It would be wrong….to attempt to give a romantic description of the approach to Bombay City …..Mile after mile of decrepit housing is surrounded by concrete rubble, stagnant water, and rare patches of scrubland, which is thickly covered in refuse and varieties of vegetable matter, each doing their best to outdo the rest in the levels of filthy stink that they can produce. This, however, I would quickly discover, was the norm outside any Indian city centre
Although it all seemed, as so much in India, to be a little tired and worn, grimy and unkempt, it was still a wonderful hall.
Indians love conversation. There is never any need to worry that you will not find something to talk about because just about everything is of interest. Sanjay, despite the fact that by his own admission he had little formal education, set about dealing with religion, politics, art, music, economics and the United Nations, all in the space of two cups of tea.
….in the same way that the French might spend a high percentage of their wealth on what they ate and drank, or the British might invest heavily in their houses, so the Indians, even those who would struggle to find the money to ensure the general well-being of their families, would make certain at any important or ceremonial occasion that they and their family were as gorgeously attired as possible.