Indian Spice

I was in India last week. I knew Delhi had recently built a metro system. I knew many IT and call centre jobs had been exported to India. I knew that the car manufacturer Tata had its headquarters in Mumbai and now owned Jaguar Land Rover. Delhi, where I was based, is said _[1] to be the 3rd wealthiest town in India, so I expected to find a modern cosmopolitan city centre. The trappings of any large city centre are there: the plush hotels, embassies, hospitals and banks. The malls are there too, though are harder to find, but you won't see huge department stores lining the streets. In Connaught Place, in the centre of New Delhi, there's a huge green space surrounded by businesses, local souvenir shops and stalls, and there's an underground bazaar. It's hard to shop at all without being accosted by locals, often students, eager to practise their English and guide you to where they think you should go, usually to the information office or the government emporium not far away.

What quite took my breath away was the traffic on the streets. Delhi itself is full, not of private cars, but of ancient taxis, many of them the three wheeler variety, as well as mopeds, bicycles, fully laden buses, delivery carts and lorries. I would not like to have driven in India; driving is by accelerator and horn. When three lanes merge into two it's every man for himself. As you travel farther out from the city through small towns and villages, the traffic hardly abates, but is joined by bullock drawn carts and tricycles laden sky high with everything from sacks of produce to building materials. Workers are driven to and from their jobs in lorries and people standing clinging to the rear were not an uncommon sight. The three wheeler taxis, though equipped to carry only two adults in relative comfort, were often filled with a family of six and occasionally people were even sitting on the roof of these canvas topped carriers.

The monsoon had not yet come and the streets were hot and dusty. In the early morning it was not obvious what was behind the dingy pull down shutters on every shop front. Later in the day, the variety of trades and small businesses they hid became apparent, though produce was just as likely to be sold from a handcart in the street. Beggars plied their trade at every crossing and the occasional cow could be seen wandering beside the road, as, of course, they are sacred there. Small shacks with flat roofs lined the approaches. If there was any wealth there it was well hidden. In between villages the fields were parched and water courses virtually empty. There was the occasional cluster of traditional straw huts and when we passed back the same way in the evening, animals could be seen tethered outside.

India is not all poverty though. Fellow travellers on a train, on which I had managed to book e-tickets before leaving England, were Indian businessmen, with their laptops and mobile phones. The Ajmer Shatabdi Express was not particularly fast, but my carriage, though having the appearance of one built many years ago, was well equipped with power sockets, air conditioning, comfy airline type seats and capacious overhead racks. Admittedly this was not the crowded 3rd class carriage of some of the slower trains. The metro too carried a diverse range of people but it was clear that India has a far greater social divide than we experience here in the West.

I cannot but describe this as an amazing week. I set out to visit some of the world's most famous tourist sites. My itinerary included the Taj Mahal at Agra and the pink city of Jaipur and its observatory. I will take away many beautiful images of these, but no one could visit this part of India without being overawed by the rich tapestry that is the bustle of daily life there mingled with the scents of Indian spices, and a people jostling with each other to eke out a living.

[1] http://www.mapsofindia.com/top-ten-cities-of-india/top-ten-wealthiest-towns-india.html