Hinglish. Perhaps the most evolved of all the variations of our noble mother tongue. Most felicitous and expressive, most bower birdish and elastic, most sweet to the senses, most profound to the reason. You know it makes sense. We know that Shakespeare and Chaucer would have approved. But enough of car now Le jay. What is […]Read More Hinglish Rules !
Kolkata, West Bengal, deeply mysterious one day, way enigmatic the next. Here the time honoured rules just don’t apply. This Lady, for example, seems to believe that orange and green shouldn’t be seen…unless there’s a wacking great pot on your head. Or is it pink and yeller that shouldn’t be seen…unless there’s a blue and […]Read More Bengali Child Catchers, & other smatters and snatches.
119 Lake Terrace Ballygunge. A house like any other in a street like any other. There’s our room, with the green shutters closed, on the top floor. This is Shonkar. Cook, valet, chowkidar, odd jobs man, you name it. Faithful servant of the Dutt family these many years past. Shonkar came from a small village […]Read More The Lady in the White Sari
We’re very excited to be heading to the Kolkata International Photography Festival. En route, on Rash Bihari we meet this elegant lady and amicable priest. Bengalis love a great demo. But also stop to smell the flowers. A quick coffee. Then we plunge into the Museum, one of several campuses (or should it be campi […]Read More Kolkata International Photography Festival
Calcutta ? It makes the Naked City seem like a kindergarden. This guy was keeping a close eye on things. May have a hot date ? A VERY close eye. And I think we can all agree that the result was outstanding. More importantly of course, the chicks will dig it. As you can see […]Read More Barbers, Busts, Buddhists, Bitches, Buildings, Bus Boys and Bed Head Ticket Counters.
Got lost on the way to breakfast, past a school uniform shop, school uniforms have certainly changed since our day. Found ourselves on Chowringhee, wacked on the bonce by a descending traffic arm, footpath up, footpath down, our feet like monkey’s paws feeling the ground beneath, soles undulating with the terrain, toes clutching the broken […]Read More A Little Ray of Sunshine in Bishop LeFroy Street