The canal seems to impress kaleidoscope continuously. As he had already showed how the canal transformed from it's Wilder appeal to a more domesticated kitsch, today he could spot a fisherman with his fishing net (khyapla jal in bangla) standing silently and waiting for the fishes to appear in the shallow water.
"We used to get so many different kinds of fishes here... The canal used to have connections to the nearby wetlands and fishing water bodies. The quality of water was also good. There used to be a tall palm tree - the spot where we used to place single valve fishing traps... I came today with an expectation to catch a few not so 'elite' fishes." The man with a net tells slowly.
Didn't you get to work today - Kaleidoscope asked. ''I didn't get a wage work today in the construction site so I thought of giving it a chance".
Kaleidoscope could see 'ambuja cement' written on the t-shirt he was wearing. Yes, it does tell a story of the man with a net and like many others facing an uncertain and unpredictable future. A future with cement dust, long working hours, no social security benefits- loud noise and cheap country liquor. It's perhaps much wiwor than the people who built up pyramids.
As kaleidoscope looks onwards he finds a glassy architecture of the postmodern consumer's extravaganza on his right side (quite significantly so) and similar glassy college building competing with the architecture, perhaps complementing the rootless and fleeting appearances of depthless presents.
Meanwhile as he walks pass the canal side road, he hears the sound of fallen leaves of times. Leaves that conceals stories of an infinite library.