marți, 26 mai 2009

Delhi to Mumbai

Last time i wrote anything around here,I had stopped the Indian incursion in I better take it from here and move on through the country....
Delhi is pretty amazing in terms of size. The notions "close" and "far" have absolutely nothing to do with what I am used to.

I am stationed in an office at Nehru Place, for 3 nights that seem the longest of my life. Didn't get a chance to see anything, except for the gray buildings packed full with people and goods and drowned in a chemical smell, meant to signal some sort of "work in progress". Most of the time,I drown my attention in work, so as to forget that I am hungry , trying to avoid the spicy treats, to no avail.

Before returning to my depression-inductive-gray hotel room, where I literally make friends with a number of cockroaches, I do get to finally see a pretty interesting place: a restaurant founded in 1959, serving perfect garlic bread...
Silky, colorful silhouettes, in amazingly beautiful sari, would sway around the tables, leaving a trail of glances behind. I am told that Indian women are just as spicy as the food cooked in these places...I am wondering what this might mean, but I don't dare to ask the question out loud. Dinner is followed by a lollipop ice cream that reminds me of anything BUT ice cream.
My brain is accumulating a huge volume of info in a very short time frame.

I am enjoying the ancient TATA automobile that is taking us from here to there, as i am enjoying the look of the people, their expressions...A tourist can afford to enjoy some chunk of what India can show you.

The people I meet along the stay seem to be more than expected. Every step of the way reserves a surprise, good or bad, to prove (once more, if that was necessary), that India is the country of contrasts...And I start understanding, discovering and loving what seems to be a minuscule , but essential element in this portrait: the people, with their adapting power, their white smiles and their beautifully shaped eyes...

I soon have to move to the next pit stop, Mumbai, where i am to see a different India, the one of the Marathi dialect and of the lively streets.

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