Ok, I must admit something: I feel extremely clumsy with every word I choose to describe India - almost unworthy... I have so many thoughts, such strong experiences, and putting them in words just reduces it all to something less than it is.

However, I came across this passage in Shantaram (the novel I'd been wanting to read for a while and that I happily found in the huge generous library of our guest house), which describes one of the huge number of contradictory, subtle, frustrating, wonderful, funny, incomprehensible, lovely, witty characteristics of India (and that anyone who's traveled simply in India will know... :):

"In fact, the terminal was simply a vast open patch of rough ground that served as a staging area for dozens of long-distance coaches. We drifted from bus to bus for half an hour, carrying our bulky luggage. I couldn't read the Hindi and Marathi texts on the front and side of each bus. Prabaker could read the signs, but still he felt it necessary to ask every driver about his destination.

'Doesn't it tell you where every bus is going, on the front of the bus?' I demanded, irritated by the delay.

'Yes, Lin. See, this one says Aurangabad, and that one says Ajanta, and that one says Chalisgao, and that one says--'

'Yeah, yeah. So... why do we have to ask every driver where he's going?'

'Oh!' he exclaimed, genuinely surprised by the question. 'Because not every sign is truly sign.'

'What do you mean, NOT TRULY SIGN?'

He stopped, putting down his share of the luggage, and offered me a smile of indulgent patience.

'Well, Lin, you see, some of those driving fellows are going to places that is NOBODY wants to go to.; Little places, they are, with a few people only. So, they put a sign for a more popular place.'

'You're telling me that they put a sign up saying they're going to a big town, where lots of people want to go, but they're really going somewhere else, where nobody wants to go?'

'That's right, Lin,' he beamed.

'Why?'

'You see, because those people who come to them, to go to the popular place, well, maybe the driver can convince them to go to the not/popular place. It's for business, Lin. It's a business thing.'

'That's crazy,' I said, exasperated.

'You must have it a bit of sympathies for these fellows, Lin. If they put the truly sign on their bus, no-one will talk to them, in the whole day, and they will be very lonely.

'Oh, well NOW I understand,' I muttered, sarcastically. 'We wouldn't want them to feel lonely.'

'I know, Lin,' Prabaker smiled. 'You have a very good hearts in your bodies.' "