ROAD RAGE

Google Earth was a tool used by an artist I met recently to provide the underlying idea for a huge canvas he is preparing - it's roughly square and covered with small abstract rectangular blocks, representing city life seen from an aerial perspective, but what transforms this art work, is the network of red lines, representing roads, which he called 'lines of rage', as the towns, without facilities to support a growing population, become clogged with traffic of every description - auto rickshaws, cows, carts, dogs, bicycles, motorbikes, lorries, cars, all hooting - a stream of life jostling for an inch of space, elbowing the other person out of the way, no time to stop and think, everyone getting there no matter what.

Adding to the confusion are the ubiquitous road works which dismantle whole lanes of traffic as a million workers, mostly women in saris, dig huge holes in the ground with their hands and then traipse along with a wide basin of earth sitting elegantly on their heads, to be gently lowered onto a heap somewhere else.  Finding the road completely blocked by an impromptu mountain of earth, the traffic shudders to a halt for a second before the intrepid at the head of the line go over the mound, others follow and after half-an-hour the mound has been firmly trodden down by a million feet and vehicles, until it is a makeshift road again.  Money, to keep these projects in an endless state of incompleteness, seems to be no object.

As India builds a new global image with her burgeoning economy, concrete is being poured not only in the cities but in the countryside too and a Mumbai artist was particularly stricken at the loss of green meadows that she had known as a child.  Now steel rods project from concrete casings in the middle of nowhere,  like the flagpoles of medieval turrets, proclaiming territory, civilization and progress, as India gears up for a transition from a rural to an urban culture.  But is there a guiding hand in all this development ? 

For Mahatma Gandhi, the spirit and the soul of India rested in the village communities. He said, "The true India is to be found not in its few cities, but in its seven hundred thousand villages. If the villages perish, India will perish too." 

THE TAJ HOTEL

MUMBAI

It's big, the population is huge, the slums are huge, the skyscrapers advertise the huge corporate wealth.  People pour into Mumbai with expectations high.  The capital of Bollywood, the purveyor of dreams, hopes are high, the sky is the limit, but too often dreams end in the cramped slums, where existence is eeked out.  Taxis are part and parcel of this coming and going.  In fact many of the taxi drivers have come up from the south of India to work and make a living.  Their yellow and black cars become little homes, the upholstery crudely covered with cheap fabric and decorative items added to give personality, pizazz and a certain unique quality, even though they are all identical.  I photographed one such taxi which paused at a street corner and the light transformed it into burnished gold, a dream machine, the only reminder of reality was the exterior meter, which said 'For Hire'.

KINDLY WAIT

Half way through my booking of a seat on the Rajdhani Express to New Delhi for travel the next day, the clerk, said that he had to go to lunch and he would be back in 20 minutes and with that, he turned a little wooden board around, which said in gold lettering 'Kindly Wait'.  Having waited in a queue for 50 minutes, I couldn't believe that I was near and yet so far !  As the line built up behind me, like Chinese Whispers, the message was passed along: 'he's gone for lunch'.  Twenty minutes later, true to his word, he returned, brushing his mustache with a napkin !

The Rajdhani is a sleeper from Mumbai to Delhi and I found myself in a compartment with three men.  We were provided with sheets, blankets, pillows and towels.  Then a bottle of water arrived for each of us.  We were a mixed bag - one man was a diamond cutter, returning to Seurat, home of the diamond industry in India, one was a business man going north and the other passenger was a Nigerian who plied between Mumbai and New Delhi buying clothing and exporting to Nigeria - the mix of languages, as everyone continued their business on mobile phones, was interesting and the habits of people, for instance, the diamond cutter found it necessary to apply underarm deodorant after his meal - admittedly it was hot work !

HIGH TEA ON THE SHATABDI EXPRESS

A carton of fruit juice, two toffees wrapped in silver paper, a little packet containing a hot pastry, a sandwich, a little box with a cake and a large bottle of water with paper cup !  Later we were each given a packet which contained tea bags, sugar and milk and a thermos flask of boiling water so we could brew a quick cupper as we watched Gujarat streaking by the train window.  This was the Shatabdi Express to Mumbai.  Our carriage was air conditioned and plug sockets were provided to recharge mobiles and computers !!

Later dinner was served, this was equally surprising !  First we were given a small tray with a mug of tomato soup and Italian bread sticks and butter.  When we were finished this course, our trays were whipped away and about half-an-hour later, we were served with a larger tray, this time with little individually wrapped cartons containing a curried paneer dish, a bowl of rice, a bowl of dahl, a bowl of salad, a bowl of curd, a small amount of mixed pickle, a packet of mints, a hand wipe and a packet of tear-off soap sheets and to finish this banquet off, a little while later, delivered with the flourish of a Father Christmas, the steward gave us each a huge tub of ice-cream !  No wonder my companions were burping and letting rip !  I'd go again just for the meal - who wants to fly when you can spend the journey time of 5 hours feasting !?

A' LA CARTE

He had quite the whitest teeth and a wonderful grin - I'd buy from him any day.  His cart was laden with the most colourful array of fruit.  I called to him from my second floor balcony and placed my order for bananas, pineapple and paw paw - watching while he carefully weighed things in a scale, with the clink of weights as he made adjustments.  Crab apples are in season at the moment - they are strange looking fruit, quite different to anything else.  Similarly there are veggie wallahs who bring produce round on their carts and you hear their cry as they look up for customers.  The fruit wallah was so pleased with my order that he offered me a coconut - they lop off the top with a serious looking knife to reveal a little hole, into which they put a straw and you can then drink the coconut milk.  Afterwards, they fashion a spoon and you can eat the paste from inside the fruit !

But a few nights ago, returning home in the evening after dark, I found an 'ironing wallah', busy ironing a pile of shirts on his cart.  How could the electric iron work out on a cart in the street, you might ask?  He didn't have to worry about the length of the electrical cord or where the socket was, because there wasn't one.....  The base of the huge, heavy,  iron was filled with red hot coals which glowed in the dark - and with gushes of steam and heavy thumps, he was ironing a shirt collar with the authority of one who knew what was what !  I couldn't help wondering how you would put the iron on cool for synthetic fabric - remove an ember I suppose ?

PORTABLE ART GALLERY

India is full of surprises...like seeing a 'room' walking past.  Yes, absolutely - constructed out of a wooden frame with perspex walls on three sides being carried by 4 art students.  Every now and then they would set it down and you could walk into the 'gallery' for a quick look.  The art consisted of small postcard size pictures of trees which had incorporated their metal restraints into their living form - the concept of overcoming obstacles, no matter how life threatening.  The students explained that people don't think about things enough - they look but don't see, so the idea was to bring the art gallery to the people.  As I chugged off in my rickshaw, we passed the art gallery slowly making its way up the main road !