Morning starts on the Hooghly River, with ferries nosing under the steel frame of Howrah Bridge. By midday the city has moved to College Street, where secondhand books climb the walls of tiny stalls and debates fill the Indian Coffee House. At dusk, a kati roll comes hot off the griddle and gets eaten standing up.
Further in, the potters of Kumartuli shape clay goddesses in narrow lanes, and every neighborhood has its own club, sweet shop and favorite argument. Winters are mild and dry, and the monsoon soaks the city from June to September. When your list runs out, a Local Friend picks the next stop, maybe a ghat at sunset or their grandfather's favorite sweet shop.
