Driving from Khajuraho to Delhi makes for a very long day; 15 hours to be precise. Right when you think you are moving along pretty good you enter the craziness of a town or there is road construction or the road just plain sucks. While aimlessly staring out the back window of our car I couldn’t help but think about the poverty of this place. It is so sad when a young mother covered in dirt and grim approaches you begging for food for herself and her baby. The baby is clinging to her mother as she rests on her hip; staring at you with hopelessness in their eyes. And then there are the times when you are in the car and there is the endless tapping of the fingers on the windows. There is also the lame or disfigured boy; crawling around in the filth and garbage of the streets. And the young toddler playing in the gutter while cars speed by within feet of her. These are only a few of the many scenes that I have observed while here in India. My heart aches for all those who have not been blessed in the ways that I have. It makes me very grateful for the family, opportunities, and blessings in my life.
On a different note, if the driving in this country is crazy then it takes on a whole new level of craziness when you drive at night. People seem to creep out of the shadows and there are the endless sounds of horns mixed with the smells of diesel fuel and the occasional wretched scents of sewer and burning garbage. All of which when combined together make for an experience that I will not soon forget.
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