The Colours of Cal

Mongini's is a big thing on Kolkata campuses. In my personal opinion, of the three kinds of chocolate cake they offer (Dream, Bar & Fantasy), Choco Fantasy is the best. Its light and sweet around, like a home-made sponge, and decadent in the middle with a wavy layer of grainy chocolate sauce.. or is it cream?

My Bengali friends in Delhi tell me it is not entirely customary to call Kolkata 'Kol' for short. They say its still 'Cal'. And it is for some people. But I'm new here remember? Kolkata is the only Calcutta I have ever known.

Some walls here are decorated with detailed mosaics. The tiny rugged polished coloured tiles on these tell stories. I pass a few on my way to University. These bear elaborate motifs of India's freedom struggle, tribal movements, tribal art, cultural patterns, violence, revolution and celebration. A tall wall elsewhere bears a sky scraping mosaic of Mother Teresa, with every kind line on her face and every generous fold of her sari done painstakingly in tile.

Today I have learnt to say in Bengali that according to Hobbes, life in the state of nature, is solitary, poore, nasty, brutish and short. Much to the sheer thrill of my classmates.

Forum Mall, near Park Street, is a quaint little round about of a mall. It has this truly incredible store of goodies and bling - elegant fake flowers, belts, earrings, headbands, bowls... quite a pot-pourri of pleasure. The food court takes its chillie chicken very seriously. They make sure theres as much chillie in it as there is chicken. I recommend the Pizza Hut instead.

Everyone here recommends New Market. When you get down at this very British and long red building, its an absolute festival. Inside, there is a labirynth. Picture a neverending maze of little shops, yards of sequined cloth, mannequins and pinched dresses, cutting edge of downmarket fashion, stationary, books. Picture again an expanse of gleaming vegetables, in scores of wicker baskets. Large caracsses of food-to-be and flailing poultry. Winding lanes and little roads. Shops full of crystal and glass ware - delicate women, vases wishing to be Ming, lotuses with facets, plenty of blue and pink and clear. And a sense of utter peace in the quietest of its bylanes, where grocers recline in the evening breeze of their fans, a broom sweeps sober dust and heaped spice is cool.

Why is there so much peace in Kolkata's bustle?