My Internal Critic: Yeah… this article is sh*t.”
Yea. Okay.
That’s Fair.
Welcome to Notes from the Road—a travel series where I try not to try so hard.
This will be more stream-of-consciousness than crafted narrative. Less editing, more honesty. I’ll definitely lose most of you, and I’ll probably cringe before hitting publish, but I’m hoping it helps me keep up with the daily “experience overwhelm” of traveling in India—and that some of the color and richness of this place pours through to those of you willing to ride it out with me.
Alright. Let’s catch you up.
Delhi, India
I spent five days in Delhi, based out of the Pahar Ganj neighborhood, which sits in the heart of the Old City. Even with my substantial reserves of optimism and enthusiasm, the shock of it all hit like a bag of recycled cans.
First Dates and Navigation
New city, new country. The first date is always about navigation. In India, it’s a lot—for obvious reasons, and some less obvious ones.
Yes, the streets are unpredictable and entirely indifferent to where you want to go. The big-picture “I’m-here-and-I-want-to-go-there” is its own challenge. But then there’s the moment-to-moment dance: Do you want to step on that broken glass? That sleeping dog? That garbage? And wait—where is the sidewalk? Or is that… cow shit? Dog? Human?
There’s the environment under your feet, but also the one around your body. The near-body zone. And it’s always in flux.
You’re not alone in that space. Two-, three-, and four-wheeled vehicles—motorized, pedaled, pushed, and pulled—all compete for the same few feet of terrain. They honk. You move. You duck, dodge, and squeeze. At one point, I had to wedge myself between a row of parked motorcycles or step into the street and hope the oncoming traffic would swerve around me (which, to my surprise, it reliably did).
And that’s just the physical navigation.
Now Add Social Navigation
I’m a tall white guy with a full backpack, constantly checking his phone and looking slightly lost. In other words: a neon sign for anyone selling anything. So you’re walking. You’re navigating. You’re ducking motorbikes. And now you’re also fending off touts, answering questions you didn’t ask for, and gently—but firmly—saying “no thank you” thirty times in the space of a block.
Then There Are the Eyes
What made it all more exhausting was the constant stares. As a white person in Delhi, I couldn’t walk a few steps without feeling the weight of eyes on me—many eyes. The men especially were experts at holding eye contact: intense, unflinching, even confrontational. I couldn’t always tell what it meant. Did they resent me? Were they just curious? Was I a novelty? A target? It wore me down after a while. Being that visible, all the time, is its own kind of fatigue. That’s worth exploring more later, like, is this how beautiful women feel everyday, and the more flamboyant flavor of gay men, and transgender people just on the edge of passing? Hmm…
What I Did While I Was There:
- I visited the bustling Chawri Bazaar and had some excellent food.
- I visited Jama Masjid, one of the oldest mosques in Delhi. The contrast between the chaos outside and the serenity within struck me. Inside the walls, families lounged on blankets. Kids played. Groups chatted and gossiped. Some prayed, but most were just being. It was like a day at the park. The mosque wasn’t just a sacred place—it was a beloved public space. That stayed with me.
- I walked over to Parliament and visited the Museum of India. The area around Parliament—New Delhi—felt like another country entirely. There were sidewalks. People wore pressed shirts and moved with purpose. These were folks with jobs, maybe even power.
- I visited Humayun’s Tomb, the first grand mausoleum of the Mughal emperors, often called the precursor to the Taj Mahal. It was stunning—built from red sandstone and white marble from Rajasthan. Later in my trip, I’d see the same material used in Jodhpur’s fort and even its homes.
- I spent an afternoon at Akshardham, the largest Hindu temple in India, and… it felt a bit like Indian Disneyland. Elephant carvings. Water shows. A kid’s play area. Ice cream. Over-the-top, yes—but also revealing. India doesn’t draw hard lines between devotion, entertainment, and family fun. Hmmm….
- On my final day, I caught a night train to Jodhpur. I also made the mistake of drinking sugarcane juice before the train… But that sh*t story—is for the next post.
So. Delhi.
Can I say I loved it?
No.
But that’s not really the point.
Delhi isn’t a city you fall in love with on a first date. It’s not trying to seduce you. It’s not gently inviting you in.
Delhi is a current. It moves. It pulls. It doesn’t care if you’re ready.
You can fight it (and trust me, I did), but it won’t change. It does its thing.
It’s loud. It’s overflowing. It’s relentless.
And it’s real in a way that’s hard to explain until you’ve been dropped in the middle of it.
Maybe, if a Hindu visited New York City, they’d feel the same way.
If I ever return, I’ll probably stay somewhere like Hauz Khas instead of Pahar Ganj. But either way, I’ll be a little more ready next time.
P.S.
Wow. You made it to the end! Thanks for being here. I’ll be back soon with the story of two days in Jodhpur and aahh…. that glass of sugarcane juice. sigh.
You don’t want to miss it.
Or maybe you do.
<3 OOLIN, On the Road: India
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Wow, Colin, I love your work!