Confusing Banyan

Captivating Calcutta. I got into Calcutta at 4am and couldn't believe the intriguing energy that came off the streets of the city. The place was alive. Everything happens on the streets here. Laundry, pavement-side water-pump showers, curries being cooked up, chai, fruit and veg and fish and live chicken sellers, kids playing cricket, peeps sleeping and living. This is India.

After a few pre-drinks at my temporary residence, Modern Lodge, we stumbled across this puja held down an alleyway inbetween two spare parts shops which were both still visible with some of the women sat off to one side in amongst the metal junk. We were blessed (red blob on forehead), presented with a red and gold ribbon, and then had a great view of traditional singing and dancing. Fun times!

I headed off to the Botanical Gardens to see the great old banyan tree via local bus (of course) and crossed the Howrah bridge and it was just an incredible and awesome sight. It's hard to describe just how many people there are in India. As we passed by Howrah station the place was just seething with masses and masses of people filling all available space as they journey purposefully and frequently across India.

There is no sense of personal space here and everyone happily piles one on top of the other at all times of day and night and in pretty much all situations. I guess with the sheer numbers there really is no extra space to be had and so this is the way that life is led. It's possibly part economical and also part collective psyche. Observing the streets out here seems comparable: the roads are so chaotic with rickshaws nonchalantly driving up the wrong side of the road, all forms of transport zipping in and around each other at full speed piled high with people and cargo, pedestrians moving between traffic with ease and confidence; and yet there are so few calamities because of this seemingly huge understanding of each other and between each other.

...although you do still see the cycle carts being loaded incredibly high with bulky goods cycling down the busy streets. And then there's the hand-pulled rickshaws lugging lazy passengers through the city.

After musings with fellow travellers, it appears that there is a sort of silent communication that floats above the typical but figures somewhere in this collective psyche. And then somehow, after some months in India, you feel your own self drawn into it, but then everything becomes so disorienting as you battle with the homegrown idea of striking out as an individual against merging and swaying with a collective Indian way of life. You start to loose your mind a little bit as you grapple with this and the first idea to go is any sense of time. So days later as we sit drinking rose lassis I remember that my ill friend wanted a 7Up but it turns out that was a request made days earlier. Hard to explain but it was pretty funny (and maybe slightly worrying!).

Point 3 reminding you not to bring a DEAD BODY on the metro (???!). Jeez!

So yea, the banyan tree was pretty awesome. It looked a lot like little trees all clumped together with some roots starting in the sky and working their way down towards earth. Also it was pretty chill out there what with the little lake, munching (squirrel-like) on cashews, and kids messing about in pedalos and not too many "one photo".

Part of  the great big old banyan tree