Change is the only constant
" You want to see the Noorrthhh !!! ", my roommate Rim's extended vocal treatment of the word north was a surprise. Because the north I was talking about was ... well ... just the northern part of the city. Apparently, I was given to realize that like Mumbai where the South - Mumbai and suburbs divide is well in place, so is the case here. Northern Kolkata was the original periphery of the early settlers, both the Bengalis and British alike. I am told, that unlike South Kolkata which was a planned, phased settlement - the North was was like a magnet that attracted iron fillings. It is characterized by the Baris, the uber cutured populace and the old world charm that as a matter of fact ... is my major pull !When my landlady heard I was headed to the Burra Bazar area she insisted I rethink it. It's nothing but a bunch of filthy lanes with wholesale shops selling nothing I would buy. But one of my roommates who happens to be a photographer jumped at the prospect and we were both on my way to a massive photo - op.
If beauty is in the eyes of the beholder then a camera perhaps sometimes is that eye. A feast was laid in front of us. Beautiful colonial homes that were now abandoned and in shambles. Some weren't abandoned but the home - owners didn't look like they were sure they belonged here. A lane of fruit suppliers provided a much needed comic relief in the May sun. Confronted by the oddity of two girls clicking away in a lane full of burly men hauling away cartons of fruit, the men reacted in a manner neither of us predicted. They demanded we click them going about their work ... only they would pose for us ! One thing led to another and were like two photographers at a pool party hounded by chicks who want a click. So off we went to the stone cutters lane. And a lane where old shops still sell the things hindu families need in their temples.
And then it hit us, while the intimidating homes in the neighborhood had gone from glamour to decay, these unassuming, ordinary businesses had survived. Or had they adapted and bent to the flow of the winds like the reeds ? And the homes had disintegrated like that banyan in the story we all heard growing up. I never thought that of all the places in the world a lane full of seemingly powerless, street businesses would drive home yet again the harsh truth.
Change is the only Constant, the only law, the only plan. And the only way to eternal life.
Everything else crumbles around change. And the phoenix rises on.
" You want to see the Noorrthhh !!! ", my roommate Rim's extended vocal treatment of the word north was a surprise. Because the north I was talking about was ... well ... just the northern part of the city. Apparently, I was given to realize that like Mumbai where the South - Mumbai and suburbs divide is well in place, so is the case here. Northern Kolkata was the original periphery of the early settlers, both the Bengalis and British alike. I am told, that unlike South Kolkata which was a planned, phased settlement - the North was was like a magnet that attracted iron fillings. It is characterized by the Baris, the uber cutured populace and the old world charm that as a matter of fact ... is my major pull !When my landlady heard I was headed to the Burra Bazar area she insisted I rethink it. It's nothing but a bunch of filthy lanes with wholesale shops selling nothing I would buy. But one of my roommates who happens to be a photographer jumped at the prospect and we were both on my way to a massive photo - op.
If beauty is in the eyes of the beholder then a camera perhaps sometimes is that eye. A feast was laid in front of us. Beautiful colonial homes that were now abandoned and in shambles. Some weren't abandoned but the home - owners didn't look like they were sure they belonged here. A lane of fruit suppliers provided a much needed comic relief in the May sun. Confronted by the oddity of two girls clicking away in a lane full of burly men hauling away cartons of fruit, the men reacted in a manner neither of us predicted. They demanded we click them going about their work ... only they would pose for us ! One thing led to another and were like two photographers at a pool party hounded by chicks who want a click. So off we went to the stone cutters lane. And a lane where old shops still sell the things hindu families need in their temples.
And then it hit us, while the intimidating homes in the neighborhood had gone from glamour to decay, these unassuming, ordinary businesses had survived. Or had they adapted and bent to the flow of the winds like the reeds ? And the homes had disintegrated like that banyan in the story we all heard growing up. I never thought that of all the places in the world a lane full of seemingly powerless, street businesses would drive home yet again the harsh truth.
Change is the only Constant, the only law, the only plan. And the only way to eternal life.
Everything else crumbles around change. And the phoenix rises on.
Nice pics and good comments.
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