New Delhi: Is & Is Not

India Trip I

If ever I have seen a city which dwelt in contradiction, then it is New Delhi, for it alone among the cities in which I've travelled finds beauty in its desolation, and culture from its ashes. The air is noxious, filled with debris, dust, and carbon dioxide, yet is also imbibed with a rich history which spans tens of thousands of years. The malls, larger than any I've seen in America, are a playground for the upper middle class and the wealthy, yet in the same city is a butcher's shop with truly horrific sanitation. New Delhi is a place where the deplorable conditions are met only by the hardiness of the people, and an amazingly helpful service industry is stunted by unimaginable corporate bureaucracy.

Throughout the next few posts I will dissect my three week trip to India, and that trip began and ended with New Delhi. Needless to say, there is not much I can say that hasn't already been said in some form or another about this historical city, but I will attempt to provide a unique perspective on my experience there.

Even before the plane had fully stopped at the gate, I could smell the air, and see from outside my window that the smog was so thick that visibility was reduced to but a few meters. How the pilot landed in those conditions I haven't the slightest idea. The aroma was familiar, which surprised me, as I hadn't travelled to India since 2013, and I'd seen that the pollution had increased tenfold since then. If I were to try and describe the scent, it would be sort of like when you get a whiff of the exhaust of a passing bus. That burned petrol smell mingled with incense and dirt permeates the whole city, and frankly, I like it. Perhaps it's the nostalgia, or maybe I'm a little weird, but whenever a truck passes me in America, I always smile and think of India.

Never have I been so scared for my life than in traversing the cities of India, both New Delhi and Hardwar (where I spent the middle portion of my stay). To say that there are too many cars on the road would be a severe understatement. I still can't decide whether everyone in India is a master driver, or the worst in the world, but they say that if you can drive in India, then you can drive anywhere, and I do think that's true. The lines on the road are meaningless; I saw a person driving in the middle of two lanes, on the dashed line, looking down at their phone instead of at the road, and I've seen several motorcycles, in a desperate attempt to circumvent the traffic, drive into oncoming traffic rather than wait it out, and it seems to be the case that it is up to other drivers to get out of your way when merging or taking a turn.

There is truly no justice that I can do to the traffic of India, and it seems to be a vicious cycle, where the culture has taught everyone that there is but thing that they must concern themselves with in the world, and that is their own person or family. Indeed, only in India will you find such selflessness in servers and servants, met with utter ignorance and selfishness in the general populace. The dog eat dog culture has led to people desperately clawing their way to any semblance of betterment in their own lives, regardless of how it may affect others. It doesn't help that, due to the rapid development in India, many people are recent car owners, and that licenses in India are bought, not tested for (until quite recently). The number of people who don't know how to drive increases rapidly, and that ensures that any who do understand the rules of the road are forced to take part in their barbaric ways to survive on the highways of India.

New Delhi lies upon the precipice of an economic boom, with potential almost literally oozing from its sidewalks, but while the air is electric with ability, it is also heavy with depression. Beggars, cripples, and vagabonds litter the streets with as much ubiquity as the plastic with which they coexist. And truly, it's heart wrenching to turn away from a man or small child asking for what in America would equate to but a few cents, just for some tea or simple food, but to whom can we give? New Delhi is full of need, and we are but one. While we gave to who we could, and even bought food for a man who had lost the use of his legs to some disease in childhood, and for a woman who had three small kids to feed, we could not help every person in New Delhi in distress. In later posts on the pollution and sanitation, I'll delve more deeply into why this is such an issue in those regards, but here suffice it to say that I felt truly awful every time we walked by someone with matted, knotted hair, one set of clothes, and no shelter for the winter.

So that's New Delhi, or at least, that's my experience in this great city, which derives it's greatness from historical grandeur and modern luxury, but is marred with the parasite of overpopulation and pollution. Of course, this isn't a travel blog by any means; the only reason I'm speaking of my trip to India is because it went a long way in altering my world view, and I sincerely believe that it is worth reflecting on. You too may feel changed after embarking with me on this short saga.