They call it Burrabazar. I call it The Place Where Things Are Called All Wrong. But it wouldn't be Burrabazar if not for that, would it?

It calls Sunny Footwear shop Sunee footwear shop, which is technically the Urdu word for Empty. Which makes it strangely ironic because the sunee/soona jutor dokaan was filled wid mamunis of all shapes and jutor sizes.

I'm not as poetic as Ms. Nayar and among the Benaras-like serpentine lanes of Burrabazar in the myriad chumkied satins and silks I scarcely see beauty. But sometimes its difficult to ignore. It's a D-SLRs delight I guess. And for foreigner on a Discover India nanga bachcha tour, its probably paradise.

I remember there was a frantic auto ride with 750 worth thermocol on our heads. And the Talli Gallis of Mullickbazar with rundown cars for posterpurposes.

For me it was strangely surreal and playhousey. Not that almost everything in the last 3 weeks hasn't been that.

And more.

Special Mention: The Coondoos.