Our tuktuk driver Raj is taking us to the Akshardham temple today. He is a nice young chap who speaks excellent English and is studying tourism.
As we thread our way through the maelstrom of traffic he starts to tell us of Devi (we think she's called 'Debbie'), an American woman he is engaged to and very much besotted with.
He was the first Indian who understood her desire for a Starbucks, and it was love at first latte as they shared a coffee.
Queueing for petrol he confides that Debbie doesn't know he drives a tuk tuk (he's only helping out a friend). She wants to buy him a BMW, but it's too ostentatious - he'll settle for a mid-range Honda.
In traffic, a sad, sari-clad transvestite man asks me for some money, a poor woman carrying a baby leads her blind husband across the road.
The Akshardham temple (photography not allowed) is very much a new-build theme park. Tranquil gardens and fountains surround the main building, a cartoon-like mural of the prophet's life adorns the machine-made walls. Impressive in it's own right, but a pale imitation of the artistry and craftsmanship of the 'original' temples.
A soft play area and food court mark the way to the evening's water and light show. It is pure Disney and great fun, complete with animated gods and demons (think Aladdin) and chuckling, childlike performers skipping about the fountains and lasers.
Here's the website: Akshardham Temple
Here it is from a distance:
Back in the car park, Raj has been on the phone to Debbie since we left him several hours earlier. She's buying him a nice pair of Nike Air Max. Last time she came over she brought him an iPhone 11. She's some girl, pulling down US35k a month at 'the Google'.
They're going to Dubai on a trip soon. He'd had a bit of visa trouble at the embassy, but her dad knows people close to Trump, and they rang immigration, who plucked Raj out of the queue and processed him through the VIP channel.
In the dark of a long red-light stop, a tiny old woman is going through the traffic, tapping each window with a paper cup, hand to mouth. I give her 100 rupees. Raj says the money goes to her drunk husband or 'boss' and I'll be the poor one if I keep giving. It's a theme we'll hear repeatedly. We can't know if it's true.
Arriving back at our hotel for a nightcap (via a bottle shop) Raj quickly dives into his small bottle of whiskey, turning morose, railing against the police, the muslim peril and musing on Debbie, Devvie, Devi.
We settle up, say thank you and good night. He squashes the crumpled rupees into a tight jeans pocket next to his cigarettes and settles down in his gloomy cab. We hope he doesn't lose the money grappling for his next smoke.
As we thread our way through the maelstrom of traffic he starts to tell us of Devi (we think she's called 'Debbie'), an American woman he is engaged to and very much besotted with.
He was the first Indian who understood her desire for a Starbucks, and it was love at first latte as they shared a coffee.
Queueing for petrol he confides that Debbie doesn't know he drives a tuk tuk (he's only helping out a friend). She wants to buy him a BMW, but it's too ostentatious - he'll settle for a mid-range Honda.
In traffic, a sad, sari-clad transvestite man asks me for some money, a poor woman carrying a baby leads her blind husband across the road.
The Akshardham temple (photography not allowed) is very much a new-build theme park. Tranquil gardens and fountains surround the main building, a cartoon-like mural of the prophet's life adorns the machine-made walls. Impressive in it's own right, but a pale imitation of the artistry and craftsmanship of the 'original' temples.
A soft play area and food court mark the way to the evening's water and light show. It is pure Disney and great fun, complete with animated gods and demons (think Aladdin) and chuckling, childlike performers skipping about the fountains and lasers.
Here's the website: Akshardham Temple
Here it is from a distance:
Back in the car park, Raj has been on the phone to Debbie since we left him several hours earlier. She's buying him a nice pair of Nike Air Max. Last time she came over she brought him an iPhone 11. She's some girl, pulling down US35k a month at 'the Google'.
They're going to Dubai on a trip soon. He'd had a bit of visa trouble at the embassy, but her dad knows people close to Trump, and they rang immigration, who plucked Raj out of the queue and processed him through the VIP channel.
In the dark of a long red-light stop, a tiny old woman is going through the traffic, tapping each window with a paper cup, hand to mouth. I give her 100 rupees. Raj says the money goes to her drunk husband or 'boss' and I'll be the poor one if I keep giving. It's a theme we'll hear repeatedly. We can't know if it's true.
Arriving back at our hotel for a nightcap (via a bottle shop) Raj quickly dives into his small bottle of whiskey, turning morose, railing against the police, the muslim peril and musing on Debbie, Devvie, Devi.
We settle up, say thank you and good night. He squashes the crumpled rupees into a tight jeans pocket next to his cigarettes and settles down in his gloomy cab. We hope he doesn't lose the money grappling for his next smoke.
AKSHARDAM complex looks magnificent. Can't believe it was built relatively recently looks really ancient
ReplyDeleteJust gone back in and watched water show quite amazing!!!!
ReplyDelete