"Kennet lane, please. Egmore station."

The best souvenir i brought back from India was this CD, Hari Om, by Satyaa and Pari. Listening to it everytime brings back strong memories and recollections of India, a powerful flashback of random images, sounds and smells starting from the crowded streets of Madras, Kennet Lane, where i started my adventure in India, hopping into a classic yellow-black taxi in the sweltering Indian night, passing the crowds milling outside the airport at 9 o clock - "Kennet lane, please. Egmore station". I can still feel the excitement i felt saying those words, hopping into a taxi and speeding away amidst a sea of cars, people in colourful sarongs and saris, and the swelling crescendo of car horns all around - a fact of Indian life i soon got used to.

Jesus, Ganesha and Islam - Religious harmony in Madras

From Madras i went down Tamil Nadu's coastal roads to French flavoured Pondicherry, with her whitewashed buildings, wide, tree-lined avenues and cobblestoned streets and the seafront promenade, which you find the whole of Pondi in the morning and at dusk. Further north i stopped at Mahabalipuram, a seaside town famous for stone carvings and seafood, before heading back to Madras to catch a flight from an airport in a frenzied state of security - 2 days after the Jaipur bombings; long queues, delayed flights and baggage checks (two rounds) which bottlenecked everyone at 2 makeshift, wooden security gates cum metal detectors. Not to mention i almost missed my flight too as i forgot to get some little luggage tag which was to be stamped by security - the stern female soldier at the gate to the tarmac was adamant not to let me pass for that little indiscretion. Thank goodness i did not have to rejoin the queue to get it stamped - i would have missed the flight for sure.

New Delhi! At the Lal Qila (Red Fort)

Arriving in New Delhi at 1 in the morning was not fun - especially if you have to find a room in the labyrinth of snaking side streets that was Paharganj, the telephone and electric cables haphazardously dangling overhead successfully adding to the claustrophobic, slum-like, "i hate this place" feel. Throw in gangs of touts that drag you around literally, and numerous operators posing as "Govt. approved" tour agencies and telling you "don't worry, you are safe here. You don't go out now and find room, very dangerous here. The people, the rob you... I have room here, you see, you like, i book for you... " And invariably, these rooms cost above 10 dollars for a fleapit (shared baths). And someone tried to sell me a train ticket to Amritsar, 2nd class seater, for 57 USD. I bought it the next day at the New Delhi Railway Station, right across the street, for 12 dollars.

Hence it was no surprise that I didn't stay in New Delhi for long - well, actually long enough to fall sick and hate New Delhi even more after having some insanely sweet and deep-fried bright-orange jalebis (Jalebi Walla - Bollywood stars supposedly send their reps here to "pack")and paranthas for dinner at Chandni Chowk. Gah. Feeling sick i boarded the evening Shatabdi to Amritsar, which was excellent really - good, plush, clean reclining seats to sink into and almost too much legroom, and was even more pleasantly surprised when i was served tea, followed by dinner, dessert, and supper. Amritsar was great - generally it was less chaotic, and there were great shops along Nehru shopping complex for one to fall sick in (im not sure if the kind staff at Cafe Coffee Day remember the sickly looking young traveller who sat beside the toilet (very clean) for easy access and ordered copious amounts of hot lemon tea. I spent most of my sick days there, writing in my journal and reading. Punjab also had more than her fair share of creameries AKA "milk houses" which sold ice cream and other treats, and cafes and restaurants for road weary travellers seeking to escape the daily routine of naan, roti, chapati, dhosai and dhaal curries. It was a welcome break from the stresses (and shocks) of travel in Uttar Pradesh (affectionately UP), India's most populous (and by far most chaotic) state. And that's not even talking about the main attraction yet, the Golden Temple, Sikkhism's holiest shrine. It was lovely - and so was the Amritsar's affable and friendly turban-clad, Sikh population. I took a side trip from here to the border bravado ceremony at Attari-Wagah - one of the highlights of my trip. It was unbelievable - the theatrics and exaggerations that border on parody.

Spent a good few days around Amritsar - named after the pool of nectar (Amrit Sarovar) that surrounds the Golden Temple exploring museums and learning about Punjab's great one-eyed Sikh leader, Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who greatly expanded Punjab's borders into Afghanistan. And feeling better i made the trip back to Delhi (transit only) to catch the train to Agra. My transit day in Delhi went well enough - i dropped by the Gandhi Museum at Raj Ghat and paid tribute to the great man, and hailed an autorickshaw to Humayun's tomb, set in stunningly, painstakingly revived Mughal-style gardens of the brightest greens and brilliant blue waterways that run through the garden, and the buttery yellow blooms and flowers. If you have time for only one sight in Delhi, then this is the place to be. After Delhi i took the 645 a.m. train to Agra Cantonment station, staying up to catch the rather staid football match that was the Champions League finals - and almost missed the train in the process, falling asleep during the seocnd half.

*To be continued - pics coming up soon...*