Wot choo looking at?

So I’m more used to the auto drivers now. I even have a bit of a laugh with them when negotiating in Hindi. I still occasionally jump when car horns toot but mostly not. There are things to do for fun and places to relax. I’m settled and happy.

So why does the staring get to me sometimes? It’s like there is no one around who isn’t Indian other than me. And it’s not just men, its women too. Even when I’m going to work and my clothes are more Indian, it doesn’t make a difference.

Granted sometimes you can tell that the person staring may not be a Dilliwallah and could be from a rural village. You see everyone comes to Delhi to work. That’s why some sleep on the side of the street. Construction workers often build tent-like homes from bricks on a spare bit of pavement. You see whole families cooking, washing and living their lives side-by-side with the traffic.

So what gives me the right to get wound up? On the rare day that it does now I have a little chat to myself and think...ladyee, you are rich in comparison. Just deal with it.

Pic from http://blogs.sacbee.com/photos/2010/04/indias-national-census.html