As you know a few times I like to talk about my travels and today it is about
beautiful
India.
This country was on my dreams for a few years and I was recently
able to go and spend a full month between
Assam,
West Bengal
and
Uttar Pradesh, my trip was part business, more about this
very soon! and part leisure.
Everyone warned me of the SMELL, the pungent and sometimes unpleasant odors I
for sure would be hit with, arriving in India, but to my surprise I did not
smell anything unpleasant, ever, for the entire month, only jasmine, incense,
spices, simple food cooked on open air.
The fragrant flowers for offerings in the temples.
The fresh vegetables and spices in the markets.
Even on a week-long cruise along the
Ganges the water did not smell
at all, often it looked very clean, not much polluted… or was already my love
for
India?
But the SOUND of the traffic was the most unexpected and intrusive experience
and that is why I did not love India at first sight (but I fell in love right
after…) for the constant and very loud sounds of horns and the way they drive,
impossible to explain. Their motto is
“When you drive you need good brakes and good luck" well since I am writing this notes obviously both were in my destiny
and I need to add “You need a loud horn”.
Trucks have huge signs on their back saying “Honk” or “Blow Horn” (like they
need any encouragement?) in fact honking is a way of letting others know they
are coming and when I say they are coming it means they are already a few inches
away.
Travelling by car, with a driver, leaving some of my mental health, not to mention nails, on the car seats, I discovered that the national sport in India is not cricket…but honking; wherever you go, by foot, by car, by tuck-tuck, there is someone startling you with a screeching sound.
Even in the narrow pedestrian street of
Old Varanasi you first jump
vertically in terror at the loud horn of a big motorcycle at your back, then you
jump on the side in the nearest door, store, entryway, or you try to make
yourself 50 pounds lighter against a wall, to save your toes, and your life. “Sidewalk” you would suggest? Oh no, there are NO sidewalks in
Old
Varanasi, not one!
Do I need to mention
Calcutta? Delhi? I leave
it to your wildest imagination; I have been around the world AND I am Italian,
so I should be used to some chaotic traffic but I have never seen such a
show.
It was at times annoying, and after a few hours of street cacophony I needed
some hearing rest and then is when I fell in love with
India.
Throat singing
Sounds became ancient music, like the throat singing in Assam, or became classical music, like the birds singing in gorgeous rural
areas, while they fly above geometric patterns of rice fields, over rows of
mango trees, silk cotton trees, or above extremely curated tea plantations.
Each village had a different atmosphere and a different sound, in some you could hear the Jazz of rhythmic hand-looms for weaving silk or cotton.
In another the subtle background of stirring the big batches of molasses to be preserved for a full year, and again the gentle bleating of so many goats and their babies.
In
Matiari, a village along the
Ganges, everywhere was the
sharp and loud percussion sound of the tools banging on brass for vessels making
and engraving.
In
Varanasi the computerized (sort of…) hammering for making
patterns for superb textiles (I should write about the magnificent textures and
colors, but maybe another time…)
And wherever I went, most pleasant of all the laughter of the children
following us in the villages or screaming joyously “Tata” “Tata” “Tata” which
means “Good-Bye” when the boat was passing near a village.
Then again the screeching of golden monkeys on the
Brahmaputra
river, the gentle movement of the water during the
Ganges cruise...
...the soft paddling of small boats crossing the river.
The clanging of bells, the chanting of
Buddhist monks, the calling of a
Muezzin, all sounds made me love
India’s spirituality, Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist religions and others seem to coexist in peace.
Every religious site was different
I visited all kind: ancient terracotta
Hindu temples, Muslim mosques, the under construction
Krishna’s new gigantic one in Mayapur...
Micro-temples on the streets, small altars in homes...
Everywhere some divinity was celebrated with
offers of food, candles, flowers.
At the end of my journey I loved every aspect of
India, even the
honking became familiar, and I will go back as soon as I can to hear again all
the sounds and to know more of this enchanting, complicated, mysterious
country.
Namaste.
All photographs © by Albarosa Simonetti. Do not use without
permission.
©2016
Brillante Interiors writes about new trends, timeless decor,
iconic pieces, design ideas, or at times just musing about "a certain Italian
way of doing things".
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