Having some time today gave us the opportunity to think over our experiences in more detail. Ali has written two further reflections on our time here in Kolkata:
Onslaught
We leave the verdant oasis
And step into the busy chaos of the Kolkata streets
Our senses are assaulted
The blare of horns
The myriad of colour
The stench of life lived under public scrutiny permeates the air
The grime of the city coats our sandalled feet
And so we walk
Along the broken and uneven pavement
Stepping past lives and livelihood
A numberless array of wares for sale
Chaotically stacked to our left and to our right
The acrid smell of rubber from tyres piled high
Footwear dangling in bright coloured pairs
The heat from chai burners radiates outwards
While the sun beats down
Our bodies slick with sweat in the humid midday air
And so we walk
Our eyes intent on our destination
Ignoring the gawps of almost every man
Our pale skin an atraction for their uncomfortable gaze
And then we arrive to another oasis of calm amid the city rush
We step into the quiet coolness of the cafe air
The fresh white painted walls
The rich dark wood furniture
The fresh, rich smell of coffee brewed
A world away from the mayhem of the city
And we know that we are blessed by these havens of rest and sanctuary.
(c) Ali Taylor
Plastic wrapped
Beneath tarpaulins stretched across the pavements
They live
Amid the debris of discarded trash
They wash
The clear cold water poured over filthy bodies
Their clothes
Hung on roadside barriers, the bright saris blowing in the breeze
They cook
On charcoal stoves, glowing red under the black charred pots and pans
They eat
From shiny metal dishes, the concrete floor their table
The babies
Play on grubby frayed matting on the dirt beneath the trees
They sleep
Vulnerable and exposed, arms and legs akimbo or wrapped into a foetal curl
They urinate and defaecate
In gutters and on verges, seemingly oblivious to those passing by
This other city of people
Dwell on the edge
Under the shade created by the plastic awnings
They have no other choice
The life they live is not their own
Inhabiting the gutters
These are the people of the slums
And these are the people of God.
(c) Ali Taylor
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