The Indian Museum in Kolkata is located in downtown Calcutta, on Park street. In Bengali, it is called Shaheb -er Para which translates to ‘neighborhood of the Englishmen’. The street runs through what used to be the deer park (hence the name, Park street) of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Calcutta between 1773 to 1789, Sir Elijah Impey. The street is famous for its clubs and restaurants since the British era. Many famous musicians even began their career at one of the clubs on this street.

From the outside, you really can’t make out how big the complex is inside. On either side of the unimpressive gates to the museum is a busy street market. Stalls covered with tarpaulin sheets selling snacks, clothes, plastic toys, souveniers and other knick-knacks lined the sidewalk providing only a narrow space for walking through.

The ticket to the museum is extremely cheap at Rs 75 for adults and Rs 20 for children below 5. Stepping into the museum after the busyness of the street outside, felt like stepping into a time machine that transports you to a forgotten era. In the entrance foyer there were stone sculptures dating back to the 2nd century BC. 20 galleries with findings of excavations done all across India and Gandhar (the present day Kandahar region in Afghanistan) along with gifts given during the time to the then princes and the British are on display. Founded in 1814, it is the largest multipurpose museum in the Asia-Pacific region.

We did not see all the galleries but I’m glad we got to at-least see the archaelogical findings gallery, the human evolutions gallery, Bharhut gallery and Gandhara gallery (that has scultures showcasing the life of Buddha). It wasn’t for lack of time that we didn’t explore the remaining galleries such as the Decorative art gallery (that has a huge collection of ivory and paintings and Tibetan artefacts) and the Textile gallery among others but with no airconditioning and only huge table fans kept here and there around the galleries, the heat was unbearable. The July humidity ran in rivulets down our backs and faces, making it a cumbersome experience.

There were a few areas in the museum such as the Bharhut gallery which has the red sandstone remnants of the Bharhut stupa that was excavated by Alexander Cunningham in 1873, where photography is prohibited.

Col Colin Mackenzie, a Scottish army officer, spent four decades in India, during which he recorded his findings that became a treasure for historians and anthropoligists. It was he who ensured Amravati got recognized as India’s second oldest capital city. The above excavation was from Amravati.

The Gandhara gallery is filled with sculptures depicting the life of Buddha and Buddha in different poses.

It’s hard to imagine how the sculptors sculpted these figures with so much detailing 2ooo years ago with the most basic tools.
The below is the door in the gallery that leads to the lawn outside. The museum is built in a way that it encloses an open courtyard in the centre. The galleries open to the quadrangle.

You don’t see the below view from the entrance to the museum. When you step out of the gallery the green lawn and the blue sky is a welcome sight. The high ceiling of the galleries and the opening into the courtyard may have been made to allow movement of air in an out of the gallery and to keep it as cool as possible.

We stepped out of the museum sweaty and sticky, and desperately in need of a cool place to sit. Google maps showed us that Trincas was a ten-minute walk away. Trincas is a restaurant and nightclub. It was where Usha Uthup, an Indian pop, jazz, and playback singer, famous for her distinctive loud, baritone voice and for her attire. She wore silk saris with flowers on her hair and sported a big bindi on her forehead and sang jazz and pop songs. The food at the restaurant was delicious. We had chelo kebabs, butter rice and lemon soda.

After a satisfying lunch, we visited Mother House (Mother Teresa’s house of charity where she lived and breathed her last). Google maps said it would take us 20 minutes by foot. A heavy shower while we were in the restaurant had lowered the temperatures and made walking pleasant. It gave us an opportunity to see Park Street in a way that we wouldn’t have been able to had we taken a cab. The problem arose when we arrived at the entrance of an impoverished neighborhood. But having reached that far, there was no point in turning back as the map said, Mother House was only 7 minutes away. We were met with stares telling us that we were intruders. I was a little nervous as it was just me and the girls. And the only thing that kept me going was the faith that Mother House was so close by and that the Mother would have touched these people’s lives and it would have made them kinder or more accepting of people like us.
At the end of the street was the Mother House, a modest looking grey building. Had we taken the cab, we would have reached it through the main road.

The entrance is on the side of the building and just as we reached it, we saw a group of foreigners leaving the place. The sisters at the missionary were at the entrance and they smiled at us kindly as we entered. One of them told us to first see Mother’s room, as it looked like it would rain again and the steps leading to the room did not have a roof above. In the courtyard was a handpump at which a few other nuns were standing filling buckets of water. The life at the missionary is austere with no comforts. “The members of the congregation take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience along with a 4th additional but the most important of all the vows of giving “wholehearted selfless and free service to the poorest among the poor”.

The services of the missionaries include hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis, soup kitchens, children’s- and family-counselling programmes, orphanages and schools, and are aided by the co-workers and volunteers. Visiting the Mother House is more like a pilgrimage rather than tourism.

We climbed the fifteen steps to Mother Teresa’s room which housed a single wooden cot, a table at which she sat and read and replied to her daily mail and a table fan. It was where she breathed her last. After visiting the small museum which houses books, photographs and the Mother’s articles, we visted her tomb which is in the same complex, and sat there for a while to pay our respects. People come there to offer prayers, meditate or just remind themselves of the good and what truly matters in life.

We took a cab back to the hotel from Mother House, happy that we had been granted the opportunity to visit this place made holy by her.

This post has been written for the Thursday Doors challenge hosted by Dan Antion. This is a weekly challenge for people who love doors and architecture to come together to admire and share their favorite door photos, drawings, or other images or stories from around the world.

With this ended another day of our stay in Kolkata. To read the previous post, you can click here.

If you enjoyed reading about Kolkata, be sure to check this space for more.

Last but not the least, here’s a map showing some of the archaelogical sites of India. I took a picture of it at the museum. It’s fun to see the places I’ve visited so far and the ones I need to go to. I like lists and this gives my travels in India a reason. You guessed right. This now is a new bucket list I’ve added to my existing list.
I’ve been to five of the places mentioned below : Sarnath, Elephanta, Madurai, Kanyakumari and Mahabalipuram. I’ve shared three of them on the blog earlier. I visited the last two long before I began blogging.

I’m linking this post to Jo’s Monday walk challenge.

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