A reflection

A little less than one week has passed since I've returned from a greatly life-altering experience. I've come close to expressing such a sentiment in the past; however, in reflection, I'm quite positive that my three weeks in India have opened my eyes to many, many things. Not only am I convinced that we are truly, truly blessed individuals on many accounts, but the desire to connect with my heritage, culture, and history has reinvigorated in me the familiar sense of wonder and excitement in broadening my intellectual horizons.

One of the more pleasant aspects of traveling to India is visiting with my extended family members, all of whom I get to see undesirably infrequently. Surprisingly, most of my maternal grandmother's eight siblings live within the city limits of Kolkata. Her youngest sister resides in one of the most culturally, historically, and most importantly, religiously significant part of the city: Kalighat. Here, locals and foreigners alike flock to catch a glimpse of the Goddess Kali and offer donations of fruit, vegetables, sweets, and money in hopes of atoning for their mortal sins.

One evening, my grandmother and I stepped off a bus and walked through the main street which is forcefully dead-ended at the Kalighat police station, through lines and lines of street vendors, selling items ranging from religious pendants, statues of gods and goddesses, fruits, vegetables, snacks, medicines and associated medical supplies, cosmetics, and nightwear. The noisy hubbub of this free-for-all market was no different than that present in perhaps all of Kolkata.

We slipped into a side street, and took an immediate left into a side alley that transported one to a netherworld so quiet, one would hardly remember the frenzy and chaos he/she left behind. After a few zigs and zags, I found myself waiting at a vendor's stall for my grandmother to purchase some paans, a leaf that is usually filled with tobacco-laced materials or candied fruits and fennel seeds and used as a mouth-freshener (though, paan filled with the former becomes an addictive substance, much like cigarettes and snuff). As I glanced to the left, I realized we were in the ruins of an abandoned building. Darkness had fallen in the last hour, and two vendors sat across from each other atop plastic sheets on risen, brick-laden surfaces, discussing their days' sales and current affairs. Looking above them, I noticed a make-shift plastic ceiling, flopping in the barely-there wind, the clear night sky (a welcome treat after its previously cloudy predecessor) staring back at me. Next to me, in the dim light of a candle, my grandmother carried on a brief conversation with the paan seller, subsequently paid him, and we took off.

These moments provided me with a sort of alternate-reality. Being in the United States, one hardly finds sights like those in foreign lands. Public transportation is favored over private vehicles (though the latter have gained quite the following in India, it seems), and coupled with walking on foot, it provided perspectives of the day-to-day lives of the Indian citizens. On one particular day, my aunt and I boarded a bus, with the intention of visiting New Market, one of the oldest market and theater districts in Kolkata. En route, we came upon a moderately-large lake, over which our bus traveled. Standing in between the crowded seats of the bus, I stole a few glances out of the window. Brick and clay huts lined the banks of this body of water. Clothes flapped freely in neat lines outside each one, hoping the prominently present sun left the fibers and threads of each one dry. As we passed over the bridge and continued on our way to a sprawling market, my thoughts drifted to the occupants of those earthy abodes, their clothes drying so they can be worn for another day of hardships and tribulations that these individuals habitually face. Again, as was all too often throughout my trip, I was left with a familiar sense of helplessness, a feeling that I've routinely encountered here even in the States upon seeing a homeless individual.

I find it interesting and amazing that though my previous trip was four short years ago, and there were no remarkable or eventful differences in the two visits, I've come to appreciate the more recent one in various lights. Perhaps it is due to some personal growth in the more recent years, or perhaps I had merely forgotten how I felt after my previous visit. And here, I have found another useful attribute of my writings; along with providing you with mental photography, I hope it also serves as a personal reminder of the significant experience I've had. I suppose the topics I've outlined below can serve as overarching themes of my writings regarding my visit. And though I have not posted any actual pictures or enough words to correspond to my three-week trip, I suspect I will present to you (and myself) bits and pieces of memories, as they appear in my mind, over the course of the next few weeks.

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

Judging by the previous posts, it seems I've had nothing of value to say since the end of November. Though somewhat true, I suppose it would have been valuable to note the thoughts and feelings of a university graduate. However, given the grief and pain the entire process of getting a bachelor's degree has cost me, I can easily sum up that the life of a university graduate is fabulous, and the transition to the real world (thus far) has only been rewarding. I've managed to travel through the northeastern United States, bum around at home, and venture out half-way across the globe and return all in one piece, with new-found values, ideals, and thoughts that can only be the results of eye-opening experiences.

As I've been quite the unproductive writer, I am now forced to chronicle my journey to my motherland in a few retrospective posts. I apologize for the length (I hesitate to say whether these can be categorized as short or long musings, as they are not proportional to my time in India) in advance. I hope that the brief descriptions I present will provide you with a tapestry of images, as seen through my eyes, for the past three weeks. This has been an experience that has affected me to the very core and has fueled my desire to appreciate every aspect of my life and existence. I should also lastly note that I will likely add to these thoughts in the subsequent days, as I readjust to the time change, the reappearance of television, and sorting through my thoughts and memories.

In the meantime, I suggest beginning with the post entitled "A traveler's prelude" for a synopsis of my trip.