Jantar Mantar

Be warned - I think this place is supercool. My pals in Delhi think I'm too into Jantar Mantar, but it's such a novelty I'll be dragging all unsuspecting visitors there. It's an astrological site from the 1700s, built in the days before rulers were accountable for the use of public money. Further explanation during your respective visits..... intrigued I am sure.

Old New Delhi

I took a long walk around Connaught Place a few weeks back. Weaving between newspaper-wallahs and touts, I stumbled across this old gem - the Madras Coffee House. The austere space has long been superseded by shinier coffee shops with flat screen tvs and young waiters who serve with verve. It is a relic of the state owned coffee houses of the 1930s and 40s. It was apparently the first coffee shop in Connaught Place when CP opened as the shopping heart of New Delhi in 1935. The day I visited, this Sikh gentleman and I were the only customers. The click of my camera reverberated across the silent room, muffled only by the whir of the ceiling fans overhead. The coffee was ..... unpretentious, but effective.

Lake: Mountains - Pretty

Mountains rising steeply from Dal Lake: Despite the warmth of Srinagar, a glacier could be seen at the top of the valley. The boats on the water are clearing weed from the lake.

Dal Lake

Kashmir

This week I visited Srinagar in Kashmir which is just as beautiful as the odes suggest. The Dal Lake does shimmer peacefully in reflected sunset, and the mountains do stand by as guardians. It reminded me more of east asia than the parts of India I have seen so far. Pitched rooftops point to snowy winters, but at the height of summer the air was beautiful, warm and still. I heard the non-sound of silence for the first time in months.

I was fortunate to meet many interesting people who spoke passionately about their respective causes. One friend told me that people had fought over Kashmir for centuries only because it was so beautiful - beauty as a mixed blessing. He hoped his son might see a peaceful Kashmir. Another lamented that some young Kashmiris were despairing, leaving formal education for more militant approaches.

All through town, heavily armed police manned checkpoints and patrolled the streets. Fighter jets flew high over the valley (just as falcons soared on thermals rising from the forested slopes). The infrastructure of watch towers and barbed wire reminded me of the left-over shell of apartheid South Africa. But that gave me hope - that where conflict and confrontation were once the norm, a more sustainable peace was eventually achieved. Watch towers were abandoned, and barbed wire was rolled back from township checkpoints.

The Kashmiris I spoke to shared a strong sense of identity as Kashmiris, and a longing for self determination, however that might be shaped. A number said they were seeking 'freedom' in lieu of independence. Most were realistic about the challenge of bringing such an aspiration to fruition. They were frustrated that their wellbeing was part of a larger game.

I came across a few culinary delights - and look away those who are skeptical about my vegetarian credentials. We were given beautifully spiced lamb kebabs in one meeting - hints of cardamon and mint. This was washed down by 'Kava', a mixture of saffron, cardamon pods, chopped almonds and sugar - delicious and worth emulating. And to top this, our hotel had fresh Kashmiri trout cooked in the tandoor - I had this for dinner on successive nights. Be assured that I am returning to a strict diet of lentils, chappattis and vegetarianism now that I'm back in Delhi!

In preparing for the trip, I googled the lyrics to 'Kashmir' by Led Zeppelin. Putting aside the stirring arrangement, the lyrics rang true. "My shangri-la beneath the summer moon, I will return again; Sure as the dust that floats high and true, when movin through kashmir." And so, I hope, will I, perhaps in the winter to try out the ski slopes.

Further to....

A friendly soul sent me this in response to my rant a few days back

“I understand how it feels to be called a racist, when you know that you are anything but that. Our cricketers were subjected to the same humiliation in Australia sometime back and we didn't take that very lightly either. So your anger is justified. But I can't stop myself from saying this - By getting 'pissed off' with India, aren't you doing the same mistake as the Indian media is - blaming an entire country for the foolishness of a few people? Something to ponder about...”

I take that on the chin… sloppy writing on my part. I’ve re-framed the issue for myself and feel a little less like getting on the plane. In branding ‘Australia’ racist, the media are not specifically aiming at me – though that is how it felt in the face of a broken fire-hydrant of cable television opinion. National stereotypes are universally unhelpful, and it’s never wise to judge a people by their delinquent youth or their media, (or their governments for that matter). That said, if ‘Australia’ was an individual, not a country, she’d have fairly strong grounds for a defamation case.

I remain sad that has not been space for more measured Indians to say their bit – particularly those who know Australia and Australians to be on the whole a welcoming, multicultural place and people. My country has a lot of work to do to change perceptions here, and it needs its friends in India to speak up – I see a few are doing so. I wish more of those who spent the last week re-branding my country as racist (a word that sticks like mud) could visit Australia and get some context for their comments.

Meanwhile, the whole episode has baptised me into the ways of public debate in India, and some of the sensitivities here about perceived racism. A learning experience……

The issue of the week is...

So I’m sitting here watching a panel discussion on the highest rating Indian television channel. The topic is ‘Is Australia stuck in a white’s only mindset.’ It has now been 5 days and 5 nights of CONSTANT fever-pitch coverage of the three horrid attacks on Indian students in Melbourne and Sydney. Words cannot describe how damaging it has been for my country’s reputation here.

Last Wednesday I was so sad that these visitors to my country had been treated so shabbily. I wished the numbskull 17 year old schmucks, who wander Melbourne’s train system making nuisances of themselves, would understand that robbing and beating people is unacceptable. I felt for the families in India who had sent their children so far away in pursuit of education - and their worries. I felt for the students who arrived in a foreign country and found the adjustment hard. I was glad that my people were appalled, that governments were promising action, and that Indian students were making their voices heard. That was 5 days ago.

The media here seized on the racism angle – and with reason, after all three Indian kids lay in hospital, hit by separate attacks in separate parts of Melbourne and Sydney. But since then, Wednesday last week, there has barely been a new fact to discuss. Instead the media has wallowed in the racism story. The pursuit of fact has been abandoned for the endless recitation of opinion. I have never seen such a self-indulgent display of group-think in my life. There are NO dissenting voices.

The presenter asks “Is Australia, a country of convicts, trying to overcompensate for its geography by being whiter than white.” A pompous man responds with “yes” and starts rabitting on like an encyclopaedia about a policy scrapped three years before my birth 32 years ago. This is trash journalism. I wish I could call up and tell them how much the accusation of racism hurts. “Racist” is not a word to be thrown around lightly.

So, tonight I’ve had enough – India is pissing me off. I want to go home to my city, Melbourne, and be reassured that it remains one of the most multicultural places on earth, richer for it, challenged by it, but a snapshot of our global future. I pray that tomorrow the sun will rise and India’s media will find something more important to talk to itself about.