!ncredible India!

I thought of documenting my India trip, so here I am. Blessed be my old man, for his contacts let me travel in executive class both ways - that’s why I can sit here with no one around me in an aircraft in the upper deck whilst it’s a concentration camp down there.

I left behind a beautiful sea breeze in El Segundo on a Friday night, sometimes the salt laden air floats across from the pacific that’s only a mile or two. The temperature around 19 C and that lovely salt smell. On the plane before taking off from LA, a phone conversation with AB and my attention was drawn to the drawbacks of sitting in executive class:
1. Old male stewards in lieu of young air hostesses
2. No company to make an impression on. All you have are old people, as it takes a man certain age to get himself into executive class. Worse, you might have just empty space beside you.
I decided he was a jealous boob like all other men and told him I would catch up later. Indian steward seemed to apologetic and rude alternatively and I eventually gave up trying to be in tune with his emotions.

Frankfurt – As I get nearer to India, the changes were obvious. An excess of people, a lack of restrooms, people struggling to get in front of others and forgotten definitions of a line etc. Already getting used to old times!

Landed in Gurgaon, nothing worth mentioning except the great heat and humidity and the dusty haphazard roads. Its not new to me, but I must explain it to myself. Roughly, traffic moves by approximations in India. In the sense that you inch your way into traffic so that the opposing driver is forced to a dead stop or a barely moving situation, and then you can happily wade across. I am impressed by this feature because:
a) Accidents are minimal. Even if they happen, they are low speed most times and hence not a cause of big worry.
b) You don’t have to wait at stop signs and waste time. Imagine a place where everybody has right of way at the same time.
c) Continuous honking by you and your fellow drivers builds a certain camaraderie and feeling of well being that is completely absent in other countries.

Moving on, another feature of India now are the malls. Rich and poor, notorious and the famous all flock to the malls everyday. I think its mainly the free air-conditioning that is otherwise hard to afford all the time. Prices are the same (no subsidies at Nike) but the stores still seem to be doing pretty well. Customer service is great too. Striking point – the number of people at the malls is humongous. And most of them were better dressed than I was.

Before I dive into facts about Chennai, my next halt, and I am speaking my mind here with no order or agenda, one thing that I would like you, young man or woman, to notice is that India is very real. Let me explain. Developed countries live an artificial life. Everything is optimized, perfect, roads have signs, traffic moves in some order, there are very few people and all of them have health insurance and air-conditioning. In India’s disorder and mayhem, there is life, art, and history woven together in one fabric. There is hope, fear and sorrow with the joys. Everyday is one one huge physio-emotional roller coaster, worrying about whether you will be able to see the world cup final tonight lest the power cut deprives you. Most people don’t have time to wonder about questions like “Why am I here, what is the purpose of my life?” and the likes. They worry about how to tackle the heat without the airconditioner first. Life is what is meant to be, evanescent and full of reality at the same time.
-Excerpt from my complete write-up, apologies for the seemingly incomplete ending.