Saraswati Puja - 'Jora Ilish or Gota Sheddho' ?

 

Saraswati Puja has a special place in the hearts of Bengalis, who celebrate baro mashe tero parbon … the festival is dedicated to the Goddess of arts, music, knowledge and wisdom. Each festival has its unique rituals which showcase the cultural heritage of Bengal, especially when it comes to food — Saraswati Puja is Culinary Heritage celebration as well. There are two distinct gastronomical rituals, passed down through generations, which distinguish Ghoti and Bangal families during Saraswati Puja. Bangal families, particularly from Dhaka/ Bikrampur, celebrate this day with the first taste of ilish (hilsa), Ghoti families observe the occasion by cooking a special ritualistic dish, Gota Sheddho. 

Saraswati Puja

In certain Bengali homes Jora Ilish (a pair of hilsa fish) is coated with raw turmeric, sindoor and mustard oil, ceremonially placed on a ritualistic bamboo tray (kulo) and offered to Goddess Saraswati, accompanied by blowing conch shells. The fish are cooked and served. The months following Durga Puja / Bijoya Dashami and Saraswati Puja are the breeding season for hilsa fish. Hence, the fish is not consumed anymore in Bangal households. The return of the hilsa after a long hiatus on Saraswati Puja is celebrated with festive joy. After all, for Bangals, “Ilish is not just a food, it is an emotion”. Meanwhile, in a Ghoti household, a special dish is prepared on Saraswati Puja evening - Gota Sheddho, a simple, wholesome vegetable stew of winter vegetables that are slow cooked whole (gota) without spices (sheddho / boiled). This ritual is part of a folk festival closely connected to the seasonal transition from winter to summer. Saraswati Puja is held on the bright fifth of Magh month (January-February) and the day after is Sheetal Sasthi (Cool Sixth). The day is marked as Arandhan (no cooking) when the kitchen is dedicated to the worship of Goddess Sasthi. The Silnora (Spice Grinder/Masher made of stone) is wrapped is sacred red cloth and worshipped as a representation of the Goddess. Gota Sheddho is kept overnight and families are served ‘cold’ (Sheetal) the next day with panta bhaat (fermented rice) and a drizzling of mustard oil.  This dish is believed to provide protection against seasonal ailments, notably chicken pox.

Goddess Sasthi is the guardian deity of fertility and protector of children, worshipped on the sixth day after the birth of a child and also on the sixth day of lunar fortnights in Bengal. A popular legend narrates the story of a greedy woman who used to eat all the food in the house and blame it on their cat. Goddess Sasthi, who rides a black cat, was enraged and took away her children. The woman fasted to appease the Goddess, and her seven children were returned on Sasthi (sixth) day. Another legend from Bengal, specifically relates to Sheetala Sasthi: In a Bengal village lived a Brahmin and his wife who were childless. One day, the young wife went to the river where her feet slipped and from her stomach a hollow gourd appeared. Upon setting this gourd in oil, seven sons were born to her. After they grew up, the Brahman married them to seven daughters of a Brahmin. One winter (Magh), the old mother-in-law bathed in hot water and told the daughters-in-law to cook a hot meal for her. The next day all the seven daughters-in-law and the housecat were found dead. The old woman realized her mistake and was grief-stricken. Goddess Sasthi appeared before her and asked her to make amends. The old woman appeased the Goddess and the dead came back to life. On Sheetal Sasthi, Goddess Sasthi is worshipped in Bengal; there is no evidence that Goddess Sheetala is worshipped with cold food in Magh. Goddess Sheetala/Sitala has been worshipped as the deity of epidemic diseases like cholera and small-pox that are common in the Indian sub-continent. She is regarded as a ‘minor deity’ from a sociological point of view, as she is traditionally worshipped by the small Savara community in Bengal. Goddess Sheetala is regarded as an incarnation of Shakti, who appeared from a sacrificial fire during a global epidemic. She is usually depicted in red sari, holding a broom, a winnowing fan and a pitcher of water - all objects symbolizing cleanliness and purification. Her vahana (vehicle) is the donkey. In some legends, she is accompanied by Jvarasura (Demon of Fever) who emerged from the divine sweat of Mahadev to cool down fever. In Bengal, the legend of Goddess Sheetala and Goddess Sasthi align on Sheetal Sasthi - which is the day after Saraswati Puja.

The association of the worship of Goddess Sasthi on Sheetal Sasthi (Magh Sixth) and the popular worship of Goddess Sheetala with cold food in March/April (after Holi) renders a mixing of identities - and marks the emergence of a new aspect of Goddess Sheetala. Both Sheetala and Sasthi are protective maternal figures in Bengal folk tradition who protect from illnesses - while Sheetala guards against infectious diseases, Sasthi specifically protects children.  

Goddess Sheetala Temple in Baghbazar

Meanwhile, on Sheetal Sasthi, Ghoti families enjoy Gota Sheddho while Bangals feast on Jora Ilish. The two delectable dishes from Ghotis and Bangals of Bengal are not directly related to the rituals of Saraswati Puja. But for a Bengali, food is the ultimate celebration of life, and the dishes … a legacy of Bengal culinary finesse. They are also the reminder of a ‘divide’ rooted in the post-1947 Partition Migration … and remain a cherished, playful, hilarious cultural conflict over food, dialect and football that energize Bengali social life, especially in Kolkata. 

‘Eko’ - Protection / Restriction ?

‘Eko’ is a 2025 Malayalam-language engaging thriller exploring loyalty, trust, betrayal, resilience, revenge and survival.

The story revolves around an absconding dog breeder, Kuriachan, and his misdeeds in Kaattukunnu, a range of mountains along the Kerala-Karnataka border. The director, Dinjith Ayyathan, uses the beauty of lush green forests and hills, to create an eerie ambience that is quite inseparable from the story. On a secluded mountain-top, lives Kuriachan’s wife, Soyi, an elderly Malaysian woman, known to the locals as ‘Mlaathi Chettathi’ (“elder sister” or “elder brother's wife”). She has a caretaker, Peeyos, a young man hired by her sons who live in Mumbai and the Middle-East. In reality, he is Kuriachan’s trusted right-hand man, who seeks to find his master. The mountain is guarded by a pack of dogs, specially trained by Kuriachan for surveillance … they are territorial and viciously attack anyone who dares to climb to the top. Hence, their presence is no accident.

Eko does not follow a linear narrative. Set against the backdrop of the late 1980s, it begins when during the Second World War, when Malaysia was under Japanese occupation (1941-45).  Kuriachan and his friend, Mohan Pothan, travelled to British-Malaya to see a rare breed of dogs trained by Yosiah – Soyi’s husband. Kuriachan and Mohan stayed with the Malaya family for a night and the three men left leaving Soyi alone with the dogs. Sometime later, Kuriachan and Mohan returned to inform Soyi that Yosiah was dead – which was a lie. However, the dogs stopped the men from stepping off their boat and also did not allow Soyi to leave the house. They became extremely agitated and even bit her. Mohan left after a while, but Kuriachan stayed on his boat for several days. Finally, he killed the dogs with a gun and “rescued” her. Later, Kuriachan convinced her to travel to India with him, with the puppies, thus bringing that rare breed to Kerala. Decades later, Soyi comes to know the truth from Mohan Pothan who comes looking for Kuriachan, who got him imprisoned. During their argument, he reveals what had really happened to her Malaya husband years ago – he had been sent to prison on a false charge by Kuriachan. The film chronicles the efforts by different characters to find out where Kuriachan actually is … however, Kuriachan remains elusive, Mlaathi enigmatic. 

‘Eko’ is actually the story of Soyi … the way a helpless young woman avenges herself by using the very system - and the dogs - that were used by men to keep her under control. Her vengeance is not violent spectacle … it is a silent transition from a life of captivity to that of a captor. The narrative hints that she gets Mohan pushed off a cliff by dogs and also keeps Kuriachan imprisoned in a cave with the dogs as guards. In essence, the rare breeds are Mlaathi’s dogs that she fed and trained herself – unknown to Kuriachan. ‘Eko’ primarily derives from the Sanskrit word ‘Eka’ which means ‘One’ … the title reinforces the idea of “One-Person” dog breeds that obey only one master. By the end of the movie, both Peeyos and Soyi know each other’s secrets. However, Peeyos is powerless to act … as he realizes the dogs would not let him escape without Soyi’s consent; Soyi has all the control, she is not a victim anymore, not just a survivor but, a victor. 

The interpersonal relationships of the characters are gradually revealed – each word, each action, hint at secrets – that make ‘Eko’ a multi-layered film that is a delight to watch as strange loyalties and betrayals suddenly make sense … the finale is a chilling resolution to this riddle. 

Alok / Aloka

Of late, a series of reels have been appearing on my social media feed. A group of twenty-four Buddhist monks and their dog, Aloka, are walking nearly 2,300 miles across the United States of America – a journey labelled as ‘Walk for Peace’ – every step is taken with purpose to remind people of peace and compassion. What intrigued me was Aloka … originally a stray pariah dog from my own city! 

Aloka joined the Vietnamese-American Buddhist monks in 2022 when they were walking in a 112-day peace walk across India. The monks belong to the Vietnamese Buddhist tradition, affiliated with the Huong Dao Temple in Fort Worth (Texas). The dog began following the monks from near the airport in Kolkata. However, he was not the first dog to follow them, but it seems, he is the only one who has stuck with them. “Many dogs follow us when we walk, but they usually drop out … Only him … Aloka kept coming back,” said Bhikkhu Pannakara in an interview by The Times of India. The monks named him ‘Aloka’ … for in Sanskrit, ‘Alok / Aloka’, means light, enlightenment and divine illumination. Aloka walked for more than 100 days with the monks, covering 3,000 kilometers across India, along highways and village pathways, crossing mountains, rivers, persevering in extreme weather conditions despite injury and illness. After the peace walk in India was over, the monks decided to take Aloka with them as he deserved better and … “If he were left behind in Bodh Gaya, he would become a stray dog again.”

Incidentally, Bodh Gaya in Bihar (India) is the most sacred pilgrimage site in Buddhism, as this is the place where Prince Siddhartha attained enlightenment under the Bodhi tree to become the Buddha.

The story of Aloka reminded me of the legend of King Yudhisthira and the mythical dog in the final two books of the Indian epic, The Mahabharata – ‘Mahaprasthanika Parva’ and ‘Svargarohana Parva’ – which describe the final journey of the Pandavas toward the Himalayas and King Yudhishthira’s ascension to Heaven. After their victory in the Kurukshetra War, the Pandavas reigned in Hastinapur for thirty-six years, before they renounced their kingdom, appointed Parikshit (grandson of Arjuna) as king, and set out on their journey to the Himalayas/ Heaven. They came across an old, emaciated stray dog at the edge of a forest that started following them. They travelled treacherous terrains and faced numerous challenges on their way. One by one, five Pandava brothers and their wife Draupadi fell, and only the eldest, Yudhisthira, and the dog reached the gates of Heaven. Soon, the King of the Gods (Indra) appeared and invited Yudhisthira to Heaven. Indra assured him that the souls of his brothers and Draupadi were already in heaven – Yudhisthira would go to heaven as an immortal being, like the Gods themselves. When Yudhisthira requested the King of the Gods to allow the dog into Heaven, Indra refused. Guided by his compassion and sense of moral duty, Yudhisthira refused to abandon his devoted follower to starvation and suffering in the mountains. He rejected Heaven instead. On hearing his resolve, the dog revealed himself as Dharma, the God of Righteousness, and praised Yudhisthira as the greatest of kings who deserved the highest heaven.

The mythic dog of The Mahabharata was likely an Indian pariah which had appeared as a divine test of Yudhishthira’s steadfast commitment to dharma (righteousness). Henceforth, the dog became a divine being and the story became a reminder that virtue lies in treating all living beings with compassion even in the face of adversity. The peace walk of the Buddhist monks is organised by the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Centre … as a spiritual outreach in an increasingly violent and intolerant world. The monks are expected to complete their peace walk of 120 days, in Washington, DC, in February, 2026, with Aloka in tow. Hence, Aloka is seen walking with the group of monks and has even developed a significant following on social media. 

The much-despised Indian pariah is one of the oldest and most resilient breeds, which has existed in the Indian sub-continent for centuries. At just four years of age, Aloka has already walked thousands of miles – he does not walk for rewards, he walks because his chosen loved ones walk. The heart-shaped mark on his head is a reminder that peace begins in the heart. In a social media post, the monks wrote about Aloka, “He is a constant presence, a true disciple of the path, and a living reminder that all beings walk toward peace.”

Aloka does not preach. He walks peace … and silently reminds people all over the world that some of the most loyal companions walk on four legs and ask for little in return. Hopefully, the story of Aloka will help to change people’s perception of these gentle souls … and reinforce the ‘good’ that is present in all of us. 

Raj Bhavan / Lok Bhavan

 

Some glimpses of my walking tour with ‘Old Cliff Archives’ to ‘Lok Bhavan’ (erstwhile, ‘Raj Bhavan’ / ‘Government House’) … which serves as the official residence of the Governor of West Bengal. It is a heritage building, a relic of the British era.

The East Gate

‘Raj Bhavan’ was built during the tenure of Marquess of Wellesley, Governor-General (1760-1842) to serve as the seat of British power in India. The Neo-Classical structure with Baroque overtones is impressive grand with its columns, verandas and high ceilings. It was designed by Captain Charles Wyatt, modeled on the Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire (the ancestral house of Lord Curzon, Governor-General of India and occupant of the Government House), as the grand symbol colonial authority in the Indian sub-continent. It is believed, Lord Wellesley was dissatisfied with the Buckingham House, a rented house on the same grounds, and decided to build a Government House which would be a more suitable residence for the Governor-General as he famously said, “India should be ruled from a Palace and not from a Counting House; with the ideas of a Prince, not with those of a retail dealer in muslins and indigo”.

The Raj Bhavan stood far away from the metropolis, amidst acres of lush green gardens. However, when it was built there were no gardens as the building was intended to be a prominent landmark to be admired from afar. Gardening was started by Emily Eden, sister of Lord Auckland, Governor-General of India from 1836 to 1842. The Raj Bhavan gardens now include two lakes and a bridge which were also planned by Emily. To the South-West of Raj Bhavan is the Eden Gardens Park named after the Eden sisters. Tall wrought iron gates with massive lions perched at the top visually convey the message: the ‘plebian’ must keep away from the residence of the Governor General, the representative of the British Monarch and the Throne. Raj Bhavan was indeed a ‘palace’ where Governors-General and Viceroys made political decisions that decided the fate and fortune of millions of people and the history of the Indian sub-continent; till 1^st April, 1912, when the capital shifted to Delhi. Some of the major colonial policies such as Macaulay’s Minute (1835), the Doctrine of Lapse (1948-56) and the Partition of Bengal (1902), were planned and put into action in the Raj Bhavan.

From the North Gate

The plan of Raj Bhavan comprises a central core with four radiating wings. The building is accessed from the north by a grand staircase. In the south, there is a portico and colonnade. Raj Bhavan has sixty rooms besides halls, porticos, verandahs, banquets and the grand Throne Room. At the bottom of the grand staircase stands a Chinese Winged Cannon. It is a trophy of war, commemorating the peace ‘dictated’ to China, as noted on its plaque, after the First Opium War (1839-1842). It was installed by Lord Ellenborough, Governor-General of India (1842-1844). The ornate artifact reminds one of the power and reach of the British Empire – its territorial and commercial expansion, specifically the history of the controversial opium trade. Several more cannons and guns were added as trophies as the British established administrative control over new territories – Sindh (Pakistan), Punjab (India-Pakistan), Mandalay (Myanmar), Kabul (Afghanistan), Seringapatnam (Tipu Sultan’s capital). Two exquisite sculptures of the Sphinx were installed in the early 19^th century on either side of the staircase. The figures have female heads and the bodies of lions, consistent with the traditional Greek / European representation of a sphinx, rather than the male Egyptian version.

Chinese Winged Cannon

Raj Bhavan showcases the re-assembled British Royal Coat of Arms on the sprawling greens as part of its history. The lost Coat of Arms that once adorned the four corners of the Raj Bhavan terrace were discovered and restored by former Governor Gopal Krishna Gandhi and his successor, Governor M K Narayanan as with the help of Intach (Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage). The Royal insignia had been dismantled after Independence to prepare Raj Bhavan for the first Indian Governor-General of Bengal, C Rajagopalachari.

The re-assembled British Royal Coat of Arms

A unique piece of mechanical heritage is the golden bird-cage lift installed by OTIS Elevator Company in 1892, on the instruction of Lord Curzon. It remains operational and is still used by the Governor of West Bengal. It is perhaps the first lift in the sub-continent. Numerous historical artifacts displayed all around: a ceremonial carriage used by Governor-Generals, ornate chandeliers, furniture, mirrors and paintings. The Marble Hall in the ground floor of the Raj Bhavan displays marble busts and replica of famous Indian sculptures. The Raj Bhavan has a modest library which holds an impressive collective of rare books, manuscripts and photographs from Governors-General, Viceroys and past Governors’ collections, dating from the British era to the present.

Our Group - Crosswalks at the Southern Side

Lit up with the colours of the Indian National Flag

The Lok Bhavan is not just a heritage building, it is a relic of the British Raj – an outstanding landmark that evokes the past and sublimates it. 

Makar Sankranti

 The never ending journey of the Sun ...

Uttarayan 
Talsari 

River of Grace

 

Himalayan source,
Washing sins, giving life,
Ocean calls her home.

Today, on the eve of Makar Sankranti, I came across an intriguing painting of Goddess Ganga. The Philadelphia Art Museum describes this painting in their collection in the following words:

Goddess Ganga is the divine personification of the most important river in India, the holy Ganges. In this painting, she rides rippling waves atop her vahana (vehicle), depicted as an enormous Rohu, an Indian carp common in rivers across North India. Breaching the water are crocodiles, and a tiny elephant, likewise associated with water and often shown as a marine animal in Indian painting. The white-robed goddess holds a vessel full of sacred river water and a lotus flower, a symbol of purity and abundance. In the sky, egrets and water birds soar across monsoon clouds.

Painting of Ganga on Rohu Fish

The Ganga River (or River Ganges) is the most sacred river in Hinduism, central to rituals, pilgrimages and livelihood for millions. It is a trans-boundary river which originates from the Gangotri Glacier (Uttarakhand) as Bhagirathi River, becomes Ganga at Devprayag, flows east to join the Brahmaputra River in Bangladesh and forms the Ganges Delta before flowing into the Bay of Bengal. Millions of Hindus travel every year in mid-January to Ganga Sagar Island – at the confluence of River Ganga – seeking salvation (moksha). As per ancient legend, sixty thousand sons of King Sagar, who were reduced to ashes by the curse of Kapil Muni, found liberation when King Bhagirath, performed strict penance and persuaded Goddess Ganga to come down from heaven to Sagar Island, flow over the ashes and thereby liberate their souls.  

In Hindu iconography, Ganga River is depicted as a Goddess riding a ‘Makara’, the powerful mythical sea creature. In Sanskrit, Makara means “sea-animal / crocodile”. Ganga Makara is a hybrid of a land animal (elephant or deer) and an aquatic animal (usually a fish, dolphin, or a snake, even a peacock with a floral tail), symbolizing control over both land and water as a life-giving force. Though ‘Makara’ may be represented in different ways, its form is usually resembles a crocodile. The ‘Makara’ is believed to be the guardian of thresholds that protects houses and temples. The Makara motif is very common in Indian temple architecture and jewellery, e.g. the Makara-head bangles / bracelets.

The Makara of Goddess Ganga indicates the great cultural significance of aquatic life, especially fish in Indian religion, socio-cultural norms and household rituals. The ‘Matsya’ in Hinduism, most notably, is the first avatar (incarnation) of Vishnu who took the form of a gigantic fish to save the Vedas and humanity from a cosmic flood, thus ensuring the continuity of life and knowledge on Earth. Another legend, mentions a fish that overheard Lord Shiva instructing Parvati, his consort, about the secrets of yoga, and was transformed into a Siddha by Shiva. In day to day life, apart from being a culinary delight, fish represent good fortune; and conjugal harmony (when in pairs) in a wedding context. In Bengal Patachitra paintings, multiple fish swim together, suggesting material abundance, as well as lives flowing in harmony.

The Ganga Makara has far-reaching relevance today in a world faced with an unprecedented global environmental crisis. Ancient people revered the fish as a bio-indicator of aquatic health. As per an inscription in the Thiksey Monastery (near Leh, Ladakh), people send out a prayer to God: “Please fill the streams with fish to keep the Himalayas alive forever.” Buddhist wisdom underlines the abundance of fish in rivers as an indicator of Himalayan aquatic health which sustain lives and livings of millions of people. The Ganga Rohu (Labeo rohita) for instance, is a vital Indian Carp in the Ganges River ecosystem as a plankton-feeder that supports biodiversity and fisheries. Hence, in ancient times, fishes were protected by being associated with the Gods and Goddesses: Hatmehit (ancient Egypt), Poseidon (ancient Greece), Oannes (Mesopotamia) and Dagon (ancient Syria) are some examples across the world. The 17^th century painting by an unknown artist from Mandi (HP) in the Philadelphia Museum of Art makes sense as it depicts the worship of Goddess Ganga by river creatures as the Goddess sails on her ‘vahaana’ – a huge Rohu carp. The painting depicts the symbiotic relationship of man and nature. Human greed has, however, rendered the relationship ‘exploitative’.

  

Goddess Ganga on Makar at Kalighat

Sadly, the Ganga Rohu has been declining significantly in the Ganga river-system owing to a combination of environmental and human factors. General river pollution, reduced water flow in summer for excessive groundwater extraction, construction of dams and barrages that block fish migration routes and disrupt breeding cycles and flawed fishing techniques like over-fishing juvenile fish – all contribute to the gradual decline of the wellbeing of the Ganga River eco-system.

Kalighat Chronicles – Patuapara

Since the colonial period, Kalighat remains one of the oldest and culturally significant places in Kolkata owing its rich tangible and intangible cultural heritage. The well-known Kali Temple – one of the fifty-one Sakti-peeths – is located here on the bank of the Adi-Ganga River. A reference to this temple is found in Manasa-r Bhasan, a 15^th century Mangalkavya literary text by Kshemananda Das. It is believed that the name ‘Kalighat’ itself has inspired the name Kolkata (Calcutta) and thereby indicates the significance of this locality in forming the identity of the city.

The Kali Temple at Kalighat

Historically, Kalighat was part of the group of villages known as Dihi Panchannagram which came under the jurisdiction of the East India Company in 1758 after the fall of Siraj-ud-Daulah. It was considered a suburb beyond the city limits marked by the ‘Marhatta Ditch’ – a three mile entrenchment dug by the British around their settlements in 1742/43 to impede the Maratha cavalry (Bargi) that raided Bengal repeatedly during that decade. These attacks were so terrifying that mothers sang lullabies to children in Bengal: “Khoka ghumalo para juralo Bargi elo deshe …” Later, as the threat of Maratha invasion diminished the trench was filled and a road was constructed over it.

Besides its importance as a place of pilgrimage, Kalighat gave rise to some enduring urban art forms as patachitra that had influenced artists like Jamini Roy. In the early 19^th century families of scroll painters / ‘patuas’ settled here and made a living by selling Kalighat style scrolls and statues centered around Goddess Kali to pilgrims in colonial Calcutta. The Kalighat neighbourhood came to be known as Patuapara. With the changing times, the Kalighat art forms became increasingly secular commentaries on the profane life of the colonial city as an artistic resistance against colonial dominance in 19^th and 20^th century Bengal. When hand-painted patachitra tradition declined by the 1930s due to mass-produced prints, only very few Kalighat patuas families retained their family tradition of ‘patachitra’ / scroll painting, and most adopted idol-making as a profession. The Chitrakar family for example, continues the art of Kalighat scroll-painting, though hardly anyone buys the paintings in Kolkata, they lamented, and most of their customers are settled abroad or in other Indian states.  

Kalighat locality. Towards Patuapara ... 

A walk through the narrow, winding lanes and by-lanes lined with artisans’ workshops and homes on both sides was quite an experience. Along these narrow lanes are spaces where clay idols dry in the sun. 

Home Workshops of Kalighat artists 

At this time of the year – December – artisans were busy crafting idols of Saraswati (Goddess of Wisdom) who is worshipped in January/ February. They use local materials and techniques to transform clay into colorful forms while maintaining a unique artistic identity tied to the sacred Kali Temple. The clay of the Adi-Ganga is primarily fertile alluvial soil, rich in minerals like smectite, which makes the clay ideal for traditional crafts like valued in pottery and idol making.  

The thriving potters are a living legacy of the importance of Kalighat as a vibrant site of religious devotion and popular art by the Adi Ganga ... which has emerged as a significant milieu for understanding socio-cultural evolution of the city of Kolkata.

The Adi-Ganga at Kalighat 

A bridge. A train whistle. Journeys to come ...

 

On my way to work, I often cross bridges built high over railway tracks. Below the bridge, rails stretch far into the distance, humming with the motion of passing trains, while above, on the bridge people travel across in cars, buses and other vehicles. The bridge built high above becomes an intersection point where two journeys cross without collision … designed with care to protect what moves beneath and support what travels above. Such bridges make me thoughtful. They feel like pauses in motion that transform commonplace infrastructure into a place for reflection … in these places one remembers past journeys, missed chances, quiet hope. As one moves forward across the bridge, one may look back, ahead or below all at once. It feels like being suspended in time; where one reflects on where one has been and where one is going ... literally, and metaphorically.

These bridges are the in-between spaces where the clearest thoughts appear.