(The cow is a marvel. Hadn’t seen a cow in years till I got to India. Then suddenly this -quite literally- sacred animal was everywhere.) 

So it seems the previous two posts have set the bar for more or less floating somewhere in extra-terrestial space, and I’ve had a pretty tough time mustering up sufficient awesome to top that, or at the very least equal it because I’m not sure my ego could take it otherwise.

But after dithering and procrastination worthy of a Shakespearean Hamlet, I’ve finally decided to give this my best, and most sincere shot. If sincerity isn’t enough I’m not sure what is!

Personally, among the different Overseas Indieventures, I felt India was the most awesome thing ever one with, well, a humanitarian touch. In choosing the places I suppose all the OIs had a distinct trait of sorts: spectacular scenery (Hawaii), low cost (Switzerland) and so on. But India exposed us to so much, just so so much happiness and misery and wealth and poverty all concatenated in this land of 1.1 billion people, it was absolutely staggering how one nation could bear so much beauty and sadness all at once.

I’d love to go through every day and every detail and tell you everything we learnt, but it’d take so long and a very patient editor awaits with admirable serenity, so I’ll give you a sampling of the smorgasbord (sorry Francis couldn’t resist) of everything we saw and heard and consumed.

Take 1: Culture Matters

In India the culture doesn’t give you a chance to breathe. It just hits you right in the face with its colossal complexities and the amazing spontaneity of its people. Within the short span of ten days, we clicked our cameras away at, well, just about everything. It’s so amazing how vibrant it is, and the most fascinating part is that India has somehow wangled it such that the new fits in most harmoniously with the old. We saw wedding guests, young and old alike, prancing about with much energy on the sidewalk beyond a typically congested road in Mumbai,

the everyday workings of a 125 year-old lunch delivery system (the dabbawala industry) that now include an SMS delivery service within Mumbai,

and learnt how practically everything has a story behind it.

It’d be a pity to let such a magnificent culture die out, and I think that in spite of the odds, India has somehow retained the essence of who they really are, and this Indian-ness, so to speak finds itself out in everything they do in the smallest and most wonderful ways. It’s so hard to encapsulate this in a sentence or two, because how do you explain a life in mere words? Perhaps the best way for me to describe it would be that even (and perhaps especially) the young in India feel their heritage rather than know it. That way, you see, it’s in your heart rather than your head.

Take 2: Contrasts

Truthfully, nothing shook me more than the staggering divide between the sheer wealth of the rich and the poverty of the poor. It was so, so very sad. Is it possible that two such extremes can exist in the same land?

Apparently it is. Knowing that a slum like Dharavi, already considered advanced and fairly well-developed for settlements of the kind, could coexist in the same city with the most expensive home in the world was hard enough to grapple with for me. 

But what truly broke my heart was seeing the children at the Vatsalya Foundation. What this particular institution does is that it combs the street for homeless children, either runaways or orphans, tries to find them schools to attend, gives the kids a place to return to during the day, and most importantly, tries to reunite them with their families whenever possible. 

What caught me was their eyes. Their eyes were not children’s eyes; they were the eyes of much older people, of people who had undergone much hardship and are perhaps still fighting an uphill battle to survive in a society far tougher than anything we could possibly imagine. They were still not more than twelve or thirteen. Was this real? 

I didn’t want it to be. But it was. Somewhere along the way I turned into an emotional wreck, because I think I was confronted with my own selfishness, and it was a fearsome, ugly thing indeed. By the time we visited the children’s centre, we were only a few hours away from our final flight home, and I’d spent all my money on things I didn’t really need for myself. I had no money to give them. Of course I’d bought things for my family and friends as well, but really, did we even need those things? Did we need another pair of earrings, another scarf, another necklace?

Not really.

Meanwhile, these kids were trying to get to school, trying to get some food in their stomachs so they could face another day, trying to survive as best as they could.

I’d never wanted anything to be less true in my life. I don’t think I’ve cried that badly in years. Before I left I told the boys to take care, and that God loves them. Whether or not they believe in God I wouldn’t know, and I wouldn’t know whether you believe in God either, but I really wanted them to keep the knowledge of being loved in their hearts. 

I left that place determined to not be the same, to somehow or another, always find a way to contribute back to society, to reach out to the less fortunate. My selfishness cannot once again be willfully allowed to be an obstacle to someone else.

Take 3: More than acquaintances

In one particular Mindjams session before the trip, we did a quick poll: who’d put India as their first choice during the bidding? Yay for awkward silence. None of us had. In all honesty, my first reaction when I got this particular allocation was one of horror. My classmates were largely Hawaii-bound, and a quick scanning of the list told me I was the only representation of female from 10v14. Who would I room with? Never mind that, who was I going to talk to? Now this probably all sounds very egocentric, but I’m honour-bound to tell the truth, and I think I speak for quite a few of the trippers when I say all this. The mix of people was, well, awkward. Was India going to be more pain than gain?

How wrong we were. Even if India was not this mindbogglingly amazing place, getting to know your own cohort mates as more than just names or a one-night stalk’s worth of Facebook material was infinitely more precious. 

Suffice it to say that the people who needed to go to India went to India, together. The most unlikely motley crew ever went off for ten days, and came back as more than just acquaintances, but also friends.

cue awwwwwww.

But over and above merely, well, liking each other more, we also met a very significant and important group of people. During our four-day stay in Rajkot, Gujarat, we enjoyed the hospitality of our immensely generous homestay buddies, students (and staff) of S.N. Kansagras. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been better hosted in my life. Whether we were good enough guests is definitely in question, but our buddies were top-notch, no doubt about it. They took us to their favourite eating places, refused to go dutch or even let us pay for any part of our food, bought us the whatever they thought would have us remembering India for a longer period of time, and aceded to our requests on anything. 

I even got to cook my very own (disastrous) dhosa! It’s quite a show of grace and mercy on Anjali(my buddy)’s part that she didn’t take a photo of the end result. For now it’d be fantastic if you’d assume that I’m being highly modest with regards to my level of culinary expertise.

I think those of us who (unfortunately) fell ill in Rajkot can testify to how understanding of our afflictions they were, and these weren’t limited only to our weaker immune systems! Not knowing how to cross the road properly was one that gave Anjali much grief, because of my lack of awareness in general, but also because Indian roads are rather curious phenomenons. Crossing the road is, well, exciting. The traffic isn’t limited to merely vehicles with engines, but also includes vehicles with deranged drivers (sigh Khushbu), bicycles, and cows. Thank you so much for everything! You’re the best, really :D

Speaking different kinds of English was another. You’d think we’re highly fluent and speak fairly understandable English, but no. I found myself slowing down (if possible) and trying to listen more intently to conversations as well. When I raised it with some of my fellow India trippers, I found that we were all in the same boat, though I’m not sure everyone came to the same conclusions I did ;)

It wasn’t just them teaching us stuff about their culture, though. We introduced something very IP to them…

Ultimate Ninja! :D

After that I think all of us couldn’t get enough of it, and we played it everywhere and anywhere. We even braved the cold one night just to get to a park with some lighting so we could play.

AND IT WAS THEIR IDEA. Don’t you just love increasing your sphere of influence? :)

There’s so much I could say, but also so many photos that would express all the thanks I could ever put into writing a lot more eloquently than I ever could, so I’ll just quote a saying they have in Gujarat state, which when loosely translated means something along the lines of “the guest is God”. It truly isn’t something they just say-our friends in India were walking, talking embodiments of the perfect host, and I think that’s the highest praise I could give them. Thank you guys so much :)

Feng dressed up and looking all mannequin in Anjali’s first sari!

At the end of the day, it truly wasn’t about our differences, but our many, many similarities, and that was what bound our hearts together ;) 

cue awwwww again!

You know, the Gujarati word for goodbye is aavjo, but that’s not what it actually means. Directly translated, it’s actually a less casual form of saying “see you again”.

There were no goodbyes in India.

Aavjo my friends! We’ll see you again :)