Desh Satthiya gaya...

Today is India’s 59th independence day. Thus begins independent India's 60th year. Lets us hope the title above does not ring true.

Our flat in Delhi overlooks a little park, which has seen much bonhomie this morning. B-10’s young and old alike gathered to sing, perform, and generally raise some noise to mark the occasion. That much of the singing was off key, and that people were as tolerant of older folks trying to hog the stage as they were of little kids, was not of much importance.

On TV, prime minister Manmohan Singh announced from the ramparts of the Red Fort India’s resolve to fight terrorism, her hopes for future generations, and so on. He does not make much of an inspiring speaker.

I arrived in Delhi yesterday, early in the morning. My flight from Beijing stopped off at Shanghai, where we changed planes, before touching down about 30 minutes before time at IGI airport in Delhi. On the flight I bumped into a group of eight Chinese engineers who were headed to Rajkot in Gujarat to help in highway construction. They were delighted to learn that I could speak a little Chinese. I happened to sit next to one of them from Shanghai to Delhi and we attempted a reasonable conversation, almost entirely in Chinese, since his English could hardly pass muster. I have now been invited to drink baijiu when he is in Beijing next.

It feels great to be back home. Delhi’s skies are definitely bluer than Beijing’s. But Delhi is also much more of a grand mess than Beijing is.