I just posted a very long and supremely witty, just how witty you will never know, blog that did not save. My blog, rather like a haiku has some very particular rules. It must include at least one winge and mention of food. Other rules may emerge.
I've just come back from a late supper of a Burmese coconut based stew whose name I cannot remember that was very good. It is now sitting rather heavily in my stomach. On my way back from the restaurant whose name I cannot remember I was beckoned by one of the rickshaw drivers who stand on the corner of Royd Street where my guest house lies and was given a very firm and unyielding hand shake and an urge to take a ride I don't know where for 20 rupees. I did not go with him but maybe I will another time. A student of Arabic who was one of those who gathered around told me that the driver was 52 years old to my question of what time he started work and he seemed a lovely old man (two years older than me) with a beautiful smile.
I hope that as my confidence grows I will be able to engage more fully with anyone who approaches me. For example I never asked the student why he was studying Arabic.
A brief surmise of what I wrote before now... Main things were waking up to a stunning dawn chorus in Calcutta and a beautiful soft light and stillness over the city. Watching a Bengali at this time through a crack in the hallway window, mine are painted over to look very effectively like shutters, doing some very vigorous punches and kick before settling into a still standing yoga posture with hand raised above his head, palms together. Lying in late, doing daily chi gung and yoga, realising why I always used to wear a vest in England as I enjoy being shirtless in the Indian heat, sitting next to a pretty girl in a Spanish cafe on Scudder Street who hardly looked up from her tablet and being to timid to interrupt her conversation with it, finally finding St Andrew's church and Dalhousie Square, now renamed after 3 Bengalis executed by Dalhousie after failing to assasinate hime (nice touch), struggling to find Dad's old office on the square but taking photographs i hope to post one day of incredible old imperial buildings going to wrack and ruing (imagine central London with branches growing our of the National Gallery for example), getting help from Allam Khan with finding the old landmarks but, of course, at a price, being taken by Allam on a long tour around the court houses and along the river Hoogli, the late afternoon sun streaking a line of orange and young lovers occupying most park benches. Lots of these in Calcutta - young lovers more than park benches.
Brief recap of previous two days: vistis to the India Museum - great collection of Buddhist statues, stuffed animals, geological specimens housed in a once imposing building that is now both imposing and ramshackle. Loved it. Other visit to the Victoria Memorial where I was particularly taken by the history of the founding of Calcutta by the East India Company and the rise of Bengali intellectualism and natiionalism. First time i've been interested in politics - EVER!
Ok, I shall try to post this now. Love to all.
Davidx
