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.
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