chennai & kolkata: where the sun bleeds into the sea at 3 am

i just checked and it's 22.59°C. feels like 23.28, whatever that means-humidity’s so thick it’s wearing a sauna mask. opened my camera lens and it fogged up instantly. thought my gear was gonna melt into a puddle. but hey, i’m here. chennai and kolkata. two cities that don’t care if you’re alive or dead. neighbors? oh, right. Bangalore’s tech bros are 200km north sipping matcha lattes. Kolkata’s street food stalls are 60km east tossing puppies out of open windows. total vibe killers.



walked past a 300-year-old bookstore the other day. someone told me the owner sells books with pages missing-either cuz he’s a pirate or cuz he’s allergic to commitment. next to it, a biker with a helmet full of plants swears the walls whisper recipes. I’d laugh, but I’m too busy dodging monsoon ghosts. locals say the rain here doesn’t fall, it just… chooses. not a fan.



felt like I’d been shot by a rubber bullet. woke up in a hostel dorm wondering if the guy snoring six feet away was a snail in disguise. grabbed my camera and wandered into the chaos. took a pic of a street vendor selling umbrellas shaped like sparrows. one of ’em fluttered off into the gutters cause the wind had it out. added a link to that "Hidden Gem Uncle’s Tea Joint" in chennai from tripadvisor-read the reviews, they’ll tell ya the samosas are alive. linked to kolkata’s "19th-century Scotch Whiskey Museum" on yelp. spoiler: it’s closed. probably waiting for the ghosts to sort their pending bar tab.



noticing things here’s like trying to photograph a squid in a thunderstorm. every light source is a lie. tried shooting the sun through a window and the flashlights turned into little green frogs. messed up all the settings. ended up with a shot that’s 50% lens flare, 50% existential dread. added to my shots list: "1. proving thunderstorms hate me. 2. proving kolkata’s rickshaws are sentient. 3. proving chennai’s garbage dumps have better crowd control than my Instagram."



map’s gonna lie, but here’s the chaos.found a street artist in kolkata who paints faces with turmeric. she said chennai’s "Temple Street" smells like old coconuts and regret. asked for a photo. her camera died. I offered her mine. she took a selfie and edited it with her grandma’s phone. collab, right?



if you’re someone who likes people, leave. if you like scorpions and monsoons that go on dates with your WiFi, stay. I heard the underground river here swallows coffee shop tables. true story. someone told me the barista at "Moonlight Café" only serves espresso brewed with tears. tried it. tastes like regret and cinnamon.



photos not loading? probably the WiFi’s crying too. kolkata’s "Street Art Museum" has a mural of a guy screaming into a megaphone. I yelled back. it screamed louder. mutual respect. chennai’s "Dakshina Kali Temple" has a flag that moves in the wind. not a real flag. a banana leaf. very jealous.



listed some shit: ~Camera gear: Fujifilm X100VI, lens fogged up. ~Hostel vibe: snails, existential dread. ~Local tip: don’t trust the giants selling coconuts. probably tax evaders. ~Neighboring cities: kolkata’s rickshaws want your soul. chennai’s beaches want your toes. ~Weather: like the ocean is hiccupping and forgot to swallow the sky.



saw a guy in a sari selling wifi hotspots out of a rickshaw. asked how much. said, "50 rupees. but if u ask nicely, I’ll chuck in a coconut hate speech." not sure if that’s a joke or a service. added to notes: "Wifi vendors need a union. kolkata’s rickshaws need a therapist."



Cupped some black tea. 91% humidity made it taste like soup. spilled it on my passport. now it’s got a tan line. chennai’s "Temple Street Lights" have names. I asked one. it said, "I’m called sundare, like beautiful. but my bulb’s dead. we all are."



if you’re waiting for a happy ending, keep scrolling. this is real life. it’s 3 am. chennai and kolkata. they don’t care. the sun bleeds. the rain hates. the WiFi sneaks home early. I’m still here. took a pic of my lap. it’s full of monsoon ghosts. added a link to kolkata’s "Corey of Arts" on yelp-read the reviews, they’re just a dude arguing with a seagull.



p/s: if you hear a drone above chennai, it’s me. I’m flying my camera drone to escape this humidity. I think it’s judging me. maybe it is. p/s: kolkata’s Street Art Museum? gone. replaced by a laundromat. something about loyalty to the mundane.



end rant. tags: chennai, kolkata, photography, humidity, existential dread, weird cities

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