dock, Chinese Temple BBD Bag, Jain Temple at Belgachhia, Latubabu-Chhatubabu Lane, Jain Temple, Shovabazar Rajbari, Basubati, Vivekananda's House, Christmas goodies being sold, Sovabazar Rajbari, Latubabu-Chhatubabu's House, Old Mint on Strand Road, Magen David Synagogue(next 3) ,Portuguese Church,Birla Temple Sculpture.

It's Not Over Yet!!!!!!!!!

Due to the temporary desertion of fellow tramps, Kolkata Kaleidoscope had to remain in storage for some two weeks. But the itch to walk is hard to ignore and thus, yours truly caught hold of another willing tramp to...well...tramp around the city. This time the destination was the much-loved Millenium Park, followed by the even more loved Chitto-da's Fish Fry, a re-visit to St John's [incidentally, being in a state of renovation most of it was inaccessible], and a tram ride down Chitpur Road [Yes, again. Fellow tramp looked mildly bored and resigned :) :D].

St. John's, BBD Bag

 Anyway, first things first, Millenium Park is really small!! It is a  cozy enough nook for cozying up but I fail to see the point of enclosing a tiny area of the bank and charging money for entrance. A stroll down the promenade is no different from a stroll down the other ghats and thus, Millenium Park is a bit of a disappointment.

Second Hooghly Bridge

The fish fry is a gift of the gods at 35 Rs. a plate. Chitto-da regulars looked at us with mild displeasure, probably realizing that their bastion had been infiltrated by non-regulars as well. Refusing to be daunted by the slightly scornful looks that were passed around us, we chomped our way to gastronomic fulfillment. This was followed by an unending wait for a tram [which is unusual, really]. I had never consciously looked out for trams on the road, considering them as natural to the cityscape as..erm..lampposts. However, it is only with travelling on them extensively that I noticed trams have an admirable frequency especially on certain routes. And they are cheap [4.5 Rs. always!!] The ride down Rabindra Sarani was as insightful as always, and I discovered the remains of the Adi Brahmo Samaj [the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj being on Bidhan Sarani] nestled between shops selling goat's brain curry. And. like everything else in the city, thereby hangs a tale...

P.S. : Do NOT lose your tickets in Millenium Park. For one heart stopping minute, as my fellow tramp rummaged through layers of winter clothing in order to extract ticket stubs that were entrusted to his safekeeping, I had visions of us going to prison for alleged obscene acts without an entrance ticket. shudders]

The final chapter.

As we wrapped up Kolkata Kaleidoscope for this year ,there are certain things that seemed really strange to be forgotten. The Jain temple at Belgachhia that was one of our last destinations appeared huge in terms of area but was not really that intricately carved with colourful tiles and glass bits like that of the Jain temple we had seen last year at Gouribari. The main temple remotely resembled a miniature Red Fort and unlike its Gouribari counterpart did not have three more temples for company in the vast space of land that it occupied in Belgachhia. However, since there are very few people visiting this place therefore the whole place retains its serenity without being interrupted by the usual crowd of people disturbing the sanctity of temples in India . In contrary to this the monument supposedly labelled as ''Clive's house'' is just a pile of bricks manifesting the neglect of both the Government and the people around there. A visit to this monument at Dumdum was in noway appealing when we fished out that a dilapidated old building sheltering a pregnant goat and a few slum dwellers. The best part of the whole scene before our eyes was however a row of clothes hung out to dry on the slab mentioning ''Clive's House'' along with a brief description. This was just enough to ensure that we would not try to go further in order to take a closer look at the mass of debris before us.

Friendly Advice/Suggestion

This post is strictly for those who find stationery alluring [and I mean all the connotations of this word]. We [like I said, this post is for like-minded brethren and hence the collective address seems apt :)] despair at the rising costs of copies, and the inversely proportional quality of those copies. We groan when we run out of our favorite brand of pens [yes, we are brand conscious]. We are fussy about the exact number of pages our copies must have, their specific size and the graphics on the cover page. In other words, we are connoisseurs, striving to reach perfection in every sphere of stationery-selection. We are envious of others' Classmate copies, and we exchange notes on where to get the best ones.

Thus, we are grateful for Jackson Lane. This little alley, parallel to Canning Street, has been given the moniker of Indra Kumar Sarani. It intersects with the Old China Bazaar Street, and it is paradise for all of us who lovingly caresses every stationery item sold, well, anywhere. Thus, when we get the opportunity of buying a set of copies [with the MRP of Rs. 180 gleaming menacingly at us], for Rs. 142, we jump at the chance and thank God for keeping us alive. We make more than one trip, inhaling dust, smoke,and survive being elbowed, only to pick up more such gems. We make sure that no two copies have the same cover page; we ensure that no two Arctic Glacier series are the same; we weigh the bulk in our hands and we purr....

From Chinese Temple to Chittoda’s....

Our next destination was the 106 years old Chinese temple near Tiretta Bazar. As the wooden green staircase coupled with red ornate wall hangings take us back to the Oriental ,one cannot help notice the hanging-white tubelights disrupting the beauty of the room replete with intricate adornments and warm candlelight in beautifully carved old Chinese glass lamps. The glass lamp holders offer the adequate glow to the God making the tubelights seem really unnecessary in such a small yet beautifully adorned place. However looking back the memories of the temple becomes more prominent when I remember the warm Chinese faces that conversed with us in trilingual languages before letting us in .’’ Observation through traveling around helps you to learn more than you ever will through books’’, said one of them and perhaps it is true especially when we see three distinct destinations like the Chinese Temple, Kidderpore Dock and Dacres lane on the same day. Dacres lane seems to me the favourite haunt for all those with a gift of the grub. A narrow lane with tiny dark shops frying various delicacies in a huge black wok with flies hovering all over the place and broken benches on the other side for people to sit and eat, Dacres lane will still amaze you when the next thing you find a Merc and Santro entering the lane pushing you almost into one of the drains or the woks on either side. Chittoda’s little eatery specializing in its Chicken Stew with ‘’Roti ‘’which refers to bread is supposed to be really famous here but it is the fish fry that appealed to my taste buds the most.

After the delectable experience at Chittoda’s and the Chinese Temple the journey to Kidderpore had almost lulled me into sleep Despite the breathtaking view of Victoria Memorial,race course and the Maidan ,the journey is quite dusty till you enter the tram depot at Kidderpore. The view of the huge ships standing tall at the Kidderpore Docks from the Kidderpore bridge is majestic enough but sadly enough it is not the safest and cleanest of journeys that two young girls can hope to make especially when you are neither allowed to take photographs nor enter the prohibited area of the Dock. As the tram snakes back past the Fancy market at Kidderpore , Race Course ,Victoria Memorial and Maidan we are too exhausted to appreciate a little kid scolding a dog or the gorgeous view of a greener Calcutta in this route. All we could think of is how to make another visit to Chittoda soon to have another bite of that delectable fish fry before we have to return to our unavoidable hectic schedules.

The Hidden Gems of Brabourne Road

Armenian Church

Brabourne Road [leaving aside my aversion to the new street names, the rechristened Brabourne road is absolutely unpronounceable] can easily be called the most cosmopolitan and secular road in this city. Every street which leads off this thoroughfare, whether one walks down from the Tea Board, or from Armenian Ghat, contains a place of worship nestled among wholesale or paikari shops which sell items like notebooks, copies and diaries; a veritable treasure trove for college students on the perennial lookout for cheap stationery. One of the first churches that one will, literally, stumble on is the Armenian Church, believed to be the oldest church in the city. The white marble that dominates the cathedral annex as well as the main building is echoed by the graves that one has to step over in order to access the church. This church was apparently built over an Armenian grave, in the year 1764. This makes it by far the oldest surviving church in Kolkata. The arrival of the Armenian community predates that of the British and prominent Armenians of the city included Stephen Arathoon, founder of the Stephen Court. The Armenian establishment in the city also runs the Armenian college on Free School Street [incidentally, this college is housed in the same building which witnessed the birth of William Makepeace Thackeray] which caters to Armenian youth from Armenia, who receive education and other benefits here before being sent back to their country. Finding the Armenian Church requires an immense amount of perseverance and patience since shops selling chudis, Christmas decorations and other fancy items, tend to obliterate any view of the church.

Beth El Synagogue

The next gems we unearthed on Brabourne Road are the two synagogues; Beth El on Pollock Street and Maghen David on Canning Street. A visit to these absolutely stunning, and protected, synagogues will require a permission which can be obtained from Nahoum's [time to pause and reminisce about their chicken samosas and plum cakes] in New Market. Beth El is the first synagogue which can be obtained if one walks down Brabourne Road from BBD Bag.
This yellow bulding is in excellent shape despite services having been discontinued for over ten years now. A marble testament to David Joseph Ezra takes pride of place. The interiors reveal gleaming chandeliers and a vast altar, dome shaped, on which are inscriptions from the Torah and the Ten Commandments. Maghen David is a mere five minutes walk away from Pollock Street, and this red brick building on Canning street is bigger [and may I add, better].This synagogue was built by Elias David Joseph Ezra, the son of the David Ezra, and the interiors are extremely well kept. The gatekeeper very obligingly ensured that the place was illuminated, so that we were able to catch a glimpse of this monument is all its splendor. The stained glass windows gleamed their myriad colors onto the enormous pillars throughout the nave of the synagogue.

Maghen David Synagogue

Finally, after abandoning an attempt to trace the Greek Church [we are on it, and will not rest till we locate this elusive church :)] we moved across the road to the Church of Most Holy Rosary or the Portuguese Church, on Lucas Lane, now called the Portuguese Church Street. This church came as a pleasant surprise since all discussion of churches in Kolkata end with St. Paul's and St. John's. The church is decorated for the upcoming festivities and a little boy took it upon himself to be our guide. The Church of Most Holy Rosary is located at a stone's throw away from Saifee Masjid, which we could not enter due to religious restrictions. Thus, this one road, which appropriately enough is also home to the Passport Office today, remains as a testament to Kolkata's various ethnic communities, and to the secularism we are so proud of. Unlike most claims we Kolkatans like to make about the city, which are tenuous at best, there is no denying the cosmopolitanism and tolerance that has shaped this city, and continues to lend order to the chaos called Kolkata.

P.S.: I am adding my Picassa album link for anyone who wishes to have a look at the pictures. They are not works of art but they are worth a dekko :) The link is: https://picasaweb.google.com/110843013966038898920/KolkataKaleidoscope2011

Of Gods and graves....

After a long time I was strangely taken back down the spiritual memory lane when I saw the Birla temple in Kolkata today. The Radha Krishna temple at Ballygunge uncannily resembles North Indian temples for more reasons than one. Despite the hassle of not being able to enjoy with my friends, the place just left me speechless in terms of its maintenance, beauty and size. By far, I think it is one of the best temples in India . Though in terms of its size and popularity it is perhaps no match to any Tirupatti, Jagannath or Vaishno Devi yet when you climb up the stairs and encounter the vast marble area before your eyes with so many huge statues of Radha, Lord Krishna and Lord Ganesha around you are left wondering if you are in one of the most beautiful temples of India. What strikes one the most is the way they have staunchly maintained its cleanliness by refraining from allowing flowers and any kind of liquid product as offerings to the Gods. Whether you are religious or not this place is bound to make you feel blissful and at peace with yourself.

The third day of our Kolkata Kaleidoscope started with the feeling of such bliss when we entered our first destination of the day at Lower Circular Road Cemetery. After my fateful visit to the Park Street Cemetery last year, I was quite nervous and apprehensive about my trip to this cemetery. However , the well paved roads leading to the different sections of graves provided an instant relief to the assurance that there is no chance of slipping and falling here unlike the slippery mossy paths South Park Street Cemetery. What amazed us the most was the huge area replete with graves ranging from ones dated in early 19^th century to ones built last year, all placed side by side in pretty congested rows of uncountable graves. There are some holding three family members with elaborate arches and designs on the tombstones and the others which are cracked and broken in an eerie manner almost as if someone has tried to break in, plunder and loot a grave. Besides the well-known graves of Michael Madhusudan Dutta bearing the famous epitaph , Drinkwater Bethune and Deenabandhu Andrews ,there are the more recent graves which reflect the impartiality of a cemetery allowing even simple graves with a planted cross over holding lesser mortal with equal care and reverence. Some bear photographs of its long lost residents and some have beautiful lines inscribed over them but in the end you realize that Thomas Gray was not very wrong when he wrote,

‘’ The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.’’

The Road not taken

The second day of our Kolkata kaleidoscope experience was quite different from what we had expected. One of the most photogenic and oldest roads of Calcutta did not appeal to me when I had to walk over blood being washed down a butcher’s shop ,when after every two steps I had to close my nose due to the unavoidably ubiquitous presence of an urinal. While this was not enough, the road that prides itself in specializing in its markets for different goodies right from paper plates to brass utensils ,cane decorations to weirdly shaped dried cowdungs had a distinct smell which was a combination of both marble dusts and chilli powder. As you can imagine , this smell was enough to make the journey a nose-tickling one if not as scintillating and risky as we had imagined. Even though my perspective of the famous Chitpur Road might be a dismal one, there are certain things I cannot help appreciate while walking down this road or while going through it in a tram. Primarily, the road did not fail to astonish me in its ironic juxtaposition of Kumartuli nearby and Sonagachhi on another side. Its almost like one road showcasing the two distinctly contrasting worlds which cannot collide yet somehow coexist in perfect harmony for centuries now. On one hand you see women standing in enticing poses alternately in broad daylight and on the other hand you see Goddesses being carved by mere mortals in their own little dens of sculptures , making a random pass at us when we ask for permission for clicking pictures. However dirty might Chitpur road be ,you cannot shut your eyes to the creativity of handmade cane baskets, sculptures, statues, fancy utensils and sweets that are sold in different corners of the same unending road. Kumartuli is fascinating in the way you get to see idols of Gods and Goddesses being dried on the roof of the huts,the way a man is engrossed in adding a detail on the idol of headless Saraswati and the way the sculptors are indifferent to photographers. It might not be easy finding anything in such alleys of this old road .While Kumaruli is easy to locate with the approach of sculptors' shops, the lesser known alleys with dilapidated ruins of Tagore Castle might be a little difficult to find. Quite unexpectedly you realise you are at the foot of this ruined monument only when you are standing in the middle of a vegetable market with vendors and buyers caught in a perpetual battle of bargaining . Despite the large display of fresh fruits and vegetables that you might have to hop, skip and jump over to click a photograph of a certain Tagore Castle or the other, this is a road which does not cease to arouse your curiosity till the very end.

We stretch our necks out to have a good look as our tram snakes through the hustle and bustle of this long road and by the time we reach Nakhoda Masjid we are already regretting not having been able to photograph many things that we would have captured had we been walking through this road. There is some kind of relief on one hand as you leave the road and also a certain amount of regret but you shall be assured of one thing after everything that is it is one part of Calcutta that defines it in a way that you cannot ignore if you really want to absorb the character of the city in and out. Hence despite its infamy ,if its still a road not taken, it’s a road that should be taken only to experience Calcutta at its industrial, commercial and creative best.

The sights and smells of Chitpur Road

Chitpur road, divided into upper and lower parts, is older than Kolkata, or so the popular legend goes. I staunchly refuse to refer to it by its new name, which lends the narrow, dirty and delightful road a respectability which I am sure the road looks upon with disdain. This winding road, easily divisible into various sections catering to various professional communities, begins as Bentinck Street and continues to, well, I really don't know where. The lower section of Chitpur road, which marks the stretch from Bentinck Street to the MG Road crossing, is primarily occupied by Muslim tradesmen selling everything from wigs to expensive chikankari items, luscious fruits to star shaped cow-dung cakes [talk about customizing!!]. The imposing domes of the Nakhoda Masjid loomed over us as we craned our necks to catch a sight of it, which our placid tram generously afforded us. The tram rambled on as we crossed one famous landmark after another. The smells of Bagri Market were quite overwhelming as our untrained nostrils expressed irritation at this sensory assault. Shops selling musical instruments, most of which we could not even name, lined both sides of the road. It is also believed that Madhusudan Dutt composed his magnum opus sitting in a tiny alcove in one of the many crumbling mansions dotting both sides of the road.

However, the scenes and smells soon changed once we crossed MG Road and entered the Hindu Marwari sector of this erstwhile economic nerve-center of Kolkata. Shops selling brass utensils, baskets, various religious paraphernalia became ubiquitous and the predominant color which impressed itself upon us changed from green to saffron. We passed the archway of the Jorasanko Thakurbari. Prashanna Coomar Street, Tagore Castle street were areas we had already explored on foot and thus we knew that the quaint names concealed both magnificent buildings and unthinkable grime and dirt in their fold.

The tram continued to plod its way with a stoic dignity, while lesser vehicles jostled for space. We passed the notorious jatra para in the upper division of Chitpur Road, and, true to form, we leaned out of our tram windows, risking our necks, both literally and metaphorically, to catch a glimpse of the women lining the narrows alleys which form the infamous red light district of Rambagan, Sethbagan and Sonagacchi. The close confines of the tram allowed us to vicariously indulge our curiosity, while being reassured of our own distance---spatial, geographical and circumstantial---from the women in the alley. The tram continued down Chitpur Road but unfortunately it was time we hopped off at the intersection of Grey Street/Sobhabazar Street. Chitpur Road did not disappoint us. We probably did not do justice to this ancient lifeline by choosing the comforting confines of the tram instead of braving the entire stretch on foot. 

And out come the rubber sandals...

So we decided to renew Kolkata Kaleidoscope again. Having exhausted all the conventional landmarks of the city, we had to really rack our brains, raid strangers' Google albums, and tire everyone with incessant questions in order to come up with a rather eclectic list of tumble down mansions, bustling thoroughfares, places of worship [hidden among shops selling everything imaginable!] and the common favorite, the bank of the Ganges whose colonial aspirations [it shall become the Thames soon, the powers that be have promised] sound strange in a postcolonial world.

Such trips as we undertake expose the ramshackle state of Kolkata's heritage buildings, and it really is painful. Squatters have occupied magnificent properties which have become derelict or are embroiled in legal tussles between warring families. Mansions that have been restored lie ugly and out of place in the squalid brown which is the color I associate Kolkata with. Nonetheless, beneath garish colors, anachronistic motifs and the other paraphernalia of heritage restoration, the beauty of these buildings can still be glimpsed if you look hard enough. Most of the buildings and mansions which are hailed as being "colonial", "old world" and so on are actually quite kitschy with many influences, all combining to confuse and shock the spectator into repulsion and delight. Purists shall shudder with horror at a monument like the Marble Palace, a personal favorite, which takes your breath away at the sheer audacity of placing originals by Titian and Renoir alongside marble statuettes of dubious origins! Yet, this is the reason why Calcutta continues to fascinate. The city's heritage buildings, a veritable cornucopia of styles, designs, influences, mostly crumbling, derelict or shabbily restored, still make us squeal with excitement. You really do not know what you will hit upon at the corner of a dingy alley, and so we renewed Kolkata Kaleidoscope again...

Kolkata Kaleidoscope 1st day- Walking along Old Calcutta.

Its not everyday that you get to have a near close view of one of the world’s notorious red light areas ,an opportunity to walk through the alleys of North Kolkata with the hand-pulled rickshaws almost running you over. There is something distinct about North Kolkata as you would probably hear from every Calcuttan. While its dirty and congested ,one cannot deny that the narrow alleys retain the characteristic charm of the old Calcutta that you might not find in the clean and sophisticated areas of south Kolkata. This was not our first trip to the heritage sites of Calcutta and this time as we had intended to explore the more rarely-visited corners of the city’s cultural past, we embarked on this journey with the God’s blessings at Thanthaniya Kalibari . Our first destination was a pleasant surprise . Vivekananda’s ancestral house is marvelous with its newly renovated interiors that have still retained the essence of the original house. With the winding staircases and vast courtyard, parts of the house reminded us of the Jorasanko thakurbari. The ambience compliments the spiritual side of its renowned resident and it is evident that Ramkrishna Mission along with the aid of Archeological Society of India has indeed done a brilliant job.

Quite contrary to this , the Sovabazar Rajbari ended up disappointing us when we went in to find the grand courtyard adorned with garish pink, blue and orange cloth for the purpose of some uncultured stranger’s wedding. Not only had the courtyard lost its beauty with the shamianas and pandals being constructed there,the plastic flowers of almost every vibrant colour on earth just added to the new-found despicable adornment of the Rajbari. Like the Rajbari , we had been equally enthusiastic about our visit to the Basubati on Baghbazar Street ,especially after having recently seen the movie 22e srabon. However after having walked for about 15 minutes ,looking at just a board showing ‘’Sister Nivedita’s House’’ without the remote sign of any entrance when we did find this dilapidated building that resembled nothing short of a haunted house from the suburbs of British Calcutta, we were not pleased to know that we were not allowed in. Basubati is beautiful if you have the instincts to appreciate all that it stands for. The house stands tall at the end of a lane on Baghbazar Street and the lion head carvings are remnants of the imperial past that this mansion still holds onto along with the tall pillars that are characteristic of Old Calcutta mansions. The cobwebs and the bramble bushes add to the sinister ambience of the place that probably only allows shooting teams inside and not the benign students who might be keen on appreciating the interiors of this house with any profitless aesthetic motive.

Once we were done with Basubati , we took a bus back to New Market since we preferred not to walk along the road that passes the infamous red light area of Sonagachhi. Even while seated in a bus our curiosities could not refrain us from looking outside the window as we passed this area. Even in broad daylight one cannot help noticing several women in garish make-up and weirdly matched dresses of vibrant colours and designs posing in a distinct manner in an attempt to start business as soon as possible. The expressions on their faces are noticeably in contrast to the vibrancy of their attire and as we ,the privileged curious lot pass by ,all we can do is wonder ,sigh and then forget all about it.

Our giggles returned as we found New Market already adorned for Christmas and ventured into the tourist hub of Free school street only to discover numerous shops of variety and interest where we wished that our purses had more money to spare. Last but not the least ,the tram ride from Esplanade to Hatibagan cheered us up like always as we passed through Central Calcutta watching ,ogling, absorbing and waiting to experience more the next day.