Autumn to Winter

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;........ John Keats

It took two days of rain and gusty winds to blow them away...... oh I am talking about the leaves. The streets in my neighbourhood were flanked the warm gold, orange,yellow and brown of autumn and then these two dull days and pooff......... The trees are now bare and gnarled as if a giant hand has disrobed them of their fineries. The whole street looks like it has been hit by a bomb.Ostrava is getting ready for the snow ! Everything is so desolate after the warmth of the autumn colours. I wish I had Keats' words and could write an Ode to Autumn myself! How beautiful the season is--How fine the air. There is temperate sharpness about it. Really, it is chaste weather--Dian skies--the stubble-fields are yellow and dried,sometimes they look even better than the chilly green fields of the spring. Somehow, a stubble-field looks warm--in the same way that some pictures look warm.

But there is no despair for the leaves blown. Soon the snow man will come calling and everything will be covered in that woolly white sheet of pristine white. Although. the temperatures are still warm and redolent, making me want to go for a walk every day. The sun shines unwillingly somedays and very sweetly on others. And somedays are reserved for the clouds and the rain Gods. But this is the best part of the year to enjoy Nature's bounty lagourously. Everyday is like a glass of wine, smooth and sweet.

My Switzerland Trip!!!!!

Switzerland is the mountain lovers paradise. It is a perfect combination of water and hills.... lots of lovely lakes to walk around and lots of mountain trails to trek.

We stayed at a lovely little village called Clarens near Montreux. Montreux is on Lake Geneve locally known as Lac Leman. Clarens is about 90 Kms away from Geneva. Montreux is the next town and it was a favourite watering hole for the rich and the famous and it probably still is. The R&F now all own chateu somewhere ........ Clarens is a typical Swiss village on the mountain with roads winding up and down the hillside, cars parked on slopes, houses that look so quaint that one may think they are doll's houses.The language spoken is French.

Clarens is part of the scenic Highlands Route and is surrounded by mountains. The Rooiberge is the range encompassing the village, whilst further on towards the southeast, the mighty Maluti’s stand proud in shades of purple and blue. All around are the sandstone cliffs with their multi-coloured layers - this horizontal strata is a unique geological feature of the area, and is known as the Clarens formation. Many homes in the Clarens Valley are made from Clarens Sandstone.

Every morning I would take the road that runs by the Lake and walk a long way down the road well past the city of Montreux to Territet enjoying the lovely view of the Lake and the mountains. Some days would be lovely and bright and some would be slightly misty.

On the weekend we decided to go to Locarno on the otherside of the Alps as I had read that the scenery was fantastic all the way. The Tripadvisor website said the train was a MUST for this trip but we decided to drive as we were too late to catch the train that Saturday morning. And my oh my!!! Did we have a view.......... eyes full of it......... ever so lovely, wonderful mountains and deep gorges full of pristine forest....green meadows with grazing cows..... flowers on the forest floor... At times I was reminded of the Himalayas.....Our route was to go through Domodossola (Italy) and then to Locarno (Swiss)

Driving up onto the mountains towards Locarno we crossed into Italy and to the town of Re. The Church of Madonna of Saguine stands atop a mountain. As the story goes a man frustrated at his life threw a stone at the statue of Madonna in the Church. And the statue started bleeding....(talk of superstition!!) Apparently some blood collected from the Madonna's wound is still kept in a chalice..(I saw the chalice but wasn't sure of the blood) and therefore the devout Christians go there to perform pilgrimage. But it is a beautiful Chruch built atop the Alps.

Leaving the Church behind we went on our way to Locarno driving through twisting roads over the Alps passing viaducts, and rolling through long dark tunnels ....... Oh it was wonderful. The mountains are so neat and clean........ the smell was so nice ... the gentle autumn scents of the forest and land....I wished all the while that we could keep our Himalayas as clean as the Alps... it would be heaven!

It was almost evening by the time we reached Locarno. It is a pretty place on the north of Lago di Maggiori. It is very touristy and is full of American and European tourists. The city centre is very pretty from there we went to see the Church of Madonna del Sasso which almost sits atop Locarno. Europe is all full of churches sitting atop hills with the best views. Madonna del Sasso, which is a nunnery and a Church is reached by a funicular and has some spectacular views of the Lake and the city below.

As hotels are very expensive in Locarno we had booked a place a little away from the city. And this fortunately turned out to be near Lake Lugano. It was a pretty little hotel tucked away on a mountain slope and by the Lake Lugano. We were tired and hungry and so we went to eat out at an oseteria. And the fabulous Pizzas we ate!!!! Thin crust and spread with home cured ham and cheese............yummmm..... I will remember the taste for a long time. And the wine was just so wonderful.... I shall not contest that our hunger made the best sauce......... but the food and wine were awesome too......

The next morning we asked the hotel staff what was there to look around. And he guided us to the artists village 'Bre'. So we went to Lugano and then climbed the mountain to Bre. It was a beautifully sunny day, balmy with a warm sun shining down and a gentle breeze floating by. When we reached Bre, we just saw a car park and was a little disappointed. But then we walked into the village and it was everything that the guy had said.....a little place with narrow cobbled streets winding up to nowhere and little houses appearing at every corner each looking so different to the next, every house and corner is adorned with some work of art, artists sitting on their porches with newspapers, colors, paper, clay etc etc.......... whatever artists work with. I suppose one could buy some art work also.I just loved Bre and if I were a artist I would have stayed back there.

From Bre we returned to Lugano and had lunch at the very touristy but pretty little city square. The area around Lugano is famous for their wine so we drank local wine and made merry. On the way back we took another route and drove over the Neufenen Pass one of the highest Pass on the Alps. The mountains surrounding it already had the first snow and the Pass was almost bare and bereft of any vegetation.In a little quaint shop on the top of the Pass were parked a few cars, cycles and motorcycles......... all travellers like us crossing the Alps. I remembered reading Albert Einstein's biography that he had crossed the Alps on foot from Austria to Germany as a boy to seek admission in a college.I wondered if he had gone through the Neufenen Pass.

The next week passed quickly. We went to Geneva one fine day. Well, it was fine when we started, then it was not so fine when we reached Geneva, so I took the toy train so I could get to see some parts of old Geneva. Geneva somehow did not impress me so much....... perhaps I had expected more from it. It was just another European city. The same cobbled stones, the same stores, the square etc etc. Or maybe the weather dampened my mood. But then the skies cleared and we drove on to another nearby lake and from there to Lausanne.

Lausanne is a city built on a steep incline. One has to be quite strong on one's legs to be able to walk about there. I saw people of every nationality living there. The next town is Vevey. This is a lovely town and we went to a weekly market there and bought some Indian spices as our hostess wanted to eat Indian curry. So off we went searching for spices, and we found a South Indian couple selling spices..... who didnt know any English but spoke French and their own language!!! I tried Hindi... but drew a blank!! Everything else I needed I could get there including prawns.....and some wonderful cheese and cured meat including venison.

The Swiss are famous for their fondue. Fondue is a pot of molten cheese, Emarentelle, Gruyere and chedder/edam. It is served in a special fondue pot with a lamp under it. Bread and boiled potatoes are served with it. Each person breaks a piece of bread, dips it into the cheese and eats it. It is a communal meal. The fondue bowl is kept in the center of the table and the whole party sits around it and eats together.Fondue and wine is a complete meal. If you have cholesterol then beware!!!The place we went for fondue is a little village up in the mountains above Lausanne called Chalet St. Denis. We took the long route and went driving by many other villages through winding mountainous roads. The cafe is lined with wooden panels carved densely with animals and hunters etc.

That weekend was Durga Pujo and we went to Zurich for that. Zurich is about 2.5hrs drive from Clarens. It was a very nice Puja organised by the local Bengalis living in and around Zurich. We had a nice time with them, and also had a sumptuous Bhog after all the celebrations. The people were very friendly and they came and spoke to us when they realised we had gone all the way from Czech Republic to see the Pujo.

A word about the Swiss........ they are dour people, they seldom smile. They park cars on the side of the streets facing both directions, they bake fabulous bread and make wonderful cheese and chocolate, they are stickler for rules, and they are rich!!! The houses are mostly owned by the municipality and once you get into one you and your kids can stay forever. The municipality will do regular maintenance and do a complete makeover of your house/flat every four years. So everyone has a nice renovated house every four years and the whole country looks fresh and new always.

Dilli, Delhi or The Capital.....

Whatever name you call it by, it is the same wonderful old megapolis. It has many more names, Shahjahanabad, Siri, Indraprastha, Chrirag Dilli , Tughlakabad. She is an old dowager, standing mute witness to the many onslaughts of greed and desperation, valour and forbearance, war and peace, building and plunder. She has perhaps seen the best of men and the worst of them through the ages. Kings and marauders have come here to conquer and pillage, many have stayed back to rule with compassion and some have just blundered their way through. But for Delhi its always been like the Brook…..’for men may come and men may go, but I go on for ever’. She has been the Queen of India since she was a young lady called Indraprastha, built by the Pandavas. Her palaces and forts, her wealth and culture, have always been the envy of the world. Her comely grace has attracted as many lechers as gentle lovers. She is at once the courtesan and the queen. Its up to the seeker to find her …..Her citizens call themselves Dilliwala or Delhite very proudly!


My grandfather moved to Dilli in the last century sometimes in the 1920s. That was a Dilli of the British Raj .And part of my family still lives there. So we have a long association with the city although the city has now come a long way from that Dilli. Today it is a bursting metropolis, a beehive of people and activity. Some say that Dilli has lost its old world charm, but then every one, including Delhi must move with the old man ‘Time’. Today the Delhi we know is the old Shahjahanabad, the Mughal Capital, Lutyen’s New Delhi and the satellite towns of Gurgaon, Shahibabad, Noida etc. In fact she has sprawled so much that even her most ardent citizen does not know her fully.

Shahjahanabd or the Old Delhi (as we know it now) is Red Fort with the dancing Jamuna flowing in the east, and the Chandni Chowk and Bazar in the west. Delhi fell into disreputable times when the first bid was made for Independence in 1857. Horrible things happened to her as things happen when people are at War. But the demography of Delhi changed after the struggle. Although rivers of blood flowed in the streets of Delhi, she recovered quickly and built her new sister ‘New Delhi’ under the watchful eyes of the British architect Lutyen.

Though she was being broken and built over and over, Delhi never lost her essence. The wide avenue of Chandni chowk, once had a channel of water and fountains running through it with tall trees lining its sides. The bazaars run off from it in galis and kuchas or lanes and bylanes from the main Chandni Chowk with each avenue specializing in one kind of merchandise. So we have the Kinari bazaar where you get everything for thr bride-to-be, and parathawali gali where you get mouthwatering Paranthas, and Khari Baoli where the spice wholesale trade prospers, the Nai Sarak which is the haunt of all book lovers and students and office stationary, the Dariba Kalan will lure you with glittering jewellery if you have a deep pocket, and interspersed with all of this, jammed in little known corners, home to food lovers are the super Kebab, chat and sweet shops serving the gourmets. Somewhere in these galis you will find the house or haveli of the famous poet Mirza Ghalib and other Mughal luminaries. In such a haveli once lived the family of Kamala Nehru and she was married to the illustrious Prime Minister of India Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru from here. There is never a dull moment in Old Dilli. She has so much to tell you if you have the time to listen. Today Chandni Chowk has lost its visual beauty because of intense commercial activity, but she has not lost a bit of her charm.


Lutyens New Delhi was constructed after the British shifted their Capital from Kolkata to Delhi. Before this, the British Residents to the Mughal court had built beautiful bungalows near the Red Fort but because of the Independence War they wanted to live apart from the local residents fearing a back-lash. So Lutyen built the wondrous city, with wide avenues shaded by fruit trees, and lovely high ceiling bungalows with majestic Offices and a Palace for the Viceroy of India better and bigger than Queen Victoria’s Palace. The Centre of New Delhi is the Presidential Estate or Rashtrapati Bhavan standing on the Raisina Hill overlooking the Rajpath ,a long and straight road ending at the Martyrs memorial of the Wars called the India Gate, the proudest structure of the valour and courage in battle. Raj Path leads out flanked by majestic government offices known as North and South Blocks. It is from here that the elected leaders of the people of India rule and sway the Destiny of the largest Democracy of the world! And they debate our Destiny from the mighty Parliament House just beyond the North Block . The road here are laid out in military precision but are decked with the gentle hands of a lover. Beyond the Estate is the green lung of Delhi The Ridge. But a city is incomplete if there is no place for its citizens to meet, and shop and pray. So they built the Conaught Place, a stupendous round colonnaded commercial structure, with a fountain and garden in the Centre. The Army Brass played on its lawns and the gentry came and partook of refreshments and strolled around in the hot summer evenings. Canaught Place or Rajiv Chowk as we now know it was designed with shops downstairs and offices above. With time this has fallen to disrepute and sadly the shopping pleasure has gone out for the locals as more satellite markets have grown in other parts. But it still remains the tourist hub as no trip to Delhi is complete without shopping and night out in CP (as all Delhiites acronym it) !

Delhi is incomplete without its monuments. It has massive forts with tall and thick walls standing from centuries ago. The first was the Old Fort, the Siri Fort, the Tughlakabad fort, and the newest and the best the Red Fort, so called because it is built with red sandstone, by the Mughal Emperor Shahjehan. The Red Fort is so massive and built so beautifully it is a pity that it is not maintained better. Then of course being the city of Kings, Delhi has its fair-share of tombs. We have the predecessor of Taj Mahal in the Humayun’s tomb. It has a very well appointed garden and the remains of a village surrounding it. Then there are the Tombs of the Lodhi Sultans again surrounded by magnificent gardens, the Safdar-jung’s tomb (the only monument built in pink stone).The marvelous tall and majestic Qutub Minar, the Jantar Mantar (oldest astronomical clock and towers) and the newer monuments like the Trimurti Bhavan, Bahai Temple of worship. This new age marvel is designed like a lotus.

Like any city which prides its culture Delhi has Museums, art galleries, theater halls, newbie movie complexes, Malls and other places of entertainment. The National Art Gallery has a large collection of Indian Art and is a visual treat to visitors.

The life of Delhi is her people. The citizens old and new, once they step into Delhi they lose their heart to her. She is the Grand Dame, sure of her attractiveness and largesse. Indians and foreigners who came to live in Delhi are bound to her forever. There are mean streets in Delhi too. But where in the world can you find a city as large as Delhi without some mean streets? Delhi is not a city for the pedestrian and is often unsafe for foreigners and women. The distances are too enormous and the traffic and people can be chaotic and overwhelming even to the Delhites. So Delhi is best seen with an air-conditioned and chauffeured car…… or else the visitor may overlook the charms of the lovely lady because of the heat and dust! If you are not a Delhite don’t drive on her streets! When I drive I just go with the flow…. Even if it means that sometimes I must go ahead and turn back to reach my destination. There is neither lane nor sane driving……. It’s just a river of cars, buses, rickshaws, cycles and handcarts flowing on the streets….Delhi’s streets live in all the centuries together. The cows of Delhi’s streets never bother to give way to traffic; it is as if they have paid more road tax than the motorist.

Delhi’s many charms include the fantastic shopping experience. There is the Dilli Haat, a little India in rotation. So sometimes you have stalls of artists and craftsmen from one set of States and then they rotate to accommodate other States. They also celebrate traditional State festivals thereby sharing the cultural experiences. Then there are the local shopping complexes of South Extention, Lajpat Nagar, Khan Market, Rajouri Garden, etc all with varying snob values and prices and specialties. Add to that the latest Super markets and Malls and you are spoilt for choice. And all international brands are available at Indian prices….. so, if you are from the west, you will save! And add to this the shopping experience of traditional silk and embroidery from the Government run State Emporia, the Cottage Emporium and the Handloom House and you have a surplus of choice. The wildest shopping experience is probably in the underground Palika Bazar. This market was built to accommodate a few thousand people at the most. But at any given time it has no less than 30-40 thousand tourists and locals…… all haggling away to glory for the latest electronic gizmos. Although there have been bomb explosions inside it, yet people throng to it like a beehive ignoring the terrific heat and discomfort!

A Dilliwala will know a lot about you if you tell them where you live. If you live on the ramparts of the Fort at Darya Gunj you are an old inhabitant of Delhi and you and your neighbours have lived there for many generation. You are either a Kayasth (ie the original Delhi inhabitant) or a Baniya (trader or businessman). If you live in Civil Lines, again in Old Delhi you were the original intelligentsia and avant grade citizens of Delhi. The Delhi University is located near here. Now you will see those glorious bungalows with big lawns mostly housing student PGs because their owners are not able to earn their living elsewhere. If you are living in Central Delhi, you are either rich as the Devil like the Jains, Mittals, Birlas…. or you work in a high post in the government and you have a housing provided by the GOI or you are a Minister of the Government. If you live in South Delhi, you are the newest and best of Delhi’s citizens, professional, smart, moneyed and what-have-you…. If you live in North and East Delhi……. your world is in another cosmic sphere outside New Delhi… snob value? Perhaps! In its many years of growth Delhi has swallowed all the villages that came its way. Some have integrated and become parts of Delhi and gained quite an attitude……….like Hauz Khas and Mehrauli. Some just remained dirty and uncared for like Ayah Nagar and Khanpur, Khazirabad and many others. But they have little gems hidden within them and no guide book will tell you about these except for a Delhi citizen, sometimes just a local resident will know about these places……..


I could go on for days talking about the city I love and live in. But for this time, suffice to say that I am in love with my city and the people and with its warts, moles and idiosyncrasies. I love you Delhi!

This is an introductory article for those who are looking for some information on the various facets of India and also for the those who are still searching to locate India on the map!!


It is difficult to talk about INDIA as the enigma that she is and thus the blog obviously suffers the fatigue of oversimplification of a complex topic. But I still feel, that as a first timer in India this will give you an outline of the diversity that is ‘India’.

This is not a guide to India nor must-do itinerary.I will leave that to you to decide once you have understood India minimilastically. This is not a ‘quick fix guide’ or a ‘sure shot trick’ for the India finder.

I do not intend to scare you away or discourage you from visiting India before you are there… I am merely presenting you with the some facts. India opens up for some their hearts and minds and lets the smells and sights beguile them; while for others its just not do-able.Its a complete turn around for those with a set western lifestyle. This isn’t a vacation to just sit and let time go by. You may not be Braveheart but neither can you be plain Jack.

A better understanding of the scheme of things goes a very long way in your memorable India trip.

The India confusion

Unexplainable. India lives in all the Centuries together. You will find the 9th century co-existing with the 21st…. And very harmoniously so. The co-existence works more like biology than physics. Your India plan invariably starts with the classic confusion - India or Not. The experiences narrated by those who have already visited India only add to the confusion.. Any one can convince you about the contradiction that is India.

I have heard of tourists who flew out by the next possible flight within hours after landing and also those who are well into planning their next Indian trip in the first lap of their first one. Also that people get a real cultural shock on returning home. And every one of these people have been right in their perceptions. How can you tolerate the chaos of so many centuries together?

“The most valuable currency you need to enjoy India in total is 'patience'. She never allows you to run faster than her nor she is bothered about your hurry.”

The excitement a traveller seeking from the ‘ancient spiritual India’ is comparable with that of the Microsoft executive visiting India for business. Both are enthusiastically scratching the India itch but at the two ends of a century!

India is a unique, overlapping and entangled landscape of all Time living within the other. One part of India is mired in history and God forbid you ask her to look forward and walk ahead!…….the other part is moving with the 21st Century’s fast paced life and damned if you try and stop her! You trip is facilitated by the 21st Century’s modern conveniences to explore the Ancient past of India which is a palpable living presence too.

Her past collides with her present in the middle of the road. You will witness this never ending and mind-boggling fusion of contradicting things. This is the how the whole of the hysterical chaos can be explained in simple terms.

A man driving a Mercedes on the Indian Highway sits impatiently with his hand on the horn of his car urging the bullock-cart to give way to him is a funny sight. Both the drivers know the cart will only move when the bullocks feel the need. It’s a real life situation very common on the Indian roads.
At every turn you are met with such hither-to-unknown surprises. These surprises hound you all the way from the ‘India or not’ scepticism through the India adventure and finally fade into that India nostalgia.
The rude welcome
Your welcome to India is hardly friendly and relaxing. The first thing you’ll notice is the people….endless numbers walking in all directions some very purposefully some aimlessly. This is the first head-on collusion with Indian reality that overwhelms the first time visitor. To some this experience is too raw to deal with comfortably even later on during the trip. So many people ??? As a foreign tourist you are the favourite catch of the beggars, the touts, the urchins or the local taxi drivers. Everyone has a quick-fix remedy for all your ills and you have to deal with all of them within minutes of your arrival.
All your tips from well meaning friends and other visitors and Lonely Planet Guide book will be forgotten in the midnight chaos of your arriving at the airport…(all international flights to and from India are in the wee hours!!) So you dive into the pool and then check your swimming abilities. And when all your lessons have been unlearnt, India will teach you new survival skills!!!!

As a tourist, unless you know someone personally you will in all probability never meet an Indian of your Social class. And this is another cause of the distress for the foreigner in India. We are a very stratified society and although we ideologically believe; through our religion, that all visitors are our guests and therefore akin to God; yet we make little or no effort to befriend a foreigner amongst us. This, unfortunately, is true even for Indians visiting different states within India.


There is no ‘Indian’ culture.

Because we are so diverse, ethnically and socially, that we have no homogeneous ‘culture’ as the West expects. India is not a monolithic cultural block. It’s an anthology of a thousand countries within a country.Would you expect to have a homogeneous 'European' culture...from the Nordic countries to Greece?

More than a dozen languages are spoken principally within various geographic regions. The diversity is visible in food, costume, religious rituals and traditions, and even in the social behaviour. We have a varied range of looks with people of the far west provinces looking more like Caucasians, the far east prominently Mongolian, and the South is mostly populated by the Dravidian looking people. In between we have all the other mixed races that came and stayed in the great Indian sub-continent. Vive, vine.vici!!! for centuries together.

If you’re travelling the length and breadth of the country everyday you are arriving at a new India, different from the one you have seen yesterday. The north, south, east and the west are all distinctively different. No cities or towns are stereotype representative of India. All are unique in their own way. You will never guess what a place is like until you go there..... Indian wills you to explore her.

The Indian paradox is never ending and deceptive. On the one hand you have the beautiful and erotic sculpture of the Sun temples and then again ‘sex’ is a dirty word in a country which traditionally had ‘nagar- badhu’ (prostitutes) as an honoured profession from the ancient times. The phallus is a enduring symbol of fertility and is deeply venerated both by men and women amongst Hindus. An article I read says this “You’ll find a lot of sex symbols and signals of modernism almost everywhere in India. Like women in the cities walking around in tight T-shirts and jeans. Those huge billboards profiling modern attire.” The ‘modern’ Indian middle-class man still thinks that women who wear jeans and such like are ‘sex-symbols’….The traditional Indian dress ‘sari’ is the sexiest dress with revealing mid-riff and slipping ‘pallu’…. But it is considered modest and unassuming.

.The clash of traditional India culture occurs more in the middle-class living room between the 21st Century children and their 19th Century parents, rather than with a western tourist. Very 21st century yuppie Americanized Indians become 19th century spoil sports once they mature into parents!!!

Indians have “Indianized” everything they like. The numerous “Chinese fast food” joints doted all around the country serves Indo- Chinese food with Indian spices and anything that suits the customers palette.We are street-smart to the extreme. The vegetarian McDonald and the Indian version of MTV (empty V, as they call it!) are other examples.

But in spite of all this India is a study of ‘Unity amongst Diversity’ as our first prime minister Pt Jawaharlal Nehru once said.

The Social structure

Indian society is highly stratified. There is firstly the religious Hindu ‘caste’ division., then the linguistic/regional division and then the Class division, and the religion variations….and all exist simultaneously and coherently. The extremely rich and the unimaginably poor live almost side-by-side. And the middle-class lives somewhere in-between.

All share more or less the same public landscape. The cultural co-existence of these classes/castes/religion/regional is a symbiotic miracle unexplainable. Accommodating a foreign tourist in this society is not a surprise as compared to her own social contradictions. In spite of so many divisions we still feel united against a single foreign tourist where he/she is a ‘firang’ and we are ‘us Indians’.........


The sheer sizes of all these diversities create a unique economic system to accommodate and cater to all budgets. As a tourist you use this to your advantage and fit your trip in the shoe-string category or the luxury category . You can adjust yourself anywhere in this spectrum. Your India can provide you with hotel accommodations from $3 to $300.You may travel three thousand kilometres from $10 to $150 by the same train at different classes and different comfort levels. You can have a decent meal from less than $0.50 to a five star dinner for $50. Like everything in India you need to find out which niche your budget fits !

A foreign tourist while not a novelty, is still different!! The difference can be used to your advantage. People take it for granted that a foreign tourist is well travelled and courageous. So play safe and not fall prey to the unscrupulous. To the average Indian the whole of the western population is part of the same monolithic culture,from the US to the Europe everyone is a ‘firang’, let alone the difference between Scotland and Wales!

The family factor

Don't get surprised if your Indian friend introduces her father's eldest brother's son-in-law's younger sister to you! Indian families are highly networked, quite alien to the west. People are not independent of each other as in the west. Parents play highly influential role in everyone’s life. In a typical Indian arranged marriage two families get married not just the bride and groom!! The suitability of both families to each other clinches the deal. Often the hapless bride has no say in it.A family is more of a collective consulting body where everyone’s opinion matters.

This explains why a large number of people travel as family. This is one reason why the trains and buses are crowded. ‘Family only’ sections are available in most of the restaurants.

The family is the elementary building block of the Indian society.
Communication

Anyone will pick up a conversation with you…. We are a gregarious and garrulous people. Intruding into others privacy is not considered rude. We have lots to say and share with complete strangers. In fact the less we know each other the better…. One unburdens oneself without the fatality of ones secret going anywhere.…. They share personal information… ranging from where they live, where are they going, what business they do…. and the list is endless. …. Strangers can talk for hours as if they are long lost friends and at the end they may depart without any personal introduction to each other.

Don’t be embarrassed if a total stranger, standing next to you in a queue, asks outrageous questions. The fun is that if you do not reciprocate with similar inquisitiveness you’ll be regarded as impolite or rude. In Indian customs this is a bit of insult to the initiator of the conversation. And funnier still is that you will attract a lot of stares if you are not talking to them. This is more so in a rural or a small town setup.

English is the defacto communication language for government and business communications. A business traveler faces no trouble at all in getting his work done but not the tourist… Your concern is the English knowledge of a taxi driver, a counter clerk or a layman at the bus stop.. Almost every Indian language has a good sprinkling of English so while people may not understand the sentence but they can pickup the key words. Pronunciation isn’t homogeneous either so have patience or look for meaning in words. Syntax isn’t stressed because mostly English is a direct translation from the vernacular language. So don’t get flustered with ‘Myself is the Station Master’. Speak to all without grammar!

Culturally there is no “NO” in India. An evasive or ambivalent answer is equivalent to NO. Never use the word NO if you don’t want to harshly deny something.

Patience

The most valuable currency you need to enjoy India is ‘TOTAL’ patience. She never allows you to run faster than her nor is she bothered about your hurry. The India elephant moves at her own pace. She leads a procession not a race!!!

Never take a two day break in India. If you are to move on or back you WILL miss your connecting flight! Leave your clockwork life style in the arrival terminal and pick it up when you depart from India. Don’t get frustrated if someone tells you that you have to sit on a bench and wait for four hours for the next bus to the town. You never knew you had so much patience!!!!
The India nostalgia

You can never be neutral about India… you either love it or you are the ‘good heavens! I’ll never go back there again’ category.

If you love India you return again and again… to see her in different colours and hues. The itch makes you return.

I have now lived in Ostrava, Czech Republic for over 3 years. It has been a life of isolation almost. As a family I live with my son, so it isn't as if I am all alone. But grown sons don't talk to their mothers all the time. They have interests beyond the house. His friends and other social activity often takes him away from home.

So that leaves me with endless time in hand. Why? I have often sat down and thought about it. And I realised that because of language barrier I am unable to join any activity in this country. Everything is in Czech, which is understandable as that is what the people speak. The other day I went to the British Council Library in Ostrava and wanted to join the Book Club. I was told that though the members of the club read English books written by English authors, they discuss the same in Czech!!! That was funny.Then I tried the Aqua- aerobic class and again it was full of locals who did not even understand English. Then I tried the new upmarket gym which has just opened..... the instructors and clients were all Czech. With all the Eastern Block countires, language is the biggest barrier. Specially for people of my age. My generation of East Europeans speak almost none or negligible English because they were discouraged to learn English by the Communist Goverments before. So unlike the West of Europe where most educated poeple speak some English, here its not so. But the scenario is changing with the new generation. They are learning English from school and I suppose in the next few years most adults will speak English. Although I still find college students/gradutes who speak little or no English at all.

So that brings me back to square one. I have no social life. And there is so much to enjoy here. So many western music concerts, ballets etc etc. What a pity all this is happening in my city and I am sitting and home and writing a blog!!! And the question is why don't I learn Czech? Well, its a tough language and I am not sure i can learn it!! Whatever little words I have learnt in the shops and on the street has confirmed my opinion of the Czech language.

Come right in
The door is open!!!

The door cannot stop you
You are the bow that pierces the
Deepest depths of human feelings
How can a door stop you?

You come with a song
Dancing diamonds in your steps
Roll over swift waters
Your music is harmony

And when you have done
I know you will leave
Leaving behind you
As much pain as
Joy that you had brought

For Love is capricious
Its stops only for a while
With Joy to fill
The empty heart

And when He leaves
He snatches back
All and more he gave
He goes onto another

Love is tender
When he enters a heart
And oh! so cruel
When He leaves it

The path is strewn
With desolate leaves
Gold,Brown and sweet smelling
For all to walk by and see....

For Love is Cruel and Heartless...........

Many years ago, I read a very interesting story in The reader's Digest Condensed Volume about a cheetah who had gone a long way away for hunting in summer.Whilst hunting she was shot at by hunters and grievously wounded. The story was about how the cheetah pulls herself back from the unknown forest to return to her part of the forest and finally die there.

When I had read the story its style and description, word play made an immense impact on my mind. I followed the animal step by step through the deep forest with the hunter pursuing it relentlessly. Every move of the cheetah's was mine, every shaft of pain was in my body, each time she fell and rose was my triumph!! It was a lovely story and I remembered it often through my growing years.

Many years have gone by since then, and I am now in my mid- life and once again for some unknown reason the story comes back to my mind. And sitting as I am in the autumnal fence of my life I empathise with the dying cheetah in another way today. I now realise why the cheetah needed, wanted, to get back to her side of the forest. Why she needed to rest where she belonged.

As a young person where I lived was not so much of consequence as how I lived. It did not matter to me that I had lived a part of my life in one city and then moved away to another so long as I had a certain standard of living. Being friendly and accommodative I was never short of friends. My friends did not all last me a lifetime.... but they were great while they lasted!

But Time has come around and now I am like the wounded cheetah ..... I long to have a place to return to. I want to have a place where I can lay my bones to rest. I realise the sentiments which compelled the author to have written that piece. There comes a time in every life when one wants to be still and communicate with oneself. Its when far away places have lost their colour and we want to go back to the roots. I realise I want to go to the place where my near and dear ones have lived and died. I too want to be with them in my last hours. My deepest emotions, perhaps unknown wholly even to myself needs to unite with the ones who were the cause of those emotions. It is a need to unify with the past, to be melded with thoughts left behind, to reach for rest where it is most satisfying. Which is why my own 'native land' is so important to me. I am the embodiment of everything the cheeta was as she is of what I am.