For years and years, even during the time of my first visit in 1962, it has been said that Calcutta was dying, that its port was silting up, its antiquated industry declining, but Calcutta hadn't died...
As they were walking, a beggar came up, holding his hand out and crying, Baksheesh! Baksheesh!Mike kept on going but Mitchell stopped. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out twenty paise and placed it...