I was rendered speechless by the new world around me. Absorbing the new sights and sounds took all my energy, and for the nearly five-hour, 180 km drive from Delhi, I just watched.
It looked chaotic. And I felt so out of control. We had been picked up by a stranger, in a strange land, and we really had no idea where we were going. Or a mobile phone to contact anyone. Or the language to communicate with our driver.
I watched five lanes of traffic squeeze into three.
I watched rickshaws, bicycles, and motorcycles weave in and out of cars, buses, animals & carts, pedestrians, tractors & carts, and tut tut cars . Often on the wrong side of the road. And the motorcycles often had a family of up to five on board. Drivers talking on mobiles.
I watched a tractor laden with a cache of potatoes, carrying a dozen people in the cab. And another dozen on top of and beside the load. And pulling a bicycle balancing two more people. In morning rush-hour traffic. Through the centre of one of the world's largest cities.
I watched merchant boys hawking chaat through the stalled traffic.
I watched incredible colours all around.
I watched workers in half-built structures, propped up with bamboo.
I watched street vendors of all sorts making and selling food, haircuts, drinks, firewood, iron, clothing, scarves, pottery, pots...
I watched children washing themselves under water pumps beside the street.
I watched spanking new luxury cars alongside rusted-out bangers. And horses, donkeys, and oxen with carts.
I watched feral dogs and cows wander as they pleased.
I watched beggars next to yuppies.
I watched flashy new buildings standing next to crumbling heaps.
I watched famous architectural beauty pass by to be replaced by half-built piles sprouting rebar.
I watched women carry piles of twigs on their heads next to those who were beautifully coiffed and dressed.
I watched women, men, children dressed in colourful saris, kurtas, Nehru jackets, burqas, jeans, shirts, hijabs, suits, dresses, shalwar kameez, shorts, thobes, heels, flats...anything and everything. Rags and riches.
All the sights were accompanied by incessant honking and weaving. And the sounds of Bollywood in our car.
Contrast and contradiction was all around. Order seemed to have been abandoned, and yet, there was a flow to everything, and it all worked.
I didn't see any animal dung on the road, but I saw women mixing it with straw to create fuel.
The honking was a friendly notice of presence, instead of an angry missive.
The vendors hawking their wares were happily greeted and snacks purchased.
The wild animals kept to themselves.
We arrived safely, having only experienced kindness and hospitality. Our driver noted our interest in the agriculture and detoured to show us the sugar, rice, and mango crops...fisherman in the rivers...broken down trucks spewing green, flowering vines...grass huts drying grain. And ensured we were never hungry or thirsty.
Once we were inside the gates of the campus, calmness overtook calamity. The beautiful, serene, clipped, and cultivated replaced the chaotic cacophony.
As a friend of mine commented, "India is very free." She is so very right. That declaration keeps coming back to me again and again.
It was an exhilarating, surreal beginning. I feel that anything could happen. xoxo
It looked chaotic. And I felt so out of control. We had been picked up by a stranger, in a strange land, and we really had no idea where we were going. Or a mobile phone to contact anyone. Or the language to communicate with our driver.
I watched five lanes of traffic squeeze into three.
I watched rickshaws, bicycles, and motorcycles weave in and out of cars, buses, animals & carts, pedestrians, tractors & carts, and tut tut cars . Often on the wrong side of the road. And the motorcycles often had a family of up to five on board. Drivers talking on mobiles.
I watched a tractor laden with a cache of potatoes, carrying a dozen people in the cab. And another dozen on top of and beside the load. And pulling a bicycle balancing two more people. In morning rush-hour traffic. Through the centre of one of the world's largest cities.
I watched merchant boys hawking chaat through the stalled traffic.
I watched incredible colours all around.
I watched workers in half-built structures, propped up with bamboo.
I watched street vendors of all sorts making and selling food, haircuts, drinks, firewood, iron, clothing, scarves, pottery, pots...
I watched children washing themselves under water pumps beside the street.
I watched spanking new luxury cars alongside rusted-out bangers. And horses, donkeys, and oxen with carts.
I watched feral dogs and cows wander as they pleased.
I watched beggars next to yuppies.
I watched flashy new buildings standing next to crumbling heaps.
I watched famous architectural beauty pass by to be replaced by half-built piles sprouting rebar.
I watched women carry piles of twigs on their heads next to those who were beautifully coiffed and dressed.
I watched women, men, children dressed in colourful saris, kurtas, Nehru jackets, burqas, jeans, shirts, hijabs, suits, dresses, shalwar kameez, shorts, thobes, heels, flats...anything and everything. Rags and riches.
All the sights were accompanied by incessant honking and weaving. And the sounds of Bollywood in our car.
Contrast and contradiction was all around. Order seemed to have been abandoned, and yet, there was a flow to everything, and it all worked.
I didn't see any animal dung on the road, but I saw women mixing it with straw to create fuel.
The honking was a friendly notice of presence, instead of an angry missive.
The vendors hawking their wares were happily greeted and snacks purchased.
The wild animals kept to themselves.
We arrived safely, having only experienced kindness and hospitality. Our driver noted our interest in the agriculture and detoured to show us the sugar, rice, and mango crops...fisherman in the rivers...broken down trucks spewing green, flowering vines...grass huts drying grain. And ensured we were never hungry or thirsty.
Once we were inside the gates of the campus, calmness overtook calamity. The beautiful, serene, clipped, and cultivated replaced the chaotic cacophony.
As a friend of mine commented, "India is very free." She is so very right. That declaration keeps coming back to me again and again.
It was an exhilarating, surreal beginning. I feel that anything could happen. xoxo
