Ritam Ghosh 1 Camille’s journey to Kolkata begins under the oppressive weight of the city’s humid air, which clings to her skin like a second layer of consciousness. As she steps out of the train at Howrah station, the cacophony of honking taxis, shouting vendors, and the rhythmic clatter of the tracks overwhelms her senses. The air smells of sweet smoke from nearby tea stalls, mingled with the faint metallic tang of the river water, and for a moment, she feels suspended between fascination and disorientation. Every turn of the bustling platform offers a new sight: porters balancing impossibly large…
