Colour and noise saluted me as I left the airport, and very nearly so did my money. Do you need a taxi sir. Would you like some diamonds. Handmade shirts. The choice was phenomenal, but my first purchase was a crate of bottled water, with the seals still intact. That night as I watched the sun set over the Indian Ocean I was tempted to start a new life. Every thing was so fresh, so vibrant, so cheap. I could live like a maharaja here. The next morning brought sanity of a sort, as I observed young girls squatting as they swept the lush lawn. Whilst bell boys hurried back and forth at the beck and call of the lastest batch of tourists to visit this fine coastal hotel. I spent the next ten days spending my hard earned cash away from the hotel. Saddened by the poverty and leprosy, I hope that I left India a more thoughtful individual.
Footnote: Genre Memoirs.