In India, there seemes to be a constant battle of the senses. One moment you can be walking down the street and your nostrils are filled with the welcoming aroma of spices and deep fried food. Your tase buds come alert with pleasure and your mouth starts to salivate when, suddenly, you walk past a public urinal or a leaking sewer and are nauseated by the overwhelming smell of things you don't even want to imagine. You stagger past holding your breath, and when you finally open your mouth, your head starts to spin from the noxious fumes emerging from passing cars and rickshaws. Not surprisingly, your appetite is gone.
No longer thinking of food, you're easily distracted by a blur of vivid color as you walk behind a group of women in saris, or stroll past a vendor selling tikka powder in neon reds, blues, greens, yellows and purples, or happen to pass a woman selling strings of bright, fresh flowers. You can't imagine how these colors can possibly be natural as you've only ever seen them as artificial flavored food geared towards children in the Western world.
With a sudden rush of air and a loud blare of a horn, the thought is replaced by fear and panic as a motorcycle, taxi, or rickshaw has nearly mowed you down. You stand to the side of the street sweating and recovering from the tingly feeling in your toes that usually precedes death-like experiences. You wonder (angrily) how on earth you will make it across the street alive and have to wonder why there aren't more accidents in this god-forsaken country!
Having calmed down a bit, you smile at a passing stranger (because, aside from those who try to run your over, you can't help but love all Indians), and let your thoughts and senses drift again, inhaling, observing, listening, and tasting all the wonders (good and bad) that India has to offer.
- Dimity
