There is more to life than simply increasing its speed. Mahatma Gandhi.
There is a sense of timeliness in India that doesn’t exist in the West. Perhaps it comes from simply having been around longer, much longer…
You cannot help but feel India and hear it in the music. Indian classical music is traditionally taught orally, passed along from each generation to the next. Listen to Ravi Shankar and his lovely daughter Anoushka.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igDsu5QWhpo
If you like the sitar and are interested in classical Indian music, there’s much more on You Tube. Listen to Taj Mahal/Music of Ancient India (great pics here, too). Also listen to Ancient Echoes, great Sitar, Lyre and Fiddle.
A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimension. Oliver Wendell Holmes.
As you drive into Delhi from the airport there are two things that immediately strike you – the disparity between the rich and the very poor and the high level of energy. Everybody is working, hustling. They are hungry. They want in and are putting in the effort to make sure they are not denied.
In his recent book, A Place Within, recounting and comparing his impressions of the new India with the India he knew in the fifties, M.G. Vassanji, an Indo-Canadian writer had this to say:
“This is India’s turn finally, and its people – the priviledged classes at least – know that. The world needs it, the world is theirs. Dignitaries arrive to sing its praises, sometimes in undignified silly ways. Everywhere restoration and construction proceeds apace; new highways connect the cities, connect neighborhoods get renewed… the new vision of India is that of an emerging economic, military and cultural super power. The enthusiasm is boundless, the euphoria is catchy and undoubtedly built on substance. Nothing seems impossible – there are few other countries in the world that could feel this way.”
He doesn’t paper it over, though. As do many other overcrowded countries, India has its share of crime, corruption, inertia, rapes and murders. In sharp contrast to all the wealth and progress in the modern India there is an underclass which is not sharing in the Indian dream. These are the people from whom Gandhi could not advert his eyes and Mother Theresa, when asked how she managed to help so many, replied, “I pick them up one at a time.” There is no easy way to look at this part of India. There are no simplistic answers.
When you drive to Agra the old and the new, the emerging India to which Vassanji referred is vividly on display. Out the car window, the sights come at you fast and furious – the scooters, the man driving, a tiny child squeezed so tightly between him and his wife that she or he is hardly visible. Only the driver is wearing a helmet. Sometimes there are two children on a scooter, one squeezed between, the other sitting in front of his father. Auto-rickshaws built to hold perhaps three or four are packed with eight or ten people. Bicycles, flat carts pulled by horses, donkeys, even camels carrying all number of loads, wood, fruit, rubbish. Buses, trucks, pedestrians… all flowing in and out with seeming ease… like everything else in India it appears chaotic but it works.
There are sparkling new, shiny auto showrooms for Jaguars, Mercedes, Nissans and Fords, some two or three stories high – built next to hovels just steps away. Multi storied technical educational institutions and schools are under construction. There are new hospitals. Midway between Delhi and Agra stands a huge Pepsi bottling plant.
Every few miles there are larger centres. Lining both sides of the highway are tiny dilapidated shops, most just four or five feet wide and not much deeper selling all and every manner of goods and services. There are grocery stalls, travel agencies, clinics, pharmacies, flowers shops, tire stores, appliance stores, car repair shops, gas stations, huge new factories, brick works and clinics.
See, too, the entertainment gardens – oases of green grass and white painted garden fences, brightly coloured fresh flowers, benches and tables, dancing spaces where the villagers can escape the dust, the dirt and the noise and for a brief time celebrate a birthday, a family gathering or a special event in a serene setting.
At the end of the road to Agra is the Taj Mahal.
There isn’t anything to say that hasn’t been already been said: suffice to say, it is a humbling experience to see it in “real life.” The sight of the gleaming white edifice takes your breath away. Read more details on the Taj Mahal.
You can’t go to India without seeing it. You never forget your first sight of it and always recall your experiences on the road to Agra.
I am not the same having seen the other side of the moon. Mary Anne Radamacher.
I hadn’t realized how far I had flown until about 2 hours out of Amsterdam I looked out of the window and was surprised to see snow on the ground. The Russian countryside lay below. The flight tracker indicated that the flight plan was taking us east across part of Russia and then south to India, avoiding flying over the airspace in Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq.
Continuing in the direction of Delhi we passed over many of the other countries that comprised the ancient Silk Road to the far East. About 4 hours later the captian informed us that we were entering Indian air space and would be landing on schedule at 11 p.m. local time. I ran my hand over my chin and realized I had been on route for so long that I needed a shave.
My nephew and his fiance (it was their wedding that brought me here) were waiting for me. After hugs all around and getting some Indian roupees out of an ATM machine we headed for the door and after negotiating the price of the fare we all piled into a taxi.
Pictures are one thing but unless you have seen India with your own eyes it is difficult to describe it. Someone once told me that it was like living in technicolour rather than in black and white. All your senses are working overtime. I was about to see for myself.
It starts as soon as you exit Indira Gandhi Airport and get into the traffic. It’s organized chaos. Like water beetles the ubiquitous green and yellow auto-rickshaws scoot in and around the cars, trucks, buses, bicycles and the occasional donkey cart. Horns blare incessantly. Pedestrians dart quickly between the vehicles as they cross the street. Everybody and everything is in constant motion.
Their wedding was a few days away but first there was some sightseeing – including a planned trip to Agra and the fabled Taj Mahal, one of the seven modern wonders of the world.
As I unpacked I couldn’t help but think to myself that I may be on the other side of the moon now but there really is no ‘other’ side anymore. We’re all connected and increasingly interdependent regardless of wheich side of the moon we see.
Everything there is different from what it is with us and excels in both size and beauty. They have no fruit the same as ours, no beast, no bird. This is the consequence of the extreme heat. They have no grain excepting the rice… Marco Polo.
Marco Polo, son of a Venetian merchant family, together with his merchant father, Niccolo and his uncle, Maffeo travelled the length of the Silk Road, an ancient trading route linking Europe to China in the 13th Century.
He wrote those words in his book Travels after returning from his trip through a number of countries including northern India. His book is still in print.
India! As it did then so it does now; the idea of India catches your breathe and captures the imagination. I, too, am going to India. I’m flying out this Wednesday evening. Marco Polo’s voyage took him 20 years including a lengthy sojourn at the court of the emperor of China. Mine is considerably shorter, less than 2 weeks, but I’ll take them!
I’m going with an open heart and an open mind. My bags are packed – well almost. My visa is in order. I have converted some dollars into rupees and I’m so excited I’m jumping out of my skin.
I expect it to be a truly amazing experience – a once-in-a-lifetime adventure that I look forward to sharing with you beginning next Monday.
In his book, Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Dan Millman described a scene in which his mentor, whom he called Socrates, challenged him to come up with an insight, something of value that would be worth sharing with others. “When you have that, come back to me,” Socrates said to Dan. At length, after much deliberation, Dan finally returned with a response that was acceptable to his mentor.
It was this: “There are no ordinary moments.”
Living at the speed we do today, it’s all too easy to forget that. We’re so busy just trying to keep up, ‘staying alive.’ The days turn into weeks, weeks into months and before you know it, in the blink of an eye, years have slipped away. How many times have you heard someone exclaim, “I don’t know where the time went!”
Metaphorically speaking we are on an express train hurtling down the track. As we navigate life’s twists and turns, we make choices as to which car we ride in on the train. Sometimes we move from one car to another, but it’s always the same train going faster and faster… hurtling down the track to its final destination.
The pace is frenetic. The stress and strain is relentless. Life can catch up to you if you are not careful. We’re so focused on the big stuff that we often overlook the small things and ordinary moments that can make such a difference to our lives and those around us. The people and things that really matter.
So what can you do to reduce the stress in your life and make time for those unordinary moments?
There are many ways. Here are just five:
Practice gratitude. Notice what you have. Be equally grateful for opportunities and challenges.
Share joy, not negativity.
Consume mindfully. Pause before buying. Ask yourself; do I need this or simply want it? And pay attention to the effects of the media that you consume.
Decide how your day is going to go before you leave the house. Don’t let one person or one thing ruin your whole day.
Choose your friends with care. If you strive to be spiritually strong, supportive and positive, seek those characteristics in others and help them develop these traits by living them yourself.
In the journey of life, there are no ordinary moments.
