Calcutta could be a suffocating place of madness, and every once in a while one had to get out to breathe, relax and look into any given direction without seeing ten and a half faces per square foot. The easiest way out was by motor-cycle. Almost everyone I knew had one, preferably one of the Enfield models. I even had two, one for my everyday use and another for any of my numerous guests who came to visit me in the city of joy. Getting out of town for a couple of hours on weekends would be like a short vacation, recuperation guaranteed. Rural West Bengal is not crowded in comparison to the constriction of the city, so the alleged loneliness was recovery for the mind, a spa for the overstrained European soul.

As soon as we hit the countryside the regeneration started. Trees, grass, bushes, anything

green was a sense of well-being for the eyes, albeit we were never completely alone.

Walkers, cyclists and even other motorists would stop and watch us. Their curiosity was persevering,

whatever their daily plans were, everything could wait for as long as it had to.

Sometimes this led to some interaction, a small conservation, a drink of tea or a shrine sightseeing.

Not everyone could speak English as it was just one of a few official languages. The main

language in West Bengal is Bengali which I in turn couldn´t speak.

This is a ferry landing for the crossing of one of the Ganges tributaries near the Indo-Bangladeshi border.

The ferry only works when the tide sets in, here we see a low-tide with most

people crossing the river by foot.

Work place and home. The base of fishermen and ferry workers in a temporary dry-dock situation.

The public transport buses: a curse and a blessing. And a source of danger for all. When they approach, everybody else, no matter wether pedestrian, cyclist or motorist, has to look for cover next to the road strip, if need be, even in the ditch. Bus drivers are oblivious of anything else on the road, braking a Karma interpretation in this world of constant rebirth. These buses are mostly simple self-made wood constructions covered by a layer of thin metal. The very frequent accidents have according results. 

A childs life. On the way to or from work, or probably at work. Our meeting a welcome chance for a rest.

The bicycle is still a form of mass transportation in rural parts of India.

Iconic Indian engineering.

The India Gallery