Camaraderie and Bonhomie as young members of a village go to a picnic on the Shimla road. Most probably they are going to Pinjore Gardens a heritage site of terraced gardens well maintained and centuries old. People love to picnic on the immaculate green lawns under tall trees.
Arriving at New Delhi Airport from Toronto I was overawed by the sudden heat and the clamoring, rushing horde of humanity. There were new unpleasant smells. Sweat and grime and taxiwallahs breathing their onion tinted Anglo words at me. ‘Taxi Saab?’ ‘Taxi Saab’ I had frayed nerves from the long flight and the separation from my husband. I thought ‘this is all a mistake, if I am going to be hounded by so many people all the time.’ I looked with dismay at the burning- in- the- Sun black and yellow taxis which seemed very ancient and hot without air-conditioning. I was not ready for another physical trial what with the jet lag and the airline wine induced headache. I should have gone to Tahiti.
“Anna Madam” I looked around and a slim tall dark man with handsome features wearing a blue colored uniform. He had a gentle smile and trustworthy eyes.’ I am Anil from Gurudaan. I have a car waiting. Please let me take your luggage.’ He steered the baggage trolley through this unbelievable surge of humanity.
The Sun was beating down relentlessly with a hair dryer blast of wind. The bags were expertly stowed away by Anil and to my surprise I found myself comfortable in the back seat of an air conditioned Toyota.