The airport was dimly lit as we descended onto the New Delhi tarmac at 0100am. The perimeter was dark as far out as I could see except an occasional movement of tiny lights. As we stepped onto the stairway, we were struck by the humid heat of India, made worse by our winter clothing. We walked toward the airport doors, clutching the few items we had. The inside waiting area was crowded with men, women and children wrapped in thin, light, brightly colored stained and faded cotton scarves and shawls. The crowd was strewn about seated or lying on all the chairs and benches and covering the cement floor. A pathway through the masses wove toward the open airport doors where cars idled in various stages of disrepair, taxi signs inside, belching diesel fumes.
My in-laws met us at the door. Porters crowded around us grabbing at the few meager pieces of luggage that we brought. One tall, handsome Sikh in white turban spoke sternly to them and all moved aside for him as he reached for our bags. We walked among the masses toward the 1965 Plymouth station wagon that my in-laws had shipped to India from Portland Oregon. I would discover, after a few months, though comfortable, this was not the ideal vehicle for travel in India.
Our final destination was the Christian Medical College and Hospital in Ludhiana, located in the Punjab. But first, an Agra drive to see the Taj Mahal. We stopped around 2am to sleep in a cement building situated about 100 feet from the roadway. We walked into this rest quarters which had 4 cement rooms: a basic kitchen with sink, table and chairs; a sitting room with a couple chairs and two sleeping rooms with a two charpoys in each plus a connecting Asian toilet. Bring your own lights.
We curled up on the charpoys wrapped in the wool blankets brought by the in-laws and tried to sleep.
I am sure that you have watched the Geico television commercial with the cute little green gecko. Our roadside sleeping quarters had, not so cute, geckos scurrying along the floor and cement walls. Sometimes, they would scurry across the cement ceilings. Sometime, they would scurry onto a patch of dirt or dust and.....not sticking to the ceiling....fall on the innocent sleepers who just arrived from very clean Switzerland.
This would not be the last time we spent a night in one of these roadside quarters.
This would not be the last time we spent a night in one of these roadside quarters.
The Taj Mahal's white marble glistening in the morning sun was everything that I had ever imagined. At that time, I did not realize how fortunate we were to be visiting in the 1960's with no tourist buses, no lines, no shops, no barriers and no crowds. Unfortunately, I had no camera.
 |
| Taj Mahal (2006) |
Yesterday is a dream, tomorrow but a vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore, to this day.
Sanskrit Proverb
