Day 4: A reflection of India

Today was my rest day since I am getting ready to fly to Pune to meet my Sanskrit teacher Dr. Aradhana Tiwari. I did not travel but spent the morning with my new friend Prasanna who took the train to Kampur to visit his dad who works there as a project manager while his mom lives and works in Chennai. From him I learned that lots of Indians travelled to where work is even if it means that they are separated from their families for long periods of time. Prasanna’s dad has been living in Kampur for a couple of years. With his help, I was able to get a mobile phone. We then spent a good hour or so talking about India, it’s social problems and political corruption.
 

around Connaught Place

Ever since, I got back from my trip to Agra and Mathura, one question has been bothering me lately. How can India ever be great, when many of its people suffer from the unspeakable misery of poverty? Why doesn’t it invest in infrastructure? It really needs to modernize its country. A great country would have decent and sanitary places for its people to live in, unfortunately Delhi has very few of that. I would like to see the work that was put in to build the Taj Mahal on every block and intersection of India. As a matter of fact, India doesn’t even have cross-walk or traffic lights so crossing from one sidewalk to another is like putting your life in someone else’s hands. I’ve seen a handful of people who limp while they walk and I wonder if it has anything to do with getting hit by a rickshaw or car. How is it that a country that build such a beautiful work of art like the Taj cannot use its manpower to build houses and condos for its people to live in? Most of the buildings in Delhi are in totally dilapidated condition. You have people peeing, shitting, and dumping all sorts of things on the streets because there is no concept whatsoever of throwing things in a trash can. There are no trash cans in India. At first I thought Indians were immune to their own unfiltered water, but it turned out that they suffer just like me if the water is unfiltered. Everyday I see plastic waste and people burning plastics and all other sorts of garbage. Why can’t they invest in a water filtration system that makes water safe to drink for everyone so that Indians themselves don’t have to worry about drinking tap. It is because they know they’ll get sick that’s why they purchase bottled water. India has the manpower but I doubt that they have the will to put anything into action. There are many brilliant people in India, but I have yet to witness the country harnessing the potential of its talented people. Maybe India  could be more like China with its authoritarian regime--at least things will get done.

I love India, its wisdom, religion, philosophy, and the famous people that have come from that tradition (i.e. Buddha, Gandhi). But when I saw a beautiful mother who had to beg for a few rupees to feed herself and her daughter, it literally drove me off the wall. I spotted her outside of my hotel, at first I didn’t realize that she was a beggar until I saw her open her hands and gesturing her hands into her mouth. I looked at her, and then walked into the hotel, but for a split second realized that there was something absolutely wrong about my action...I walked back out gave her 20 rupees and asked if I could take a few pictures of her and her toddler. I then showed them the photo and I think she liked it really much. If my Yolanda was here, I daresay that she would give all the money she has to the poor people of India on the first day. If only I could have a tenth of the generosity that my Yolanda possesses--but I am torn between not going broke but also practicing generosity--an absolute virtue in Buddhism and the reason why I have so much admiration and love for Yolanda, who is probably the most generous person I have ever known despite not making a lot of money herself. I hope that 20 rupees was enough...I’ve seen other people who give much less.

She looks happy despite her poverty. How?

Staying outside in Delhi all day is asking for trouble because of the unbearable heat. So I’ve learned to take a number of breaks by going inside an air-conditioned room, take a break, cool down the body, and then head out again. Before I left Delhi, I wanted to go to their central area which is called Connaught Place, the central part of Delhi. Connaught has a number of shops but I don’t think it’s that many--maybe less than 50. I had a late lunch at a pretty bad food court...maybe I ordered something totally un-appetizing and here I got to see middle-class Indians. It was nice to sit in an air-conditioned place for an hour because once I left, the temperature must have been 47 C--it was hot as hell and I was sweating all over again in less than a minute. I went to one of the Palikar Bazaar, an underground market place and was really surprised that I couldn’t find any shop that could sell me a dhoti (a garment that is almost exactly like a bed sheet but use to wrap around the legs for men). The shops were either selling saris or shawls and they wanted me to buy one for myself or my girlfriend. I thought it must be mad for me to be wearing shawls in temperatures that is hot beyond belief.

Indian men for some reason do not wear dhotis or any of traditional dress these days, however, women still wear saris on a daily basis. But men either wear  blue or black jeans and a collared button long sleeve shirts. I’m not sure if I understand why they have such a dislike for their own clothes. Does it come from some low-self esteem of their traditional clothing? This reminds me of a scene from Attenborough’s epic “Gandhi” in which he explains why he renounced western clothing:

“I tried to live like an Indian as you see (he was wearing a traditional dhoti-kurta) it’s stupid of course b/c in our country it is the British who decides how an Indian lives--what he may buy, what he may sell and from their luxury in the midst of our terrible poverty they instruct us on what is justice and what is sedition, so it’s only natural that our best young minds assume an air of eastern dignity.”

Furthermore, Durga my sanskrit teacher said dhoti is a lot more comfortable than wearing pants in temperature that is in the 100s. I also read in the guide that Indians do not understand why westerners like to wear shorts because that’s considered to be the dress for lower-caste people. Well there is no way in hell am I going to be wearing jeans in India, and I only brought one pair of shorts and a pair of cotton plaid pants from home. I got a few responses from merchants who think I must be mad to want to wear a dhoti because no one else really wears them. Here I am trying to escape western culture to embrace an eastern one and being thought of as strange. So I headed home and fortunately the Main Bazaar where I was staying got some pretty good dhotis for 200 rupees...a bargain, but not too many selections. I’ll definitely check out where to buy them once I get settled in Pune.

This man give me some much needed practice in haggling

I booked a flight to Pune through my hotel and that cost me a fortune. Man the first week in Delhi is already costing me way too damn much. But I have learned a few lessons that I will probably not repeat once I come back to India next summer. The flight to Pune is at 7:15 am and I’m getting picked up at 5 am.

I gave to this boy's mom some 40 rupees...she was in a really bad condition and she had some kind of nasty scar on her knee. The boy began to follow me with heads down and hands in the air mumbling something of which I didn't understand. I think he was also asking me for some rupees. He walked with me for like 5 minutes while I patted his head wanting him to leave me. Finally I thought maybe I should take a picture of him as well. I didn't realize he has such beautiful eyes because he always had his head down. He was still kind of looking downwards and confused when I wanted to take a picture of him. Finally he looked up when I asked him to smile in Hindi, and behold a truly beautiful smile. Again I showed him a picture of himself and he soon left after that. Hmm...I wonder what happened between us?