Ethics

Author: Varsha Seshan  City: Kolkata, India

Pierre and Julie looked around, delighted. I looked at them, shaking my head. Pierre’s green eyes under his crazy cowboy hat were narrow; his face crinkled into a smile.

The river was to our right, and the bank was lined with chai stalls, stalls selling magic animal bones, and men trying to attract crowds to watch their snakes dance. Nimtala ghat had everything a foreigner wanted to see in India.

A little ahead was the cremation ground, concealed from the main road by a white wall and more stalls. Beyond that was the temple and opposite the temple were the stalls selling jalebis, luchis and something else that that even I could not identify.

“This is the real India, isn’t it?” asked Julie, in her thick French accent. I had finally brought them to the exotic India they wanted, not one with wide paved roads and air-conditioned malls.