Song of my father: On the Trans-Europe Express to India | Music | Al Jazeera

A young man stepped into the hall of mirrors
Where he discovered a reflection of himself

Sometimes he saw his real face
And sometimes a stranger at his place"

- Kraftwerk, Hall of Mirrors

In the spring of 1971, my 26-year-old father would spend his Friday mornings at Kolkata's crowded train station and empty airport. A bright-eyed university student, he would skip a weekly class, and sport the widest of smiles to pick up surly, fussy South Indian classical musicians - chaperoning them around the city to play at music festivals he had helped organise.

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