The sun is setting to the left of me over the Arabian Sea, with only the Braborne cricket stadium in between me and the cloudy waters of Back Bay in Mumbai. In an hour or so's time, I shall be running the gauntlet of negotiating a fair cab fare for the long drive north through the city's suburbs to Chatrapati Shivaji international airport. This is the end of my short trip to India.
It's been a useful time for me, time to get away and have some space to think, to relax; to not think, sometimes, and just go with the flow; to feel both privileged with the life I am afforded in the West, but also, on occasion, to wonder who has got it right, the peasant with very little, or me, with a whole host of "modern conveniences" but, conversely, precious little time in the hectic world I occupy back home.
India is a place that can shock, frustrate, delight, amuse and sadden you all within the course of one day. You will curse the heat of the midday sun, yet a couple of hours later enjoy the warm blanket of the early evening and an orange sunset. There will be crowds, but also space sometimes for peaceful reflection or a quiet conversation with a stranger, who will more often than not be genuinely pleased to take time to engage you in conversation and find out about your world. A smile here goes a long way, and you will find plenty in return.
It's been good to meet new people and make new friends, plus to see old ones, both in planned meetings, but also meetings of total and utter chance. For all these things, I am grateful, and they have certainly been the highlight of my visit.
It will be quite a change to leave the airport in Norwich tomorrow morning and experience cool temperatures again, after the heat of India, save for the occasional coastal breeze if I've been lucky. I will both miss, and enjoy, the lack of the constant cacophony of traffic noise that has awoken me each morning in the cities here. I will miss life as you've never seen it, from the poorest of the poor to the affluent
Mumbaiker who rides around in their top-of-the-range Mercedes, observing this vibrant city through designer shades that could be traded for enough to feed a slum-dwelling family for I shudder to think how long.
This is the ultimate land of contrast, and its possibilities are huge. India is developing at rapid pace, but I hope it retains its underlying values and does not get totally immersed in rampant commercialism, or prize possessions and wealth above all else, something I feel we are often guilty of in the world which we inhabit in the West. India certainly reaffirms to me the value of the gift of family and friends, if ever I should forget.
Until the next time...
Tuesday 29 May 2007
Thursday 24 May 2007
Some like it hot
The first thing people here in India have been bemused about, upon meeting me, is why on earth I would want to travel here at this time of year, when the temperature is reaching its annual peak and the locals cower in the shade waiting for the sun to relent as day turns to evening.
Well, it is certainly good to get away from home for a bit, for a start, but one thing there is no getting away from is that it is swelteringly hot in India just now, as many parts of the country count down the days until the monsoons hit. Thankfully, this has not happened yet, although there has been some fairly heavy rain storms whilst I have been in Chennai and (briefly) in Bangalore; in the case of the latter, the plane which I was sitting in, bound for Goa, was stranded at the top of the runway for around 45 minutes as it waited for a storm to pass before it could take-off.
I have spent a few days down in the south-west state of Tamil Nadu, in Chennai, where I spent time with Balaji in this heaving metropolis. Indian cities aren't the most comfortable places to be, with suffocating pollution, furnace-like heat and sheer weight of population making for a claustrophobic experience - certainly not for the faint hearted. Despite this, I made the effort to see as much of the city as I could, from the ridiculously busy T. Nagar shopping district (I have never seen so many people in one place in my life), to the sweeping sands of Marina beach, one of the longest city beaches in the world. I also enjoyed the opportunity to visit both Hindu and Christian places of worship; the Kapleeswarar temple in the district of Mylapore is a stunning feat of architecture, with its amazingly intricate artistic detail; and I felt suitably humble when I visited St Thome Cathedral, one of only three cathedrals in the world built over the tomb of one of Jesus' disciples - the original "Doubting Thomas" in this instance.
Travelling around Chennai for a few days, it was strange not to spot a single Westerner - not that I seek out those of my own colour, you understand, but in most world cities you tend to find a cross-section of nationalities. It turns out that they tend to favour air-conditioned western-style hotels as refuge from the 40 degrees heat, before being chaffeured to air-conditioned offices in the morning. I only know this having spent my last evening in town dining in the roof-top restaurant of the opulent Rain Tree hotel, enjoying the company of Balaji and his friends Sriram and Vidhi, whilst business men and women discussed the events of the working day on adjacent tables over bottles of chilled wine. Not a city for the casual sight-seer at this time of year, Chennai.
I spent the vast majority of yesterday in airports and on planes, encountering various delays before finally arriving in Goa for 6pm. One surprisingly hassle-free transfer later (perhaps unfair - hassle and Goa rarely go hand in hand, unlike the other 99% of this country!), and I find myself in a sleepy village by the beach from where I write this. I have until Sunday until I fly back up to Mumbai - whether I can summon the energy to move onto another resort between now and then remains to be seen, although the heat may mean that I just loll around here, strolling on the beach, catching up on some reading and indulging in the delicious local seafood. It's a tough life...
Well, it is certainly good to get away from home for a bit, for a start, but one thing there is no getting away from is that it is swelteringly hot in India just now, as many parts of the country count down the days until the monsoons hit. Thankfully, this has not happened yet, although there has been some fairly heavy rain storms whilst I have been in Chennai and (briefly) in Bangalore; in the case of the latter, the plane which I was sitting in, bound for Goa, was stranded at the top of the runway for around 45 minutes as it waited for a storm to pass before it could take-off.
I have spent a few days down in the south-west state of Tamil Nadu, in Chennai, where I spent time with Balaji in this heaving metropolis. Indian cities aren't the most comfortable places to be, with suffocating pollution, furnace-like heat and sheer weight of population making for a claustrophobic experience - certainly not for the faint hearted. Despite this, I made the effort to see as much of the city as I could, from the ridiculously busy T. Nagar shopping district (I have never seen so many people in one place in my life), to the sweeping sands of Marina beach, one of the longest city beaches in the world. I also enjoyed the opportunity to visit both Hindu and Christian places of worship; the Kapleeswarar temple in the district of Mylapore is a stunning feat of architecture, with its amazingly intricate artistic detail; and I felt suitably humble when I visited St Thome Cathedral, one of only three cathedrals in the world built over the tomb of one of Jesus' disciples - the original "Doubting Thomas" in this instance.
Travelling around Chennai for a few days, it was strange not to spot a single Westerner - not that I seek out those of my own colour, you understand, but in most world cities you tend to find a cross-section of nationalities. It turns out that they tend to favour air-conditioned western-style hotels as refuge from the 40 degrees heat, before being chaffeured to air-conditioned offices in the morning. I only know this having spent my last evening in town dining in the roof-top restaurant of the opulent Rain Tree hotel, enjoying the company of Balaji and his friends Sriram and Vidhi, whilst business men and women discussed the events of the working day on adjacent tables over bottles of chilled wine. Not a city for the casual sight-seer at this time of year, Chennai.
I spent the vast majority of yesterday in airports and on planes, encountering various delays before finally arriving in Goa for 6pm. One surprisingly hassle-free transfer later (perhaps unfair - hassle and Goa rarely go hand in hand, unlike the other 99% of this country!), and I find myself in a sleepy village by the beach from where I write this. I have until Sunday until I fly back up to Mumbai - whether I can summon the energy to move onto another resort between now and then remains to be seen, although the heat may mean that I just loll around here, strolling on the beach, catching up on some reading and indulging in the delicious local seafood. It's a tough life...
Monday 7 May 2007
Amazing Grace
There are some pieces of music that can truly bring a tear to the eye, but in a good way. A hymn that particularly stirs me is John Newton's "Amazing Grace", which has recently been enlivened by Rick Wakeman (of Yes fame), his daughter Jemma and the English Chamber Choir, for his DVD/CD compilation of the same name. Quite beautiful, and if you've a place in your heart for well-played piano as I do, all the more special, and Mr Wakeman more than obliges on that front.
Take a few deserved, quiet moments for yourself and enjoy this quite magnificent rendition...
Take a few deserved, quiet moments for yourself and enjoy this quite magnificent rendition...
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