Saturday, March 2, 2013

Experiencing the Biggest Act of Faith in the Universe- Kumbh Mela 2013

It was a momentous occasion to be a part of the largest ever human gathering in a single day- a milieu of 30 million people gathered at the confluence of the rivers Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Sarasvati in the north Indian city of Allahabad on February 10, 2013 on the occasion of the Hindu religious pilgrimage of Kumbh Mela. In perspective, the congregation was equivalent to the ENTIRE population of New York AND London converging at a beach in one day, or ALL the spectators of the 16-day London Olympics gathered together to watch one single event.

The momentum has started building up with my visits to Kumbh Mela in Haridwar in 2010, Dev Deepavali in Benaras in 2011 and Ganga Sagar in Bengal Delta area in 2012 {separate blogs on each event}. Experiencing Maha Kumbh Mela in Allahabad on the biggest and most auspicious bathing day of Mauni Amavasya on February 10, 2013 was a perfect climax of the crescendo which was building up through these events.

My planning for participation in Allahabad Maha Kumbh Mela started 16 months in advance. Among the seven auspicious bathing dates of this 55-day event, I chose to attend the most important one of Mauni Amavasya. A primary reason was to be able to witness the Shahi Snan (royal procession) of the different sects of Hindu saints, including the mythological Naga ascetics. A casual conversation with a childhood friend regarding the travel plan expanded the travel group to six, in contrast to my customary trips to these places all by myself. I booked hotel room a year in advance, and train tickets were purchased on the opening day 4 months before the journey. A continued contact with a Dandi Swami from the Haridwar trip in 2010 helped secure on-site accommodation for our group, which is absolutely essential for experiencing an event like this. Several planning meetings were held, packing lists were exchanged and event notes shared within the group, before we converged in station on Feb 7th to board the train to Allahabad.

The journey was uneventful, except that the train was late.  We were together in the same coupe and engrossed with ourselves.  After reaching Allahabad, we took rickshaws which took us to the Rahi Ilawart Tourist Bungalow of U.P. Tourism Department The heavily-built rickshaw pullers dumped our bag and bedding behind the seat, supported by the cloth and the frame of the hood; and charged a very low fare.  I couldn’t resist a chuckle comparing them to the rickety, unionized and moody rickshawallahs of Kolkata.  My people experience had already begun!

Next morning of February 9, we started our journey to the camp at 9 am.
The "Dare to be Different Team" at Hotel Ilawart, on way to Mela(missing one, who is behind the camera)
  By then, the stream of pilgrims walking from the station and bus stand to the Mela site had already started, and there was confusion about the point till which we could travel in rickshaw before we begin the mandatory walk.  The rickshaws dropped us after about 3 km at the nearest drop-off point in Sector 1 near the Sangam, and rushed off for the next set of passengers.  This was their once-in-12-year opportunity to make some good money.  We started our walk from this point, full of exuberance and powered by anticipation of what lay ahead.  The trudge along the northern bank of the Yamuna through Mela Sectors 1-5 past the Sangam (confluence point of Ganga and Yamuna rivers) and then crossing the Pontoon Bridge Number 12 over the Ganga in to Sector 9 to our camp was about 5 km and took us about 2 hours with all the different stops along the way.  We realized later that the rickshaws could have taken us through inside roads towards Daraganj.  from where it would have been a 2 km journey to our camp. The return trip through that route was a much shorter walk.


Our host- Sri Sri 1008 Santa Ashram Dandi Swami Maharaj (disciple of Shankaracharya of Jyotishpith Badrikashram) was waiting for us for a long time at the Pontoon Bridge 12. He was happy to see us arrive, and led us to his camp. While walking, he gave us an introduction to the layout of the Sector and the road network which leads to Sangam. The roads laid out in grid pattern and were wide, leveled and had two metal plates of 2 feet width to facilitate movement of cars and pilgrims. The important roads, although temporary, had names such as Nagvasuki Road, Sangam Marg, Harischandra Road, Tulsi Marg and Shankaracharya Marg. The Sector housed the camps of various Ashrams and Mathas (Hindu monasteries). The camps of the various Akharas (camps of the militant ascetics) were mostly located in Sectors 3 & 4.  Mathas and Akharas are religious congregations and institutions instituted by the ancient Hindu religious leader and Vedanta philosopher Adi Shankaracharya of 7th century AD.

Our Maharaj’s camp was one of the 150 camps inside Dandi Swami Nagar set up by the Dandi Swamis (Brahmin ascetics dressed in saffron robes and carrying a symbolic Dandi or bamboo pole representing Lord Vishnu, while themselves being followers of Lord Shiva). It was a simple camp, with three large tents (called VIP tents) with their private toilets set up at the request of us and another group which would follow us. There were seven smaller tents for the ordinary pilgrims who stay for a longer period and practice prescribed rituals in quest of spiritual salvation. Maharaj had his own tent, where he stayed with two of his young students/disciples. These bright young boys carried out all the chores of the camp at the instruction of their Guru- including conducting the daily prayers and cooking for the guests. Maharaj lodged himself in a simple wooden cot under a shamiyana for most of the day, and met all his visitors there. There was a Shivaling built in the middle of the camp, where prayers are performed daily. Power was available in the camp from 7 pm to 7 am. Water flowed in the tap for the entire day. The drainage and sanitation system was functional. Open air bathing and relieving ourselves in makeshift toilets was a new experience.

Dandi Swami community

Sri Sri 1008 Santa Ashram Dandi Swami Maharaj, with his students


 


After settling down at the camp and an excellent cup of tea prepared by the boys, we started out in search of lunch. We soon realized that it was much easier to find free food than to find decent places where we could pay and eat lunch. The only options were the local varieties of snacks and sweets. Famished as we were, we decided that prudence is the better part of valor and went in to a Langar (free food served to pilgrims in a camp) at a huge camp organized by Dadda’Ji. The unique proposition of this opulent camp was that it had a 25-feet high idol of Shiva in the center, and was pursuing a mission to construct 12.5 million clay Shivlings within the Kumbh Mela time span. The langar had about 800 people sitting down on the floor, waiting patiently for food. Some in our group were “weak-kneed” and had a bit of a struggle lodging themselves on the floor. For all of us it was a huge democratic experience to sit down with people from all socio-economic class and eat together. The simple vegetarian food itself was freshly cooked, served hot and with respect.

 















By afternoon, the record congregation was already starting to happen, with hundreds of thousands of people walking in all directions with various levels of contentment and anxiety. It was amazing how many people lost their way or got separated from their group in the Mela. Ever since we stepped in to the riverfront, we had been hearing missing person announcements. Reports indicate that till February 10, over 275,000 people have been reported to be lost during the Kumbh which includes 97,000 on a single day on Mauni Amavasya of February 10. Till February 11, 123,000 people were still “missing”. The Administration had set up an elaborate network of what they called “Bhole Bhatke Shivir” (Lost & Found Centers) which were constantly making announcements in the regional dialect of the lost visitor in an effort to reunite the families. Some anxious members were heard wailing or shouting themselves hoarse in the microphone in their separation anxiety. Getting lost in childhood and getting reunited dramatically later in life in Kumbh Mela has been a favorite theme of Bollywood movies- starting with the 1967 superhit Ram Aur Shyam. This was the script unfolding live in front of us. I met one such soul- a poor Bihari from Darbhanga district in a tea stall, who looked lost and broke down the moment I asked him if everything was okay. He apparently started from home the previous night, had an arduous journey to the Mela site and was frantically looking for a Saint’s camp armed with only his name, the name of the camp and the contact number. Without the coordinates of the camp, he was going around in circles for the last four hours with his heavy bag. I calmed him down, offered him tea and water which he refused, but continued lamenting about his poor fate. I tried calling the number but it went unanswered. Then I accompanied him to our camp and offered to carry his luggage, at which he was overwhelmed but refused to allow me to do so. Our Maharaj, with his vast knowledge of the people and layout of Kumbh Mela, guided the old man to the route he should take to find his destination. But Maharaj did not like the idea when I discreetly gave some money to the old man, saying he did not trust the Biharis and I should not trust them much either. The citizens of UP and Bihar have never been great friends, I was reminded by the incident!

After a brief nap in the afternoon, we set out to explore the Mela within our Sector. The streets were flooded with light- a no mean feat considering this is normally a dark riverbed which remains under water for 8 months of a year. The Administration has laid an incredible 770 km of electricity lines in the 2000-odd hectare area, with 22,000 street light points and 130,000 private connections within the camp premises; pumping in 30 MVA of electricity to the area. The Mela was vibrant in the evening, with typical village-fair merchandise such as vermilions, traditional ornaments and textile items being sold.






Many people were camped in the open, some of them cooking food. The air was rent with devotional songs, chanting of hymns and religious discourses taking place at various camps; broken intermittently by the public announcement of missing persons. The riverfront was starting to get busy, since the auspicious time window had set in and families were gathering to take the holy dip in the river to avoid the big rush in the morning. A traditional ritual is to pray to the river and float a small leaf bowl with flower and a small camphor lamp in it.



Here’s an idea of the enormity of the Mela and the extent of Administrative machinery which works behind it to make this biggest human event on earth a success. The Mela covers an area of approximately 2000 hectares, and is held in the flood plain of the two largest rivers of India- the Ganga and the Yamuna. The Mela site remains submerged under water till early October. So the entire temporary city with 30 MVA of electricity connection; 156 km of road network; 80,000 KL of drinking water supply through 20,000 connections and 550 km of water pipeline; sanitation facility involving 44,000 toilets; primary healthcare facility with 38 hospitals; law and order involving 85 CCTV cameras and 13,000 police personnel in 30 police stations; 18 temporary pontoon bridges over the rivers; special transportation arrangement with 3600 extra buses and 600 special trains operating from four railway stations to transport pilgrims; food and civil supplies through 200,000 temporary ration cards to camp owners and accommodation for several million people is set up like magic within a span of four months. In a country where two spans of bridges sometimes take years to join, it is an incredible feat to create such a temporary city in the middle of nowhere with a total population inflow of 100 million (peak-day resident population of 30 million), including 1 million international tourists over its 55-day existence, flawlessly once every twelve years. Estimated expenditure for this project is $360 million, which is funded from the Government of India’s allocation to the state government. Substantial business is generated for the hotels, tour operators, airlines and railways in the hinterland- an estimate by industry association ASSOCHAM forecasts the collective figure of business transaction at $2 billion. For scholars interested in how communities emerge, adapt, and succeed, the Kumbh proved irresistible. No wonder therefore that an interdisciplinary team of 50 scholars from Harvard University’s South Asia Institute camped themselves at the Kumbh Mela to study and document the processes behind the success of this “Pop-up Mega City”. The research findings are available in their website: http://southasiainstitute.harvard.edu/kumbh-mela/

We had early dinner of simple roti-rice-daal-sabzi cooked by the boys in our camp and went to bed. The auspicious time for the Shahi Snan (royal bath of the saints) next day was known to be at 5:30 am. Anticipating that we will take over an hour to navigate through the crowd and cover the 3-km stretch to the Sangam (confluence) area, me and my friend woke up at 3:30 am and started our journey amidst dense fog and cold weather bordering at 10 degree Celsius. A part of our group, which was either phobic to intense crowding or was focused on the holy dip at the auspicious moment rather than the journalistic experience, stayed back in the camp. We walked unhindered for about 2 km before the crowd pattern started to be jostling and directions confusing. We needed to find out quickly the route of the Shahi procession and position ourselves strategically, without getting choked in a crowd which will not allow us any photographic experience or retreat options. We regretted inability to do a recce of the site the day before. After some quick conversations with policemen and depending on our instinct, we landed up in the stretch of road along which the royal processions were already moving in towards the Sangam. The crowd was separated from the processions by a bamboo barricade. We positioned ourselves and started clicking photographs.


 It was around 5:15 am and dawn was just breaking. The religious heads of different Asharms, Maths and Akharas were moving in the procession accompanied by their followers and key devotees, in ornately and pompously decorated chariots, which were mostly modified on tractors. Chants of “Har Har Mahadeva” from the crowd rent the air every time an important Guruji rode past.




Meanwhile, the crowd pressure started building up behind us and I started to be dislodged from whatever strategic location I could manage by burly people jostling forward from behind us (Rule 1: Thou shalt not get in to argument in UP with unknown people!). I located a small break in the barricade ahead of me, which was possibly meant to be manned by a policeman. In my survival and journalistic instinct, I pushed my way towards and past the breach. Possibly my Allahabadi politician attire, coupled with the camera and confident “move aside” uttering zapped the crowd ahead who made way for me to exit. I immediately called my friend, who grasped this god-sent opportunity to break free and joined me in no time. And now we were inside the procession route, free to follow the processions. It was like being able to shift from the viewer’s gallery to Janpath to join the Republic Day Parade! We strode confidently along the route towards the Sangam, taking close-up shots of the processions as we passed them. Soon we were at a tri-junction, from where one path will take us to the bathing area of the Saints and the other will take us to the return route where millions of viewers, devotees and journalists were waiting for the processions to pass by after the Royal Bath. In our excitement, confusion and ignorance, we took the second route and landed in the vast open stretch of the Sangam near the Press Tower. It was 6:15 am and the morning sun was now rising in the horizon, basking the vast openness of the riverbank in crimson glory; accentuated by the sea of saffron everywhere. The whole landscape looked magical; the vibes of spirituality was like ocean waves, swaying the sea of humanity like leaves in a tempest. The only feeling that comes to mind is “thank God for giving me this moment”. In words of William Blake, it was “holding Infinity in the palm of your hand and Eternity in an hour”.

Shahi Snan Procession Video, Kumbh; May 10, 2013:



Shahi Snan (Royal Bath of the saints) procession at Sangam, May 10, 2013
 
Crowd at Allahabad Sangam- many foreigners came as devotees of various Ashrams
 
Sangam Area, 6:30 am on Mauni Amavasya of Kumbh Mela- May 20, 2013
 
Royal procession at Sangam
 
 
Panorama of the Sangam Area
 
There was a fair amount of crowd inside the Sangam area too, but it consisted of mostly saints, accredited journalists, security personnel and possibly big donors to the Ashrams. Most of them were displaying some kind of card hung from their neck. We were happily taking pictures of the processions, people and even journalists in their various degrees of exuberance. At this point, I noticed a special security cordon of Police Rapid Action Force being formed and the first wave of Naga Sadhus (naked saints- the centerpiece of attraction of the Kumbh Mela) heading towards the procession route. In my instinct, I ran towards the procession, and within minutes I was embedded within the procession crowd in company of a few other desperate local and Southeast Asian journalists. That desperation turned out to be a moment of truth, since I could stay with the procession for the entire journey and take unprecedented close-up shots of the mythical Naga saints.

First sight of the Naga Sadhus (naked militant ascetics) of Niranjani Akhara 

Naga Saint, with traditional war bugle, Dambru and Trident 

It is believed that just to see the elusive saints who seek God through extreme penance is a matter of great blessing. To be a Naga is a process, which takes many years. The First Stage is called the Mahapurush, the second stage the Avdhoot and the final one is called the Naga.  I found them flamboyant, carefree, happy like children. Some of them had a pleasant demeanor, some others were somewhat fearsome and had intense look.
Ecsatasy of Naga Saints- returning from Royal Bath at Sangam- a very special & much awaited moment for them

Militant Naga Saints, with Trident- Nagas follow the life of their worshipped Deity Lord Shiva


Procession of Naga Saints at Kumb Mela, Allahabad.

As I faced the group with my camera, one Sadhu speared my forehead with the ash he was carrying, as a sign of blessing. The next moment, his peer noticed that I was wearing my sandals and growled at me for standing in their way wearing shoes. Knowing that the Nagas are famous for being unpredictable and fierce, I apologized profusely and stepped aside till this line passed by. I followed the group all the way till they entered their camp in Niranjani Akhara. They were soon followed by another wave of more flamboyant Naga sadhus of Juna Akhara. They displayed martial arts and some bone-chilling penance acrobatics at frequent intervals.

Penance acrobatics demonstrated by the Naga Saints- they train their bodies to be free of feeling of pleasure or pain, in readiness of their militant preparedness

Penance acrobatics demonstrated by the Naga Saints- they train their bodies to be free of feeling of pleasure or pain, in readiness of their militant preparedness

Penance acrobatics demonstrated by the Naga Saints- they train their bodies to be free of feeling of pleasure or pain, in readiness of their militant preparedness

To be face to face with thousands of Naga ascetics and to be able to capture their moods, ecstasy and devotion was a momentous occasion which made every bit of physical hardship worth every moment of it. I stayed with the Naga group and followed them as they made their way to their base camp in Sector 4, and also managed to get one of the group leaders pose with me for a photograph.

Faith
 

When I was done with my photography at the Sangam Road in front of the Akharas, it was around 10:00 am, and the roads were choked with people and processions, to the extent that even walking was difficult. I managed to weave my way through the crowd and met some interesting characters on my way back, including a person from New York who made himself a walking archive of Hindu religious motifs.  Many interesting faces from the crowd and the processions appealed to my camera too.


 



Not a vendor.  There was more to him.  I observed him for an hour after this photo. The Inscrutable Saint.
 


Women saints were less in number but the few present were prominent

 Iscon had a significant presence in the Mela.



I was famished and a bowl of free khichri served outside Nityananda Dhyanapeetham camp on Sangam Marg in Sector 8 saved my soul. However, like a true ungrateful rationalist, the high quality of the ingredients in the offering served to the masses raised questions in my mind about the source of funds.

After reaching our camp and a rejuvenating shower followed by the simple food served for lunch, I slept like a log in the afternoon. In the evening, me and my lone survivor friend explored the Mela locally and visited the riverfront. As a poor compensation of my unreligious act of not taking a holy dip during the auspicious hours of the morning, I touched the river water and put it on my head and forehead, hoping for a mini-salvation.  There was a Yagna (sacrificial fire) going on in our Sector in memory of Indian freedom fighters and soldiers who died in wars.

Pontoon Bridge on Ganga, in the evening


Mahayagna venue in memory of those who laid their lives for the country
 The return trip next morning was a much shorter walk of 2 km, through the narrow lanes in to the maddeningly crowded area of Daraganj in the regular Allahabad city, from where we took a rickshaw to our hotel. We got about an hour to freshen up and check-out. While waiting in the hotel lobby after check-out, I had a chance meeting with Mark Tully. He said this is his fourth trip to Kumbh, and he was there at site the day before to cover the event too.



We reached the station at 7 pm for our train which was scheduled to arrive at 8:30 pm and was as per schedule according to the Railways. However, our train was held back at a station 5 km before Allahabad to make way for the special trains meant to ferry the thousands of pilgrims from the rural areas of UP, Bihar, Jharkhand and Odisha states. At least 8 trains with unreserved compartments were boarded with several thousand pilgrims before our train trudged in to the station at 2 am in the night. There was a stampede at the station the day before, in which 40-odd people lost their lives. It was an administrative failure and a blot in the otherwise impeccable effort of the administration, which had focused all their planning and energy at the Mela site and possibly left open ends in the crowd management at the railway station. On our day of departure, the Railway had deputed large posse of personnel and the police had very senior officers overseeing the entire crowd management.


Special train at Allahabad Railway Station- to send back pilgrims to their villages


















In our informal chat with one of the staff, we were told that there was a lot of anguish and remorse within the administration for the tragic incident the day before. I walked up the three-star officer and in my Bengali-style rounded-off-the-edge Hindi congratulated the police administration for an their super-human effort in managing the Mela. He replied with a no-nonsense crisp Thank You.


 We departed Allahabad soaked with the overwhelming effect of the event but also with a sense of urban relief to be heading back to our comfort zones again.


Thus ended my sojourn from India to Bharat- a time machine ride to ancient India. We got a glimpse of an alternative society where spirituality and social values were the guiding governing principles; where women moved freely at all hours of day and night without any concern for safety; where greater good was achieved through socio-religious practices and institutions therein instead of government welfare schemes; where people connected with other through faith-based community activities rather than Facebook; where Government and law-and-order machinery happily and truly played subservient to the people. This, in contrast to our daily dose of crime/intolerance/misgovernance/advertorial stories in mainstream media leaves an open question on whether India missed the bus in making its 5000-year history of spirituality as the bedrock of its society and governance during its “tryst with destiny” in 1947 and basing itself on a borrowed Westminster system of governance principles instead. The answer lies in the womb of the history of the future!

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

NOLA Rocks!


A quaint city with loads of history and distinctive influence of Europe, Caribbean and Africa, New Orleans (NO) of Louisiana state (LA)- NOLA as affectionately called by the local population- is a charming place for visitors.  Located in the south-central shore of United States, this place is the favorite landfall point for many of the strongest cyclones and hurricanes which develop in the Gulf of Mexico.  The most famous in the recent history was Hurricane Katrina in 2005, which wrecked havoc of epic proportion.  More recently, the Cyclone Isaac in September of 2012 also caused some damage, and people were evacuated from homes.  My colleague was telling me that she opted for the option of evacuating to Houston rather than staying put at the risk of staying without power for days, low food availability and flooding.  At the time of cyclones and hurricanes, one big worry of the residents is whether the roof of the house with hold!  Apparently, there is also a phase of law and order issue during such times. 



It was a short flight from Houson, but it was late and when I landed at the Louis Armstrong airport it was past midnight.  The airport is quite close to the city center, and there are options of taxi which commute for a flat fee of $33 to anywhere in the city center and airport shuttle which charge $20 but hops from one hotel to another, so if you are the last one out you may be have been sitting in the (comfortable) mini-bus for over an hour for the short ride.  Both options are easy to locate and are efficient means of transportation.  

I was delighted when my cab stopped at my designated hotel- Astor Crowne Plaza on Canal Street & Bourbon.  It looked aesthetic and in the heart of the city.  It was past 1 am but the surrounding was abuzz with activity.  Burly and loud people speaking in heavy Southern drawl could be intimidating initially, till you can relax, lower your guard and start forgetting that you are an outsider.  I realized soon that everyone quickly becomes an insider in New Orleans.  
   
Next morning, my work took me to The U.S. Customs House.  The huge building with solid exterior of grey Massachusetts marble and cast-iron entablature spanned a full block.  As I stepped inside, I was immediately impressed by the collection of old marine gadgets displayed all around, the intriguing inner corridors with huge doors enclosing the office spaces.  It had a jail-house ambience and an overall spooky feeling inside.  Indeed, my colleague said that there are confirmed stories of ghosts residing in the building, and the presence have been felt by many who stayed back late.  I later learnt that this is one of the oldest and most important federal buildings in the southern United States and one of the major works of architecture commissioned by the federal government in the nineteenth century.  It is now designated as a National Historic Landmark.  The grand Marble Hall in the center of the building was described as “the finest business room in the world”.  Audubon Butterfly Garden & Insectarium, the largest free-standing American museum dedicated to insects, is now located in this building.
New Orleans was founded as part of the French colony of Louisiana in 1718.  New Orleans was given to the Spanish in 1763 following the Seven Years War.  The Americans gained control of the colony following the 1803 Louisiana Purchase.  New Orleans’ economy in the nineteenth century was similar to other southern cities- based on selling cash crops such as sugar and tobacco. By 1840, newcomers whose wealth came from these industries turned New Orleans into the third largest metropolis in the country.  In today’s world, port and maritime activities, engineering industries and most importantly tourism constitute most of the city’s economy.  Port of New Orleans on Mississippi River is one of the busiest in the country, moving 500 million tons of cargo every year.  The city has created a wonderful niche for itself as a convention city.  The New Orleans Convention Center is one of the largest venues available in United States for trade shows, hosting very large exhibition and conferences on themes ranging from automobiles to funerals.  The show on the latter theme was organized by National Funeral Directors Association, and my colleague was telling me that with coffins and tombstones lying all around, it was not an event for the faint-hearted!  The reason for my visit too was WEFTEC, which is America’s largest water related trade show organized by the Water Environment Federation and had over 1200 exhibitors.  Each such event brings over 10,000 visitors to the city for an average of three days; thereby keeping the hotels, shops and restaurants and other tourism establishments busy for several days in each month.  The heritage French architecture; exotic French, Spanish and local Louisiana cuisine; art; Jazz music and most importantly the “wildness quotient” of the city is a magnet for business visitors and tourists alike. 


New Orleans is a small city of 907 sq km and little over 300,000 population, which shrinks after every large natural disaster and grows again within a few years.  But if Calcutta’s city center of Dalhousie-Esplanade area was curved out as a separate city, there would be many similarities with New Orleans.  The most striking similarity is about the heritage architecture and the ornamental iron castings which adorn the balconies of the French era houses in the famous French Quarters area.  I spend a large part of my weekend daytime in taking pictures of the houses and the balconies in particular.  The intricate craftsmanship of the iron castings used in the balconies was a visual treat to my eyes, particularly in the curved balconies of the houses on corner plots.  The designs were mostly neutral, such as a bunch of grapes with leaves.  And having documented the iron casting designs in Kolkata extensively in the last three years, I can now say with authority that the repertoire of designs of the iron castings found in Kolkata is much larger than what is found in New Orleans.  The style of casting is similar but I did not find any design which is common between Calcutta and New Orleans.  However, the iron casting used in Marble Palace owned by the Mullick family in Calcutta (designed by the French architect Antonio Rinaldi and completed in 1785) is very similar to the style of casting used in New Orleans.

 




 

































The architecture of the old houses otherwise is typical but not hugely impressive.  None of the houses are too big.  The other points of similarity with Calcutta include proximity to river (Mississippi), narrow roads, lots of people merrily crossing the road, much higher proportion of honking than is normally found in American cities, plenty of shops, several poor people, passion for food and trams.  Calcutta can learn much from New Orleans in preserving trams as a means of public and tourist transport.  Here the trams are single compartment, heritage-looking but modern interiors, noiseless, high-speed, moves on dedicated tracks in selected stretches and integrated with bus transport under the common umbrella of Road Transport Authority (a common bus-tram combination ticket can be purchased).  The stops provide safe boarding and aligning facilities for passengers, and tickets are collected by the driver (often a lady) in a ticket vending machine, which even prints a ticket for change due if any and which can be used for any future travel.  I really hope and pray that Calcutta learns from New Orleans, Frankfurt and other such cities which have proudly preserved and used trams as clean and efficient means of urban mass transit. 
 

 
The “wildness quotient” of the tourist part of the city deserves special mention.  Several people have told me, “this is New Orleans- you can pretty much do what you want”.  I got a taste of this when in my very  first morning, I saw a girl breaking out in to a full-throated, trance-like “Hare Rama Hare Krishna” song and dance as she was passing by an Iscon Group singing along the sidewalk. 
 

But the full magnitude of this statement will not be evident until one visits Bourbon Street during the weekends- the main artery of the French Quarter area and the magnet for tourists seeking all-time nightlife high.  And this was a normal weekend- the revelry index shoots many times higher during the carnival season climaxing during Mardi Gras in February-March.  My hotel- Astor Crowne Plaza- was at the entry point of this road; so I could soak up the life of Bourbon Street over the full seven nights of my stay.  When the city’s streets were designed by the royal engineer in 1721 and the streets were being named after French royal houses and Catholic saints, Bourbon Street paid homage to France's ruling family, the House of Bourbon.  In 1788, a major fire destroyed 80 percent of the city's buildings.  The Spanish rebuilt many of the damaged buildings, which are still standing today.  For this reason, Bourbon Street and the French Quarter display more Spanish than French influence.  Chances are, you will be greeted by a jazz and brass band playing at the corner of Bourbon and Canal Streets.  This “To Be Continued” jazz and brass band was formed by a group of young boys in 2002, and became immensely popular.  The upper end of Bourbon Street near Canal Street is home to many of the French Quarter's strip clubs. These include Rick's Cabaret, Temptations, and Larry Flynt's Barely Legal Club.  Among the other tourist attractions are bars, restaurants and souvenir shops.  


 











A part of this street also caters to New Orleans' thriving gay community. Cafe-Lafitte-In-Exile is the oldest gay bar in the country. I got some pictures of weirdly dressed people in this area. 
 


It is fun to walk in Bourbon Street in the evening- the crowd is in celebratory mood, many walking with a super-large container of drink.  We came across two girls, young and good-looking,  who wore practically nothing but body paint of the logo of the wildly-popular New Orleans Saints team and were walking the Street to collect tips.  Needless to say, tips were raining on them and they were also happily posing for photographs.  We could also see the Mardi Gras spirit in action- the custom of throwing trinkets from the balconies to the people passing below.  Some girl groups were quite insistent about the "Throw Me Something Mister", and the men on the balconies negotiated well and managed to have some of the girls flash before they showered the girls with trinkets.  To capture the full spectacle, one needs to visit on the date of Mardi Gras which is 46 days before Easter.  During the 12 days preceding Mardi Gras, more than 60 parades and hundreds of private parties, dances and masked balls are annually scheduled in the metro area. Fat Tuesday is a legal holiday in New Orleans, a day when half the town turns out in costume to watch the other half parade!

 
 
New Orleans was the birthplace of Jazz.  It was considered an expression of freedom, of jubilation.  The music form evolved from within, and quickly flourished through the creative geniuses of Buddy Bolden, Nick LaRocca, Louis Armstrong and several others.  One of the more distinguished aspects of New Orleans culture is the jazz funeral- a practice which traces its roots back to Africa.  The city has many jazz clubs- some of the more famous ones are House of Blues and Bombay Club in French Quarter area.  We heard that there is another area- the Frenchman Street- is quaint and vibrant with jazz music.  This was our chance to see another part of the city outside the routine French Quarter, so we hopped in to a cab and after a short ride reached what looked like a residential neighborhood.  The street was lined with several restaurants, clubs and pubs- each advertising the live performances scheduled during the week.  It was Monday and relatively quiet.  We checked out the Blue Nile Club, but they did not have a performance on that day.  But we found that Maison on 508 Frenchman Street rocking with music and bustling with clients.  We managed to get a table and settled down.  The tables were full, the music was soulful, the musicians were lively and the crowd was discerning- applauding every piece of good performance.  At times, the young lady who was the lead musician stepped down from the dais and walked up to the tables to collect tips- the guests contributed generously.  The good food and drink tasted even better in the cheerful ambience.    

  

 






















No discussion on NOLA is complete without a note on food and drink.  The cuisine here is distinctive and robust, unlike most places in U.S.  The food follows two broad likes- Cajun and Creole.  Cajun is country-style food, a combination of French and Southern cuisines and consists of heavy, one-pot dishes, like Jambalaya (sausage, vegetables and a variety of meats and/or seafood) or crawfish étouffée, served over steaming rice.  Creole food is created in New Orleans with European and African roots.  The French influence is strongest, but the essence of Creole is found in rich sauces, local herbs, red ripe tomatoes, and the prominent use of seafood, caught in local waters.  It is associated with the old-line kitchens of New Orleans, where generations of traditions are carried on today.  The most popular one is Gumbo- okra simmered for hours in a stock made as rich as possible using a variety of meats, onions, celery and bell peppers. Served over rice, variations include seafood gumbo with shrimp, oysters and crabmeat, or chicken gumbo with andouille sausage.  Both foods make liberal use of chopped green peppers, onions and celery.  The other popular dishes are Red Beans and Rice, Po Boy (long, submarine-style French bread piled high with meat such as roast beef, catfish or oysters), Shrimp Creole (freshly peeled shrimp), Muffuletta (sandwich filled with salami, ham, provolone and olive spread).  Alligator meat is quite popular- supply chain assured from the swamps surrounding New Orleans.  I passed the incitement to try it- I am told it is tender and tasty.  I loved all the places we ate in, but I remember with particular fondness the Red Fish Grill on Bourbon Street- a traditional, family-owned restaurant serving authentic and fresh New Orleans cuisine with style and pride.  The food in Farmers Market was fun too.  The coffee shops and confectioners are also very much part of the food experience.  Café Du Monte on Decatur St. across Jackson Square is the pilgrimage among the coffee shops, being the original French Market coffee stand serving cafe au lait and beignets (fried dough coated with powdered sugar) since 1862.  Praline (almonds coated with cooked sugar and cream) reigns supreme among the confectionery products.  Being endowed with a traditional Bengali sweet tooth, I simply loved the Pralines.  Much like food, the drink options in New Orleans is also wild, robust and cheerful.  Hurricane is one of the most popular.  It is a sweet, juice-filled bright red rum drink and served in a tall glass.  Apparently, the drink derived its name from the shape of the iconic glass resembling a hurricane lamp.  The other popular drink (apart from beer) on Bourbon Street is named Hand Grenade.  The proprietors keep the ingredients of this neon green drink a secret, only calling it the most powerful cocktail on Bourbon Street.  It comes served in a custom plastic yard glass, tinted green and shaped like a grenade at the bottom.        
 
 


 
Overall, New Orleans is a complete fun city, with loads of character.  It embraces the serious travelers and revelers with equal warmth.  The mix of fun, food, architecture, music, art ensures there is something for everyone.  Very few cities in U.S. can match up with the unique personality of this quaint city.  The waves of history have etched indelible marks, and have enriched the city and its population with something new, something better and something different.  NOLA just rocks!