The bus drove fifteen kilometers to the north before heading east bringing out hard won ride to an abrupt end. After another hour in the sun we hitched a ride with a lorry driver who spoke little English but was happy to have us along as a novelty. We proceeded along for another ten kilometers until we encountered a roadblock complete with large rock cairns and bonfires. Stern looking political ideologues blocked traffic while apathetic policemen wisely stood on the sidelines staying out of trouble. A line of trucks a half a kilometer long was backed up behind this formidable obstacle. By the time we arrived on the scene most of the drivers had already given up arguing and sought the nearest shade for an extended nap. Luckily for our group we had been picked up by a driver keen to be on his way. After cursing under his breath he pulled the rig around and headed south until a narrow track appeared off to the right. We proceeded to carve a wide circle around the roadblock on a single lane track cut through cane fields ready for harvesting.

Our detour through the fields abruptly ended as we entered into a small market town. We stopped here for cold drinks and to reconnoiter the possible routes into the city, I was a little turned around by our tour through the fields but I figured that we had to be within twenty kilometers of Calcutta. After an hour of mulling around the little bazaar our driver returned with some bad news. All I could glean from his pantomime conversation is that we had hit the end of the line. In my own research around the village I discovered a roadblock at the end of town manned by the police of a small barracks. A rotund police captain interrupted the meditation of his large belly to confirm my assumption that "yes we were near Calcutta" and that "yes, no trucks will be allowed to travel ". The captain couldn't understand my interest in getting to Calcutta. He kindly suggested that I take some tea with him and his buddies and relax for a while. I declined his offer and reported back to the gang that we were close and perhaps we should attempt walking.

Our decision to walk was a crazy considering we had no firm idea as to the direction or distance to the city. We followed the main route out of the village and began walking down along a wide abandoned road. One hundred yards beyond the roadblock on the edge of we found ourselves in rural West Bengal. The road was lined with palm trees and other wide leaf tropical plants. The temperature hovered in the mid?nineties the air was thick with stifling humidity. It was difficult to tell if the road was well traveled under normal conditions. On the day of the bandh, not a single truck, car, bike or bullock cart could be seen.