Now that I’m back in Blighty and
have scoffed a large bacon baguette and a baked Camembert, I’ve been reflecting
on the whirlwind that has been the last 6 months. Here are a few closing
ruminations before I sign off and try and find some gainful employment:
1.
Every cliché and rumour that you have ever heard
about India is true, somewhere – it’s not called the ‘Land of Contradictions’
for nothing. It is gleaming palaces and open sewers, blatant sexuality and
strict conservatism, peaceful spirituality and utter chaos. It represents
simultaneously millennia of culture and a blossoming, youthful nation with a
huge enthusiasm for its future. And all this clashes and harmonises in a
fabulous thali that leaves you overwhelmed, exhausted and desperate for more.
2.
However practical and down-to-earth you may be,
it is impossible to avoid imbibing the spirituality that filters through every
aspect of Indian life. You can’t help but realise that, actually, we really do
rely too much on material possessions and it is perfectly feasible to be happy
without mountains of plastic and techno gadgets.
3.
On a less profound note, the girls who told me
to ‘chub up’ before going out there obviously either didn’t stay out there for
long enough to get over the poetically dubbed ‘Delhi belly’ or hadn’t
understood properly the rules of the game beloved of women across India which I
shall call the ‘carb cramming contest’. Three types in one meal is the average,
though four is not unusual. Chuck in half a litre of oil and a few heaped teaspoons
of salt and you’re on to a winner. Don’t get me wrong, Indian home cooking just
fabulous (which is a big part of the problem), but it does seem that
nutritional education is pretty low on the curriculum and I am now struggling
to squeeze into my jeans.
4.
How would my dog take to a cow moving into our
back garden?
