IN THE TEMPLE GARDEN

Faintly in the air I could hear 'Lakme' by Delibes - but it could have been my imagination......

MAN WITH A PINK PAGRI

I noticed him immediately - tall... refined features....standing waiting at the baggage carousel at Delhi Airport.....but what was most eye-catching about him, was what he was wearing.....his crisp pink shirt was set off by a deeper pink turban (pagri).  This sikh stood out from the crowd - nobility etched in every crisp fold.

Although blue, black, saffron and white are the predominant colours for the turban - white for peace, saffron for rallies, etc., colours can simply refer to a time of year - pink for spring !  The turban is 6m long and is manually tied, but can be lifted off the head like a hat and I have noticed what distinction they confer - a man who has taken off his turban loses inches in height, both metaphorically as well as physically.

I imagined a new painting for Titian - instead of 'Man with a blue sleeve' - this would be 'Man with a pink pagri'   

POTS

The clay pots were stacked at the side of the road in an unruly heap - they are used for holding water, especially for villagers who go to the well to draw their daily water supplies.  They've been made in the same way ever since India began and keep water cool because of the process of slow evaporation through the surface.  Decoration is kept to a minimum - a wavy line - perhaps indicating their watery function  But I was puzzled by the pot painted yellow - presumably the layer of paint would stop evaporation - so was this pot then a thing of beauty ?  Strangely, these pots are not beautiful - their crudeness relegates them to the merely functional.

ABUNDANCE

The sheer opulence of the display never fails to amaze me.  It seems that nothing is ever in half measures - there can be no doubt that this is the grape harvest - after the winter,  'Mother India' has given us grapes, to replenish our sugar reserves and prepare us for the searing heat of summer.

ROLLING OUT THE FLORAL CARPET IN INDIA

SLIP SLOP CULTURE

She was wearing slip-slops - I noticed this with complete astonishment !  This was a flight from London to India, from winter to winter....one has a preconceived image of an Air Hostess, from their tightly pulled back hair, to their pencil slim skirts and no nonsense high heel court shoes, so the casualness of this footwear in the context of an international flight was 'shocking'.  But I reasoned idly, while listening to the usual pre-take-off blurb, that in fact everyone wears slip-slops in India, rain or shine, winter or summer, daytime or evening, casual or smart, it is the standard footwear for every Indian.  It is also the first thing they look at when meeting you for the first time - it would seem that for them, the soul is in the feet, rather than the eyes.  I've also noticed that they don't suffer from the usual foot problems that we have in the west.

Ferragamo, in Italy is credited with democratising shoes, which previously had been the preserve of the privileged class.  He made fashion shoes for the masses and started a footwear revolution.  Shoes have been a symbol for class struggle or political statement, in many countries and seem to define you, like no other bar code.

ELECTRIC CITY.....!

"Madam wait !"  Ramesh, the watchman, came running out to meet me, as I walked up the driveway of the luxury apartment block.  He was immensely thin and tall and was the major domus of the building,  responsible for cleaning, gardening and guarding - I would hear him with his stick at night, chasing away stray dogs and during the day, vagrant monkeys.   He and his wife slept on an iron bed in an empty parking bay, in the undercroft of the building.  But now he held out a printed sheet of A4.

"It's from Electric City" he said, bristling with importance - I was mystified - this sounded like some sort of space station.  I scrutinised the page - there were dates, consumption units and totals, with one final figure, hand-written with a flourish.   "It's normal" - he added, as I continued to scan the page....then it dawned on me that this was the monthly electricity bill from the corporation.  Electricity is very expensive in India and meters are sometimes found to be faulty, running more quickly than they should so you can pay to have them checked.  Anyone running their air conditioning units on a regular basis has to pay the consequences.  

But the image of an 'Electric City' stayed with me - I felt privileged to be a customer of this magical place and happy to contribute towards their profits.  "Yes, Ramesh, I'll pay it immediately !" I said.....