Song of Kali

**Quick Aside: For the record, I’m not endorsing Simmons extremely negative portrayal of Calcutta (I’ve never been there) and my praise is for the effectiveness of Simmons' writing while ignoring any judgments on the accuracy thereof.

‘The marshy fields of darkness that had bordered the highway gave way suddenly to a jumble of shacks that came right up to the shoulder of the road. [...] Seemingly without transition we were out of the country and winding through narrow, rain-filled streets that twisted past blocks of derelict high-rises, miles of tin-roofed slums, and endless vistas of decaying, blackened storefronts.’ (p. 26)

‘It began to rain again. The sudden downpour beat at the metal of the bus like fists from the dark sky. Only the driver’s side of the windshield had a wiper, and it moved sluggishly against the curtain of water that soon put a veil between the city and us.’ (p. 28)

‘The scene was almost comical in its mad intensity. Pedestrians, flotillas of bicycles, oriental-looking rickshaws, automobiles, flatbed trucks adorned with swastikas, countless motorbikes, and creaking bullock carts all vied for our narrow lane of torn-up pavement. Cattle wandered freely, blocking traffic, poking their heads into shops, and wading through heaps of raw garbage which were stacked on curbs or piled in the center of the street. At one point the refuse lay knee-deep for three blocks, lining the street like a dike. Human beings also waded through it, competing with the cattle and crows for edible bits.

Farther on, schoolgirls in prim white blouses and blue skirts crossed the street in single file while a brown-belted policeman held up traffic for them. [...]The sweet smell of incense and sewage came in through the open window of the car. [...] And everywhere was the unceasing movement of brown-skinned humanity – an almost tidal flow of jostling, white- and tan-garbed population which seemed to make the very air heavy with its moist exhalations.’ (p. 35)

‘Somewhere closeby [sic], a toilet flushed explosively’. (p. 31)

‘Suddenly a white-smocked retainer appeared from the shadows and distributed chipped cups heavy with sugar, clotted buffalo milk, and a little tea.’ (p. 36)

‘Her voice was as high and shrill as a saw moving on metal. The irritable, nasal tones clashed with her dignified appearance.’ (p. 37)

‘He was tall and skinny, wearing dirty brown trousers and a white shirt that looked gray and grimy in the green fluorescent lighting. His face was relatively young – late twenties, perhaps – and clean-shaven, but his black hair stood out in great electric tufts and his dark, piercing eyes gave an impression of such intensity that it bordered on a sense of restrained violence. His eyebrows were dark brush strokes that almost met above a falcon’s predatory beak.’ (p. 22)