A few days ago I went to Calcutta. I like writing “Calcutta” instead of Kolkata. Olde world charm, if you will. The city is throbbing as ever. Dirt, grime, tea-cup politics — and the unbeatable people. Not much seems to have changed. Here’s a cabbie in the mirror. More photos on Picasa.
One of the good things about going to Calcutta is definitely paying a visit to the man who taught me guitar. Known as Amyt-da to his students, a visit to his class gives me a year-full of inspiration and ammunition. It is also an exercise in humility. Every year I go thinking, I must have become better; but no — every year it’s the same old story. I clicked a few snaps, but chose to keep a handful of him. Without guitars ! More photos on Picasa.
Ran into 2009 on the Howrah-Yeshwantpur Express. Around 12, the train stopped at Tirupati station. Saw the lights leading up to the Tirumala temple. Train is a good place to read. Munched on some biographies of Mao, Ramakrishna and Vivekananda.
Back in Bangalore, my pretty niece was visiting. So took her and my daughter and the gang to Nandi Hills. The kids enjoyed it a lot !! And now, that’s what counts. The road is also better than it was a couple of years back, so not much complaining. More photos on Picasa.