Coda

India time played its final trick on the Odyssey and delivered me an abrupt return home. Actually, it wasn’t really abrupt - my internal calendar had merely warped from exposure to a system of time that stretched and spurted its way forward (which would also often stop to swing capriciously from the cadenced tick-tock of civilised periodicity). During the Odyssey, I had discovered better methods of measuring the duration of my stay: so after 7 personal drivers, 16,434 blogged words and 114 curries it was time for me to become the office’s latest ex-pat to re-pat.

Regardless of what my departure date was to be, my lack of preparedness for it was always going to effect an unwieldy return home. Lack of preparedness equalled a lack of further opportunity to travel before departing, and so I remained on client work until only hours before my scheduled flight out. Farewells to colleagues and friends were express but heartfelt.

There’s no single slice of my time in India that will hallmark my memory with a complete embodiment of the Odyssey, as the entire period is one single, large, organic experience in itself. Obviously, when retelling the story I will advertise those parts that are immediately identifiable to any audience: the majesty of the Sikhs; the nakedness of the poverty; the romance of the desert; the razzle-dazzle of Bollywood. I’ll talk about the pace of Bombay, the extravagance of temples and forts, the colours of turbans and saris. I might even hint at the Taj Mahal – which, by the way, is pure and perfect.

I will miss the Indian Odyssey because I won’t again live through that same collection of events and sensations. Indian bureaucracy has allowed me to uncover fury and frustration as emotions much more readily applicable than formerly thought; Indian culture and custom have compelled me to broaden my sense of wonder; and Indian folk themselves, I now know, will convince even the most wearied sceptic that warm-heartedness will always triumph over hardship.

I will miss the Indian Odyssey because I feel like I was in the country at a point when it had just cracked the shell of economic and social upsurge and had thrust out a tentative limb into a very interested world. India, unlike many developing nations co-habiting the global Petri dish, is not new to capitalism or democracy – but its latest reincarnation is still only newborn. To briefly witness the ensuing metamorphosis while still managing to behold India’s timelessness (as sustained in the monuments and traditions of its past eras) is an opportunity that will be cherished.

It was only recently that I was discussing the Indian experience with a friend who had moved back to India from the US. We were initially at a loss to successfully and succinctly put in a nutshell the India effect. The county’s mixture of offerings makes it difficult to sum it up in a single, all-encompassing sentiment. One’s experience of India will be a polar opposite of another’s - and I can understand those who travel for leisure will see a vastly different country than those who arrive for work. I know all these experiences will be astounding and not replicable. We finally came to a summation that covered all encounters (good or bad) while preserving the matchlessness of each traveller’s own feelings toward the country. India, we deduced, was simply magnetic.

This post concludes Rich's Indian Odyssey. I hope you've enjoyed it. I would love to hear from those who have dropped by to read about the experience. Drop me a line at richardhawker@gmail.com