July 18, 2013

Another fort, this one, also a palace. The thing to do here was to ride and elephant from the parking lot up to the entrance. We happened to arrive at the same time as a Spanish tour group. They were whooping it up having a grand time. Many of the men had purchased turbans and were negotiating with the local touts for carved wooden elephants. Nicola bit when an older guy offered her one for ten.  She, thinking that was 10 rupees agreed and he, thinking he'd caught her in a trap said, no, 10 dollars, to which she responded with a shake of the head and a laugh. He was not to disheartened. He continued with the offers to the point that Nicola became agitated and angry. I intervened and told him enough causing him to pause and lose face. He could continue with the offers for as long as he was within reach. 

The elephants were rented by the beast with a maximum of two passengers.  Nicola and Jordan sat on one and I on another.  We started out together but it didn't take long of them to get way ahead. The elephants do a slow lope that moves the rider from side to side in a slow rocking motion, very comforting. Even though it was only 9:30, the sun was already becoming intense and with it, the heat. At least one elephant was trumpeting his protest on the way down the hill. We did notice that later in the day, no elephants were lumbering up the hill. It's an ancient rode they climb, walled against attack from the side still well preserved over time. Large signs had been listed asking tourists not to tip their riders but this didn't stop the pleading as we ended our tour.  The pressure to tip or purchase in this country is relentless. 

The Amber Fort was designed much like the Palace of the Winds except on a far more massive scale and walled against attack. The second floor had a mirrored room where everyone was having their picture taken. I gave up on photographing the room alone and instead included the tourists as well. Views from the top were spectacular providing vantage of the floating garden and the entire valley. The wall extends high up the ridge that in cooler times might have been worth climbing but I couldn't imagine doing it on this hot hot day. 

Our driver stopped at a local garment store where he said we could purchase stuff "whole sale, very cheap." Jordan immediately found items of interest right by the front door, sling purses that hold a lot and you can just throw shit into. Her thoughts went to gifts and she started picking some out for them when the chatty young salesmen told us that we would find better upstairs, always upstairs. Before we know it, we were being shown rugs and wall hangings and bed sheets and table cloths and shawls, all of various qualities, always the cheap and lower quality and always, for a little bit more, much better quality, and always just look, you don't have to buy. And they come one after another so that it's hard to keep one item in your head before another is thrown in. To be honest, it's quite tiresome and I was getting overheated and not feeling well at all. In fact, that wasn't a good night as would be most of the next morning. (And I thought it was Nicola and Jordan who were more susceptible to the heat.)

We did stop at an antiquities store where Jordan and I bought puppets. We'd seen a performance by some puppeteers at the City Palace. One guy would drum while the puppeteer would jiggle the puppets hips and cause her to sway back and forth. He did do a thing with a Michael Jackson puppet that was pretty amusing.

July 17, 2013

Jaipur is located in the province of Rajasthan, different from that of Delhi and Agra and more influenced by the Raj than the Mughals.  Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II who planned the city was unable to afford red stone as a building material so as a second best, he painted all the buildings pink and so that is how it is known, as the pink city.  Unlike the forts we'd visited, the palace had been recently used by the British and the Raj king. The reception area was completely intact with large raised platform beautifully carpeted under a huge chandelier and with chairs lined all around the square space. Pictures of the Raj and his audience with Lord Mount Batten were also on display.  There was the courtyard of the different seasons where much of the dancing takes place and they still film Bollywood movies.  The armoury was also interesting with its many daggers and swords and shields and old flint lock guns. A decorated paper mâché horse was also on display. Apparently, it was used to parade into a city that the army was about to attack. The defending leaders could either accept its presence or go to war.  

Yes, dude knew he was having his picture taken.  

The Jantar Mantar was built by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II1 who had a keen interest in astronomy. Each of these fantastic shapes at are meant to measure the location of a celestial body in the heavens. There's one for each of the zodiac signs and the sun and the moon.  Today, it resembles a modern art installation more than a relic of the 1700s. Many of the objects were curved with measurements along the edge of the curve and a series of steps along the curve. (I haven't investigated how these instruments were actually used.). 

From here we meandered the streets trying to find the Palace of the Winds where the wives and concubines were kept. This is a fantastic looking building that looks like dominoes lain vertically on a table, one just overlapping the other with the top cut in a half moon. Of course it's all painted red. The women lived around three stories of courtyards with their only view of the world being stone screens where they could look out but no one could look in. A courtyard for socializing with the raj was on the main floor while another, smaller one for the wives was built on the story above. I believe the concubines lived on the top floor.  Rooms were build around the courtyard for socializing, eating, sleeping, cooking, and voiding. Rooms facing the street had windows with coloured glass so creating a rainbow effect in the room but also making it possible for the women to look out onto the street and no one able to see in. 

We got lost trying to find the parking lot and our driver ending up in another, auxiliary lot where one goat was standing atop one of the newer cars licking bird shit off the roof. Eventually he got tired of standing and lay down to enjoy his feast. Other drivers or lot attendants didn't seem to give the goat a moments thought. Weird country.

July 17, 2013

Jaipur is located in the province of Rajasthan, different from that of Delhi and Agra and more influenced by the Raj than the Mughals.  Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II who planned the city was unable to afford red stone as a building material so as a second best, he painted all the buildings pink and so that is how it is known, as the pink city.  Unlike the forts we'd visited, the palace had been recently used by the British and the Raj king. The reception area was completely intact with large raised platform beautifully carpeted under a huge chandelier and with chairs lined all around the square space. Pictures of the Raj and his audience with Lord Mount Batten were also on display.  There was the courtyard of the different seasons where much of the dancing takes place and they still film Bollywood movies.  The armoury was also interesting with its many daggers and swords and shields and old flint lock guns. A decorated paper mâché horse was also on display. Apparently, it was used to parade into a city that the army was about to attack. The defending leaders could either accept its presence or go to war.  

Yes, dude knew he was having his picture taken.  

The Jantar Mantar was built by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II1 who had a keen interest in astronomy. Each of these fantastic shapes at are meant to measure the location of a celestial body in the heavens. There's one for each of the zodiac signs and the sun and the moon.  Today, it resembles a modern art installation more than a relic of the 1700s. Many of the objects were curved with measurements along the edge of the curve and a series of steps along the curve. (I haven't investigated how these instruments were actually used.). 

From here we meandered the streets trying to find the Palace of the Winds where the wives and concubines were kept. This is a fantastic looking building that looks like dominoes lain vertically on a table, one just overlapping the other with the top cut in a half moon. Of course it's all painted red. The women lived around three stories of courtyards with their only view of the world being stone screens where they could look out but no one could look in. A courtyard for socializing with the raj was on the main floor while another, smaller one for the wives was built on the story above. I believe the concubines lived on the top floor.  Rooms were build around the courtyard for socializing, eating, sleeping, cooking, and voiding. Rooms facing the street had windows with coloured glass so creating a rainbow effect in the room but also making it possible for the women to look out onto the street and no one able to see in. 

We got lost trying to find the parking lot and our driver ending up in another, auxiliary lot where one goat was standing atop one of the newer cars licking bird shit off the roof. Eventually he got tired of standing and lay down to enjoy his feast. Other drivers or lot attendants didn't seem to give the goat a moments thought. Weird country.

July 16, 2013

We stopped halfway between Agra and Jaipur to view yet another fort, Fatepur Sikri. The parking lot was a short, very hot ride from the entrance and then the 20 metre walk from the bus to the ticket office was filled with offer after offer from "government licensed" guides. Our best offer came from a young man who said that if we hired him, we wouldn't be bothered by any others. That said, I wouldn't have minded an audio guide because we really had little idea what we were looking at. 

Although, the fort wasn't a whole lot different from all the other forts we had send. Basically, red pavilions on platforms contained within a walled compound bereft of all decorations and with no attempt to recreate the lifestyle of the time, no carpets, furniture, pottery or tools.  Just stone and marble and heat. We had to leave the palace complex to visit the local mosque involving a whole other level of harassment. We suffered more offers to guide, this time from children and, in particular, a child of 6 or 7 who followed us around for out entire journey. Unfortunately for him, he had Nicola to contend with and she wasn't going to reward pestering.  This mosque too is a large walled compound. Around the outside, next to the wall were a number of graves with tombs not unlike those found in European churches with a coffin raised on a platform but without any engraving or decoration. The same could be said of the coffins for Shah Jahan and his wife in the Taj. The central mosque was made entirely of marble, small in size requiring the usual taking off of the shoes. I was surprised to get into the complex with shorts (there was a sign at the entrance stating that shorts were not allowed.) Now, there was an old guy ushering me into this beautiful marble mosque. Nicola and Jordan were invited in as well. A holy man with a whisk looking thing placed it on our heads and blessed us. There was a donation box but there were no requests that we add to it. I did anyway. We were careful to walk on the mats on the way out as the stones on the courtyard were incredibly hot.  Children pestered us all the way back to the bus stop where they mustn't have been welcome.  

Notice the water here. Not found in other forts although equally hot (or hotter)

Mosque

Lovely children following Nicola and Jordan. 

It was another couple of hours on the bus to Jaipur punctuated by a meal break at a restaurant designed for bus tours.  Tables were lined in long rows, the food was Carolyn and expensive and they sold junk souvenirs, much of it from Africa of all places. The driver had some problem finding the hotel and resorted to his usual method of asking people on the street and tuk tuk drivers if he can find them. .

Our hotel was over the top with flower designs in every wall (I mean literally) seating areas in everyone of the many, many hallways and corridors and large, elaborate rooms with large, elegantly carved wood furniture. The rooftop restaurant where we had inner was similarly decorated with little pavilions with room enough for a table for four. We sat at one it these where the waiter turned on the overhead fan which was nice considering the heat however it was so noisy, we had to turn it off.

July 15, 2013

Hem Ray, our driver, said that the company would provide a tour guide if we wanted one. He never gave us his name. Except for taking a few good pictures of us and stating the obvious, his constant press for speed was a greater negative than any positive he may have had to offer. His English was not that good and he kept repeating the same facts over and over again. "The last emperor, Aurangzeeb, he was bad. He only cared about his Moslem faith, was intolerant of others and mean to his father, the great Shah Jahan, who constructed the Taj Mahal. He'd been the younger of Shah Jahan's sons, killed his brother and then imprisoned his father. And, he was always hurrying us. That's what drove me nuts, so much so, that we didn't hire him the next day. 

Parking for the Taj was restricted to a few hundred metres from the entrance to protect the Taj from car fumes. The walk down was pretty much crowd free which surprised me because it was already 9:00. The barricades for tickets were set for Disney length lines. It was just a matter of time of walking through the gate to see, and is say it again, one of the most amazing sites of my life. The Taj looms out of the distance as if In a dream, a beautiful tribute to a man's wife and perhaps to all men's wives. It looked as if its constructed of lace, it's appearance is so delicate from a distance, amazing considering its size and marble construction material. Not surprisingly, we took about a million pictures from all different angles, many without other people in them. 

The sheer size and mass of the structure became apparent with proximity. Scriptures are written vertically in stone with the lettering getting larger with height giving the illusion that it's all the same size. Flowery designs are made with precious and semi-precious stones embedded in the marble cover the structure. Perhaps it was our guide constantly pressing us to move one but I did not find its inner beauty as compelling as the cathedrals of Europe.  I believe it also has to do with the inability of the artist to express his individuality in his art. 

Reluctantly, we left the beauty of the place and returned to the car. The heat was becoming oppressive so we had the driver drop us off at Costa Coffee and its air conditioned interior. 

The Agra Fort was our destination for the afternoon. Our friend, Jean, from the walking tour hadn't liked seeing the fort second because he wanted the Taj Mahal to be his last memory of the day. The Agra Fort is a massive complex only 20% of which is open to the public "which is a good thing," our guide says, "because otherwise it would take us a whole day to view. Basically, you've got a bunch of red pavilions stripped of their ornamentation and without any attempt by the Indian authorities to recreate the rooms as they might have appeared back in the day. Like the Red Fort, the pavilions are all constructed of red and rugs would have been used to provide privacy and separation between the rooms.

We dropped off the guide and then told our driver that we wanted to see the Taj again. He said that would be very expensive. He suggested that he drive to a park across the river from the Taj where we would get a fantastic view. He was right. We'd been told a few times that Shah Jahan had planned a black Taj across the river. The Lonely Planet said there was no truth to this and investigating this on our own, I would be tempted to agree. There is some brick work laid as well as a cement foundation however, this was for a fountain and not a building. I did use Drugh's suggested phrase Ram, Ram to this man and he seemed genuinely placed responding in kind. 

Hem Ray was right. After seeing this the Taj again from the distance of the river's breadth, we didn't feel it necessary to pay to go in again. We did however, revisit the restaurant with the fantastic view of the Taj and by meal's end had had quite enough of this fantastical building.

July 14, 2013

After breakfast, we walked along the main road that leads into our neighbourhood, the Friend's Colony which is very high brow and not very interesting unless you consider high cement walls interesting. So, we ventured out along the alleyway beside the main road to our hotel. This required dodging bikes and motorbikes and cars and trucks and the occasional cart pulled by a horse or cow. An underpass led into one of the people's neighbourhoods packed with people and houses and small businesses that consist of little more than a room separated by a counter. After purchasing water, we stopped in the local park to sit on the only bench shaded by a tree after the old guy sitting there left as we approached. He was dressed all in white with a matching white beard and turban. After five or ten minutes, another slightly younger, slightly taller version of the original bench sitter entered the park and stood close by waiting for us to leave. We cooperated. 

The car we hired for Agra was Toyota that looked a lot like the Corolla.  It was roomy enough but most important, it had a fantastic air conditioning. Our driver was a 30ish East Indian fellow with a slight growth of beard and a definite resemblance to a younger Omar Sharif. 

The new toll road to Agra was smooth and wide and practically empty. Clipping along at 120 km/hr, his phone rings with the identical sound Laura Kinney's made in the movie "Love Actually" when her schizophrenic brother needs to talk. 

He slowed to a near stop and then spit out the window with the kind of stream that chewing tobacco or betel juice produces but it's not. While driving, he awkwardly rips a small package in his lapsed then extracts crystals not unlike the powdery sour candy we buy at home. It wasn't his crazy brother on the phone. It was his boss. We were paying 6000 rupees for our ride to Agra. The boss told us that we could keep our car and driver all the way to Jaipur for 14,000 Rupees and he would drive us around in each of those cities as well. Nicola was listening from the back and when I turned, she gave me a little nod of approval. We would keep Hem Ray Singh as far as Jaipur. 

Agra is a poor city in a poor country. Our driver tells us that they provide services for the surrounding agricultural industry that doesn't pay well. We were also told by our guide the next day that no industry is allowed in Agra because officials fear it will stain the Taj Mahal. 

Our driver had some difficulty finding our hotel, Sai Home 2. Every couple of blocks, he'd stop someone else on the street to enquire as to its location. The streets were narrow and twisty and seemingly unplanned. To enter the neighbourhood where the home was located, we had to pass through a gate with an armed guard lounging in a chair just inside it. The community did not seem that affluent but everything's relative her in India. 

Sai Home was gated with a marble courtyard, patio furniture, and two living spaces with couches and chairs visible through a large opening to the outside, one for the guests and one for the family. Our rooms were basic, one queen/king size bed, a small flat screen television on the wall, air conditioning and a small bathroom with a toilet and shower. Always liking a pre-dinner shower, I was disappointed to discover that there was no hot water. On the bright side, it cooled me down as the heat here is oppressive. 

Nicola had read that the Sai Pan Rooftop Restaurant was supposed to have great views of the Taj Mahal. After getting directions from the owner, we headed for the downtown. We got as far as the turn right at the canal there was no way we were going to find this restaurant using the lonely planet's typically terrible maps. We passed a group of tuk tuk drivers who insisted we hire their services. One young lad even followed us for about three of four hundred metres before giving up. After 500 metres, we figured that there was no way we were going to find this place on our own. The $1.73 was well worth the money. The restaurant was located down a very narrow lane and up four or five flights of stairs through a hotel that would best be described as backpacker sketchy. 

The restaurant  was a narrow, two table wide affair to one of the most spectacular views I've seen in my life. The Taj Mahal was magnificent, ethereal, translucent like a finel and perfectly symetrical with its heavenly bounded spires slowed by the rounded domes at the top. We ordered three beers which were all 650 ml. and took an hour and a half to finish all the time admiring a view that I can only compare to going to the biffy in Namche Bizarre when the Himalayas appeared as in a dream after an entire of hiking in the rain. The view ended with a torrential downpour otherwise known as a monsoon. We sought refuge and dinner under a tarp the owners had rigged up that worked better or worse depending on where you were sitting. 

Our tuk tuk driver was waiting when we emerged from the hotel two or three hours later. He had the same difficulty finding our hotel as our driver earlier in the day. We were looking forward to a little air conditioning. Even though the rooftop view was incredibly beautiful, it was also stifling hot.  Unfortunately, such was not the case. Our electricity shut down as it would the next day so we would spend it outside in the bugs watching the television series, Top of the Lake, written and directed by the weird new zealander, Jane Champion.

July 13, 2013

We took the rickshaw tour this morning with our guide, Taruna.  Where Druh concentrated on a very small corner of Old Delhi, Taruna gave a better overall picture of the place.  She explained that Old Delhi had been first built by Shah Jahan, the same man who built the Taj Mahal for his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal.  He first saw Mumtaz as a boy of 13 without a veil in a haram where he should not have been.  He declared his love for her to his father only to be dismissed because she was not of noble birth.  After two arranged marriages, he still declared his love for her so his father finally agreed thinking that the marriage would be short lived.  She died giving birth to her fourteenth child. 

Shah Jahan built Shahjahanabad with a wide central street with a canal that ran through the centre of it.  In the middle was a large fountain which is gone now along with the central canal.  The once beautiful city is now a thriving chaos of shops and markets where commerce proceeds to a degree perhaps unknown in the rest of the world.  Taruna showed us a shop that the owner could not afford on his own so on the upper level is the drink shop and seated below in a type of crawl space is the guy who sells food.  At the spice market, we stopped to purchase spices not available or at least, not nearly as affordable in Canada, saffron being a major one, vanilla another.  Our final stop was to eat at a restaurant that's supposed to be a local jewel.  The locals don't want tourists to find out because they don't want groups taking it over.  We had the same lassis of the previous day served in disposable clay cups as well as the flat bread and spicy dishes from the day before.  

Probably the highlight for all of us was the visit to the Hindu temple. Taruna did an excellent job of explaining what I'm probably not very capable of retelling. Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva are the holy trinity for the Hindu religion. Brahma is the creator, Vishnu the preserver and Shiva the destroyer.  Ironically the most revered and worshipped of the gods is Vishnu. Taruna told us that this is because he is the most accepting of the gods and also the one responsible for sending us onto the next life. She also told us that Hinduism is a religion of idolatry. The explanation for this is that it is easier for people to worship a thing than an idea. When we entered the temple, we were ushered off to this de of the worshipping area to where we had to take off our shoes and give them to this dude who kept them safe in a locker. The main worshipping area has a large sculpture of Shiva against the back wall and just in front of him is a platform where two priests squat, one interacting with the congregation and the other reading the newspaper. The supplicants are all gathered around a large box like object on the floor where they are placing their offerings and saying their prayers and generally being excited.  Just in front of these people, on the street side of the temple,  is a screen where a choir is singing and chanting very loudly and boisterously. Behind the main temple area is another large sculpture of Shiva with a small sculpture of the goddess Yamuna above his head. The Yamuna River runs through Delhi and is one of the holy rivers of India. Shiva is using his head to easy the power of Yamuna's flow so that she doesn't wash away everything in her path. In front of this pictorial the sculpture of a cow with very large ears. The ears are large so that the gods can hear the people's messages as they pray. 

On the return trip to our taxi, we passed wedding shops with variously priced saris, shops for bicycle repairs, fresh food vendors, faucet stores, shoe stores, restaurant alley that only allows oneway foot traffic.  The list goes on.  All similar types of stores located next to each other.  

Dinner that night was incredible. We had the chef's tasting menu which included a variety of small dishes, which I can't really name. There were many appetizers with very fancy presentations which included one that was wrapped in a banana leaf held together with a teeny tiny clothes pin.  We mistakenly ordered a cocktail thinking that it would take a while to prepare our meal however we weren't left alone for a minute.

July 12, 2013

Breakfast was fantastic this morning, fresh juice, vegetable omelette, fresh bread and coffee.  

The Red Fort is large and very red.  An overabundance of Indian men were in attendance.  On the way in, one of the younger ones wanted to take my picture with him and then he wanted Nicola and Jordan in it as well.  Nicola didn't want to take part and then I left the picture area and the boy/boys and got what they wanted.  Then another boy/young man asked to take my picture and when he called Jordan over, I just walked away and that was pretty much the end of that game.

The size and dimensions of the fort continue to be impressive but fine craftsmanship that must have been involved is largely lost.  Narrow canals of water used to run through the complex and the open air rooms providing air conditioning and a beauty that's largely lost on the place now.  The reflecting pools and fountains are all dry.  

From the Red Fort, we took a bicycle rickshaw to the #3 entrance of the some Metro station where we were to meet our guide.  At about 2:05 we suspected something was the matter so Nicola rechecked her email messages only to discover we were at the wrong station.  This time we took a motorized rickshaw to the correct station only it was the wrong entrance.  It was the #1 entrance, not #3.  With some perseverance and much wandering through the market, we did find it.  Druj was rather angry and asked Nicola if she'd read his instructions regarding the tour.  Had she read the part about buying a metro pass?  Obviously not.  Fortunately, the anger quickly passed and we were able to being our tour.  Druh explained that he were going to get to know some of the individuals who live in Old Delhi, what they do and how the whole place fits together.  

I cannot describe the density of people and activity taking place in this section of the city.  The shops and small and narrow and piled up on each other going up three or four stories of the building.  These building are houses called havelis, a mansion owned by a family and passed on down through the generations.  The problem is that they have no owner.  Back in 1876 Sapoys, Indian recruits to the British military led an uprising against the masters and won.  According to our guide, problems arose when the Indians went to Bahadur Shah Zafar, to become the new leader of the new independent India.  Apparently, he didn't want to risk the wrath of the British and turned them down.  Without a leader, the Sapoys lost their resolve and the British regained control.  Upon doing so they moved into what is now Old Delhi and killed everyone who hadn't fled.  When the people were allowed to return, they moved into whatever they essentially became squatters in their new abodes.  Title to those homes has been in dispute ever since.  Because no one knows if they will be allowed to keep their home, they see no reason for renovating it.  We were also told that the families who owned each Havali have become many and so some have moved out leaving the others as inhabitants but not owners again leaving the problem of ownership should renovations be made.  

Apparently, this system of wiring works 

Druh introduced us to many characters on the street.  The old man who writes deeds and understands those written through the generations was lying on a mattress in the doorway to his shop with only half awake awaiting a potential customer which he obviously not anticipating any time soon.  We also met the ear cleaner, the guys who make wedding cards, the guy who pours water drinking water for the people living on the street.  He pours, the people cup their hands and drinks.  There's the guy who makes the most fantastic fried potatoes, better than any French Fry I've ever eaten, the street vendors who make incredibly good lassis (a yoghurt drink) and food that been lauded by the Delhi newspapers.  We visited the roof of one Haveli with a fantastic view of the Chamma Masjid (mosque) and the other rooftops of Old Delhi with the modern buildings of downtown Delhi in the background.  Finally Druh took us to his own home which he claims is the only haveli owned by a single family in Delhi.  He's spent much time and money restoring it.  An open air courtyard is located in the centre surrounded by 17 rooms and 57 doors.  Each room has an entrance to the room next to it.  He showed us one wall off the courtyard into which he'd tried to pound a nail.  When he chipped away the paint, he found an ornamental wall underneath which he's since exposed and painted in fine detail.  We sat down to a refreshing drink in beautifully carved chairs in his living room.  He showed us his bedroom, his mother's bedroom and his grandmother's bedroom.  It's not unlike a Central or South American home only built up instead of out due to the shortage of space.  He fed us dinner of flatbread and various vegetables with sauces we soaked up with the bread.  The only utensil was a spoon with the idea that we mostly use our fingers for eating.  Protein is provided by chick peas.  Elizabeth would love it.  

Guy cleans ears 

This guy scoops drinking water for anyone who might want it. 

Hidden mosque on rooftop

Old house somewhat intact. 

The most fantastic food. Newspaper reviews overhead.  

Bicycle rickshaws the way to get around in these streets. 

Monkeys too. Little buggers will steal your shit if you don't watch it. 

Payment required a trip to the ATM as every transaction in India seems to be done with cash.  Druh swerved through foot traffic in the narrow lane on the way to the ATM, a bit of a harrowing experience for the uninitiated.  There's a lot of anticipation on the part of drivers and pedestrians on the roads and pathways in India which must result in more than a few fender benders.