The Reality of My Dreams

Today was one of those days where I just wanna take hold of Kolkata and scream at her. This is a very rough city and it gets to you after awhile, especially when it gets hot. Being that today was Saturday I really just wanted to chill out and have a nice relaxing day. Of course thats almost an impossible task to accomplish in this city. 

 
The day started at 8am with my door bell waking me up. I heard it ring once and figured I would ignore it as I really didn't care who was on the other end, especially at 8am. However it rang a second time, then a third, then a fourth, and so on. After the 5th try it became this incessant, non stop ringing, like it was an emergency. So I got out of bed and stormed to the door and opened it yelling , "WHAT!". On the other side was this man who jumped back with eyes wide open. Not sure if it was because he didn't expect a white person to open the door or because I was yelling. Probably a little of both. And what did this guy want? To sell me a water filter! AT 8AM ON A SATURDAY! All I could do was just yell "NO" and slam the door in his face I mean really if you're going to go door to door at least do it at a reasonable hour and don't ring the door bell over and over again. Not the best way to make a sale my friend. 
 
I crawled back into bed and thankfully fell back to sleep after about 10 minutes or so. When I finally woke up for good I decided to head down to an area of Kolkata called Park Street. They have this great book store called Oxford that I love and I also wanted to visit the Park Street Cemetery, which is one of the most calm and peaceful places in the city. Almost always empty and very gothic. I love it there. This seemed like a good plan at the time but the other thing to know about Park Street is that it's also a major tourist spot and with that comes a ton of beggers and people trying to scam you out of money. I had been there many times before and have kinda learned how to deal with all, but of course today had to be different. 
 
As soon as I arrived and got out of the cab I was mobbed by several kids and elderly people yelling that they wanted money or food or both. As I always do I just kept walking, ignoring their pleas and trying to get to the bookstore as fast as possible. What made this time more challenging then others is that they were much more aggressive than usual. They would stand in front of me, pull on my bag and grab my arm. I try to never get loud or yell at them because no matter how annoying they are they're still young kids and old women so a part of me just doesn't think it's right. However sometimes you do have to get rude or else they'll never stop messing with you. 
 
I think to myself that I handle these experiences pretty well and I think on the outside I do. However, I think my subconscious absorbs most of it and compartmentalizes. Every single night I have vivid, realistic dreams that are just crazy and bizarre and many times scary. They're not really nightmares but the kind of dreams that seem so real that when you wake up you think, "wow, a dream...thank God!". 
 
I think this is one way my mind deals with all these images. It's very hard to see these people day in and day out and not give them money or food, but I've been conditioned to believe that most of them are scam artists trying to take you for a ride. Or even worse, trafficked victims that will have to give all the food and money they get from people to their "owners". I tell myself these things because it makes it easier for me to say no and keep walking. But there is a part of me that also realizes that in a city like Kolkata there will have to be many people that are the real deal. Begging for food or money because they have no other way to obtain either. It eats at me sometimes because you can never really know the truth and it's better to be on the safe side. There are times however when it hits me that I could very easily be in their shoes. And if I were how hard it would be for people to look at me and keep walking and not help. There is so much suffering here right out in the open. Children, elderly, handicapped, diseased, stray animals, all in need of help, and with very few people actually paying attention. 
 
I spent a good hour in the bookstore just wandering around and looking at all the books and seeing which ones I wanted to buy. I love going in bookstores. Being surrounded by books makes me feel so content and at ease. I could just spend all day in them reading and reading. There was this book I found that details the sacred animals of India and the mythology surrounding them. I picked it up, read the first chapter and was hooked so I bought it. 
 
As soon as I stepped out of Oxford the mob was at me all over again. There was the group of 7 year old's ragged, and malnourished crying and putting their hands to their mouths to tell me they were hungry. Then there was the woman with the newborn baby in her arms both of whom looked like they hadn't eaten in weeks. The baby was crying and wailing while she put it up in my face and the smell of horrid b.o. and feces almost knocked me off my feet. I managed to get away from them and was preparing to cross the street when this young guy came up to me and stood right in front of me and said "Hi, Sir". He was wearing ripped up pants, no shirt and no shoes and the few teeth he had left were almost black. His breath smelled like a sewer and he reached his hand out for me to shake it. I took one of his fingers and shook it and he asked me where I was from. Now this is a common ruse that street people use to either distract you or get you to feel sorry for them. The idea is if you know their name and have a few words with them than you're more than likely to give them money. I told him I was from the US and he said, "Ah, US is beautiful place" as if he had once been there. I knew where this was going so I immediately canceled my trip to the cemetery and hailed a cab which was coming up to me. I got in the cab and the whole time this guy is grabbing on the door yelling, "Sir, food please...no food in days...please sir food". I told the cab driver to just drive away and he did. 
 
I thought I was out of the woods with all that but as soon as we came to the stoplight a young girl selling incense came to my window and tried to sell me some. She had the sad, desperate look on her face they all have and was just repeating "please uncle, please uncle, please uncle" as she touched her hand to her mouth, again miming that she wanted food (or more accurately money to buy food). In the lane next to me was a bus full of kids in their twenties and as soon as they saw this they seemed to think it was funny some how and they all started pointing at me and laughing. I just smiled at them and kept saying no to the girl. The light changed and we started to drive away. The cab driver heard me sigh and then looked in the rear view mirror and chuckled, "Tough to be white in India". Without skipping a beat I said to him, "not as tough as it is to be Indian in India". He stopped chuckling.  
 
I think without the dreams I would go insane. The funny thing is that in some of the dreams I am insane. Every night it's the same thing. Chaos, craziness, evil and despair. I've learned to expect it now and just roll with it. My dreams may be hard, but in Kolkata reality is even harder. 
 
Namaskar!