You, my darling, are a land of many contradictions.
From all over the world to meditate in your breathtaking scenery, to absorb the wisdom of the ancients. And yet, strangely to me, so much of you is chaos. An erratic assortment of modern and ancient, a veritable mosaic of bright colors mixed with the dullness of hard packed earth.
Why is it, India, that your streets offer a breathtaking buffet of tasty bits, but those bits cannot be eaten without a great deal of risk? Is it a struggle you relish in imposing on those with unfortunately weak intestinal systems?
Why is it, India, that the ceremonies performed here to worship the gods, the sun, the greatness of life are not complete without the heavy dollop of cheesy kitsch?
Why is it, India, that your people call the might river Ganges "Holy," yet worship it with offerings like industrial runoff and garbage? Do you enjoy the mixture of your ancients ashes mixed with the refuse of a nation?
Is this all part of your plan, India? To provide a land so full of extremes? To force those who live in you to find the balance in the chaos, the middle ground that provides the only sanity in between?