Impenetrable India

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Standing on the burning ghats of Varanasi, the oldest living city in the world where it is believed by Hindus to be where one who is graced to die will attain salvation and freedom from the cycle of birth and re-birth, I clock another approaching...

I look through him as if he is invisible, offering no eye contact, making no adjustment to my stance and offering no gestures that would in any way imply that I had or would ever acknowledge his existence.

He starts talking in my ear all the same of course, ignoring the platform full of pilgrims and mourners lining the River Ganges.

Not a guide. Not a Boatman. Not looking for money. Simply trying to raise money for a local orphanage.

Well of course you are... Isn't everyone round here.

But he continues. Talking passionately about his cause. This one has a particularly good grasp of English, articulating himself very well and, after a quick second glance, I see is well turned out.

He continues. I offer nothing.

And then the ID card is produced. Professional, clear and concise. I finally offer him a nod and a fleeting glance into surprisingly deep and honest looking eyes as he goes on with his detailed description of the work the orphanage undertakes for local children...

Oh shite, perhaps I am being unfair...

And then finally he pauses, looks away, concludes that I am not buying it, narrows his eyes and leans in...

"Hash, Sir? Fine quality. Very cheap."

And there it is... Whilst India is clearly an incredible country I must confess that I am finding it equally frustrating. Very much love/hate; for everything that blows your mind with wonder there is usually something that comes with it that leaves you either scratching your head (child pissing out of stationary train window onto the platform for example) or simply convulsing at the poverty ridden streets...

Take the Taj Mahal for example...

Built by the Moughal Shah Jahan as a shrine to his favorite wife who died shortly after giving birth to her 14th child, with a workforce of 20,000 men over a 20 year period, and described by a Bengali poet as a teardrop on the face of eternity, the Taj Mahal lives up and even possibly exceeds the dizzy, romantic expectations that come with it... It is the most utterly perfect creation I have ever laid my eyes on and I could (and did) spend hours and hours simply sitting in the grounds staring at it in awe...

Perhaps not so romantic is the fact that many of the craftsmen's who created what is surely the worlds greatest building had their thumbs and hands cut off after completion to ensure that they could never again complete a work of such beauty... In other words Shah Jahan was also a total git as well as a hopeless romantic...

Add to the fact that whilst the Taj is simply sublime, the fact that you have to reach it in Agra, a formless sea of shit, appalling traffic pollution, open sewers, piss stained streets and the most persistent touts I have ever seen, its fair to say that taking the rough with the smooth is an essential part of traveling through India. More so than anywhere I have ever been at any rate...

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