Postcards from Thailand

The driver forces his way through the traffic, the horn used liberally to warn, cajole or threaten those in the way. Never use a short “peep” when a long, loud blast can be employed. Motorcycles and cyclists squeeze through gaps betwixt car and smoke-belching truck. Buses bully their way through; and implacably picking their path are pedestrians, some in radiant saris, red and gold, turquoise and blue. Cows stand in the middle of the road, as immovable as they are revered. At the side of this well-rehearsed chaos lie dogs, mangy curs, sleepily taking it all in.

Here the senses are assailed as perhaps nowhere else on earth: the noise, the cacaphonic din of roaring engines and blaring horns; thje smells, some sickly sweet perfume, some spicy and aromatic, and others a stench speaking of death and decay; the sight of so many people and vehicles croweded into so small a space (and yet the city is vast) creatse an almost physical sense of oppression, of being crushed from all sides.

I’m back in India.

[I2011 2]

I’ve been to India before. It’s never been an easy experience. The noise, the masses, the chaos, the smells, the filth, the poverty, the discomfort, the bureaucracy, they all define this place. After my first visit it was 15 years before I ventured there again, and now, after a further 10 years, I’m going back. This time I’ll be visiting friends, more specifically, going for a friend’s nephew’s 5th birthday celebration. Let’s call him (the nephew) TLP – The Little Prince. How could I resist?

The plan is to see a few things around Calcutta, then to make a side trip to Puri which is a seaside resort and fairly close to the Sun Temple at Konark.

I’ll be staying with TLP’s family and joined by my friend K and two of his French friends, D and S.

It’s with a little trepidation that I’ll board my flight from Bangkok to Calcutta, not knowing what to expect.

[I2011 1]