Kolkata never fails on a Sunday. Today was no exception.
There I was doing the routine commute from the library to SK's home, when something whizzed past.
A large bird? A small plane flying low? Superman?
It ... was ... an ... old ... man (atleast 80) in white pajama and shirt, black cap and gogles (the sort old war movie pilots sport) on a motor bike (vintage variety), with his wife (also in summer white) in the side car and their elderly daughter (I told you the man was old) on the pillion.
And no, he wasn't putt-putting past. Shoulders up, body leaning forward, he was fairly zooming past! We could only stare agape, amazed!