INDIA Sunday 9-3-08

   We have to begin our Indian web page with an apology. It is impossible to write about this diverse and vast continent without filling a
   book. Our web site is by far too small for India and therefore, we concentrate on the few places we visit on our journey home to Brunei.
   India's landscapes range from the world highest mountains to the tropical coasts, she is home for Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs,
   Jains, Buddhists and Jews.
   And with various people and religions came a variety of ethnicities, their art and architecture, custom and language, of music and
   dance. This gave India its identity. Or none at all.
   A half hour before sunset on the border crossing from Wagah a 30 km east from Lahore we and about a thousand other spectators
   looked at one of the greatest spectacles this area can offer. It is the flag lowering ceremony on both sides. On the Indian side is a sign
   "Our great India" on the Pakistan's arch it says "Long live Pakistan."

    
                    Double fences along the separation                                   

       
             At the rear Pakistan, spectators rushing                                  Have we not had this cockscomb in old Rom?               

                      
                                       the cheer men in Pakistan Green                                                                 An Indian ranger                  

               
           "Pakistan! Pakistan! Pakistan!" the crowd shouted feverish                        But girls dancing on the Indian side
 
   Loudspeakers on full blast on both sides. On the Indian side music, which girls used to show off, only brave enough in groups,
   interrupted by shouts "India". On the Pakistani side their music screamed out of oversized speakers and "Pakistan" shouts from the
   crowd." was heard. Every side wanted to be louder than the other. Even the call for prayer was over toned by Indian music. Girls laugh
   while swinging their backsides and clapping their hands. while "Aaalaah hu akbar" the call for prayer came over the border. And when
   the tall, selected, good looking rangers marched synchronized to the gate the crowd clapped and screamed. Both side synchronize
   their moves. Reaching the gate they open and shut it with much clanging  in a series of moves, some in aggressive posture to each
   other and  facial expression of the same.
   Eventually with crossed ropes they lower their flags which is neatly folded  and respectfully carried away.

       
                                                                       synchronized march to the gate

                
                              slamming the booth                                                               the Pakistani watchful synchronies            

                  
                                the gates close for the day                                                         flag is carried away

    Again the crowed cheers hysterically and claps their hands.
    Off course you as a traveled and intelligent reader see more behind this spectacle. All postures show "See how strong we are"
   "Dare you try anything and you see what you get". But for tonight, the world is right again.
    On the border we met elderly Gerd a journalist from Berlin and, as one helps always each other when meet in foreign land  he came
    with us, sitting up on the roof rack. Gracefully he waved down to passing motorists, and the policeman forgot to close his mount. He
    may have thought., 'These crazy foreigners'. His few hair strains where flying and one or the other left its roots torn out by the wind.
   Surly he was bolder, when we reached Amritsar.
   Dusk had come. It was a driving nightmare in the city. People, tricycles and motorcycles are every where. Curving our way through the
   town on roads filled with people, the thumb on our "Eschiptian" double horn installed in Aswan until smoke came from the fuse box, we
   reached the Golden Temple. It is the holiest of holy Sikh shrines, and was several times in the past  flashpoint of religious and political
   conflicts. Over 400 years ago Amritsar was founded by Gura Ram Das. The city takes is name from the sacred pool surrounding the
   temple. (amrit-nectar, sar-pool) In the beginning of the 19th century the Sikh ruler Ranjit Singh rebuild it in marble and gold.

    
                                                 the golden temple surrounded by the sacred pool

   Men undress and bath in it, women wash their hands and faces. In groups they move clockwise around the pool singing and praying
   A community kitchen is operated, where the needy can feed themselves for free. There must be many, as in the washing of the metal
   plates were about twenty people involved. 40,000 a day say the books.

                          

                 
                                                If Dukh Bhanjani is to eradicate suffering, he has allot to do in India.

   After this short visit we drove into the night along a highway towards Delhi.
   Now, if you dear reader are of Indian decent we are sorry but for the sake of truth we got to tell about. Most of the 450 km to Delhi it
   stinks of human excrements. People go into the roadside bushes for "the big one". We crossed an area where just this bush was
   burning. Has anyone smelled burning human excrement ever? The stink drifted over the road into the car, for miles and miles.
   Later, sleeping at the petrol station, we had no choice. The smell of human waste is present.

.   
            The liquid is black, shiny and smells like a manhole                                                as worst as it can be

     Monday 10-3-08

   The canal is a 50 miles long sewer smelling like the manhole at your house. All effluents of villages next by, flow untreated into it. The
   water is black, dead and stinks. "The country suffers the environmental degradation and pollution from affluence and rapidly growing
   industry, and holds the dubious honor for it." said the  Ministry of Environment themselves. We the foreigner traveling this land say:
   " India man you are in trouble with Nature! Watch out she will fight back on you one day. By disease, by epidemics or as she pleases
    otherwise. She will get rid of your mistreatment."
   Water tables are diminishing, Sacred rivers teem with bacteria. Timber, mining and paper industries have depleted your forests
   Unenforced Industry regulations led to environmental disasters like a cyanide leak from Union carbide (look who is here?) which killed
   3500 people in sleep.
   Coca Cola in their plant in Pachimada used up to 1.5 million liters of ground water daily until banned. It dumped toxic waste, high on
   heavy metals on farmland. Coca cola and Pepsi were found to have "shocking" levels of pesticides in their bottles.
   Mercury poisoning  is a huge problem. Dumping of high toxic chemicals by Multinationals such as Unilever which make thermometers
   for the US market, caused birth defects, tumors on lungs and  kidneys. The North Koel river contains up to 700 times above   
   permissible levels of mercury. If you see there people limping along or shaking uncontrollable, they might have drunk the river water, a
   few liters too much. Gone is the human, remaining a figure only for the rest of his miserable live. All for the profit of a Multi!

   That reminds us of an Aluminum smelter plant in the pipeline for Brunei. Has an INDEPENDENT environmental assessment study
   been made? Is it made public?  Out of 10 tons ore they will import, 9 tons will remain for ever in our beloved and green Brunei. Where
   to put it if they do not take it back? Is it toxic? How much? Can it create birth defects? We read in the internet that during the electric
   melting process, if temperatures on the Anodes falls to certain level, gases are produced which cause Prostate cancer and damage
   your reproductive system (you future kids may be idiots), nerves and more.
   Could it be that the Multinationals look for countries with lash regulations to operate their profitable business with all the devastating
   consequences? If something happen, how good it is not in Australia/Europe or America where the government regulations of filtration,
   safety and fines make their eyes water and shareholders wallets empty. Is it that the filters they use here are less effective and back
   home it would cost them allot more to protect the people and environment?
   Why one must ask do they prefer to ship thousands of miles bauxite the ore of which 90% becomes waste? Why is it one finds these
   plants in cold Patagonia or in the African bush where law is far and bribe close? Off course there are plants in Industrial countries. But
   with triple security. Is this applied for our beloved Brunei?
   A serious question needs serious answer! But foremost an independent assessment study must be made public! The people of
   Brunei do to have a say in it. It will affect us all! Otherwise the Almighty forbid ,we may end up like some unfortunate  Indians.
   Yes, dear Brunei reader we have to watch out. All of us.
   By the way, here in India the Bihar coalmines fires started in 1916, they burn ever since. Meanwhile 70 of them, impossible to
   extinguish, causing Asthma, chronic bronchitis, skin and lung diseases.

   The highway to Delhi, highway, a word itself misleading. There is a double lane road yes, but used by everyone, including cows and
   should the need arise, cars come from the  opposite direction as the U turn is too far for them.

            
                        Indian highway bus in opposite direction                                                      other road users               

        
       cow dung for sale to heat the home and meals             they hold the record! 6 on a scooter (one more behind between two women)

   Forest depleted we said, but winter is cold. Therefore cow and buffalo dung become useful. While in richer countries it is used to
   fertilize arable farmland, here it is much too valuable. A buffalo is a treasure as it was in Kenya back those days. He is
   pampered and cleaned, cared for, more than for the kids which arrive by the year, often unwanted. This "family feeder" will provide
   some little milk, plenty dung to be sold if good fed and he pull the carriage for little transport business too.
   Dung has many uses is meanwhile realized.
   It repels mosquitoes, it is a fine insulator for plastic walls, and even may produce biogas.

      
          the best cared individual in a Indian farmers family                        the buffalo provided the construction material- dung  

   The almost perfect rubbish converter! In front she is chewing an fruit drink container, at the rear appears what is still useful for
   a hungry doggie. 

               
                          Highway  passing through villages                                    Delhi;  first die the tress, then- slowly the polluters

   By 3:00 pm we reached the Moloch with 5 million vehicles and 32 million inhabitants. Somewhere here is our High Commission. It was
   difficult to find. Why? First this incredible traffic, second, looking farther than 700 meter is impossible. we could not see the sun nor
   landmarks.  Polluted air. Dust and smoke, since Pakistan, all the way we came. No one can live a healthy life here. Believe us dear
   reader, unless you wear an unpleasant gasmask for 24 hours!

          
   JAMBO was washed. But next morning, look at my finger and the dust which settled meanwhile. It crawls into lungs of everyone. worst
   than chain-smoking, with all the bacteria and viruses in the air.
   The fine staff of our High Commission welcomed us. We had not advised them in advance as we did not know whether in Pakistan
   we still go up the Karakorum highway (which we did not because of security) and therefore did not know when we arrive in Delhi. Yet
   the welcome was as everywhere form the heart as one of the Brunei family. Only three men stay at present on this outpost.
   Acting High Commissioner His Excellency Pengiran Mahari Pg Hj Sulaiman, Hj Mohd Maeraj Hj Mohd Sanip and Ak Syed Addy
   Izwandy.  And last not least the first secretary Hjh Mariana, which unfortunately was sick at the time. They were helpful in every way.
   We got an invitation for dinner too, where Harun longing for some green, eat too much salad resulting in a cramped belly and a terrible
   "Montezuma", The first on the journey. We ate in a hotel where a night sleep cost US$ 400.- and therefore thought they pay their
   cooks well enough to clean the green. It was a mistake.

     Tuesday 11-3-08

   We had to stay two full days for a Bangladesh visa, as we do not know if a Myanmar transit will be approved. Bhutan is out of our
   routing. They would not issue  visas for foreign cars and solo travelers.
   Bangladesh is likely our options as Myanmar is still unresolved. If we cannot get through, JAMBO has to be shipped to Thailand or
   Malaysia. Less liked, but unavoidable.
   One does not go out into the street if possible, so we too minimized our movement. But in the evenings we went for a meal together.

         
                on the still empty table but afterwards.... Indian cuisine                                    for the remembrance

     Wednesday 12-3-08

   The High Commission in an effort to accelerate the tourism business for Brunei had invited one of the leading tourist agencies in Delhi.
   A fruitful discussions resulted in agreements to work jointly on a proposal for up to 10 days holidays, including the acesant
  destinations like Mulu and Kota Kinabalu. Lot to do once we are back.

                                  
 
   No news yet from the Myanmar Embassy here, but we waited the day out and used it to look a bit at the poor end of  living. Not far
   away exist a slum  where farmers which ventured into the town for work as laborer. They earn 1200 rupees per month. U$ 30.-.

              
                He collects plastic, stuffed into bags to sell and makes a living out of it.  They "steal" government water from a well

         
                      No one cares anymore for any tidiness                                   that is about the lowest form of human existence

         
                                        This is a home, the owner was sleeping with his child

     
       pigs have a fine living in the rubbish; unless chased by dogs                               A temple and faith is always good business

                

   Look at the children's eyes. They have a soul, but no future. They have a brain - but no understanding yet. The boy is full of  fear and
   do not know why. And we the onlookers have a conscience, a brain to think, a soul for eternity, a heart and what do we do to help? 

                  
                                      Rich man whom did you help?                                                    she is from the slum

   Long ago I red somewhere in holy scriptures, what became a leading motive of my life, You dear reader is welcome to join.
   How you may ask? Allah has given you a brain a conscience and a heart. Use them together!

.Open your mouth for the destitute (Who has nothing)
 and the right of the dumb.
Open your mouth, decree what is just
and defend the needy and poor

   Then you will dislike manipulation as you see it, you will dislike ignorance and try to correct it, you will see lies and expose them,
   you realize injustice and speak out against, you see greed and their effects, you judge the misuse for power and money, and the
   ever- present couple, pride and stupidity.
   Too many of these attributes, all made by the fellow from "below", are still here on our god given planet.
   Times must change for the better.
   A visit at the poorest of the poor  brings deep thoughts and remorse. Have I done enough? Can I do more, much more to help?

     Thursday 13-3-08

   It was farewell for us, we planned to drive to Agra where the Taj Mahal was standing in all majesty.
   For a last photo we assembled in front of JAMBO our trusted companion at the doorsteps of our High Commission.

       
              The Brunei staff, His Excellency Pg Mahari in blue shirt                                  And the complete staff

   Again as many times before we have to thank for the kindness and the warm hospitality, and say it again. That is Brunei. We were
   glad to leave this unhealthy place called Delhi. Gradually Embassies and foreign dignitaries relocate offices out from central Delhi into
   cheaper and cleaner high rise buildings, on the outskirt. Just as in Kuala Lumpur. And it make sense. Economically and health wise.
   For staff and families, for the visitor not to struggle through traffic, inhaling hours high levels of carbon monoxide to reach the
   destination. Besides in the world of electronic a visa application could be done via the computer. If you dear reader would ask me if I
   would be an Excellency in Delhi, with a "No thank you" I decline  knowing one year there will cut my live short of five or more.
   People get frequent sick and that has a reason, It is this terrible air pollution..
   There is no living quality in Delhi, not even a living. It is a life between the aircon of the car and the home. Never again we come to Delhi
   we vowed to ourselves unless for a real important reason.
   The road to Arga is as usual long, blocked  by trucks and generally smelly,
   We came to see Taj Mahal. She is a kings monument of grief turned into a wonder of the world. Master builders came from Baghdad
   calligraphers from Shiraz in today Iran. From Jaipur came the marble the
   sandstone  from Sikri, from Tibet turquoise from Arabia coral and from Persia onyx.

   The most creative years in the Moghul history was between 1526 and 1657.  
   The greatest Mongul is said to be one Akbar who in 1556 inherited the throne, when barely in his teens. Great he was indeed. ( or his
   advisors) building an empire which lasted 200 years. It is said he was a military genius. In nine days he marched 1000 km to defeat
   the enemy. And then controlled virtually all of North- and central India. Although illiterate, he became patron of arts and literature had
   300 wives and 5000 concubines.
   (If he does "it" twice a day it takes him 7 years to start with the first one  again).
   However that was him. Here in Arga he established his capital. His grandson Shah Jahan, expanded and strengthen the
   Empire. Monuments left by  Shah Jahan include the Taj Mahal. He was devoted to his wife Mumtaz Mahal. and she bore him
   14 children and died giving him birth of the last a daughter.

   His hair was white within days it is said. That might be legend but he went into mourning for two year, did not hear music anymore,
   but  build her in 18 years this mausoleum.

      
                 That is it; the well build memorial of a great love                                                          another side view

      
                                  Details of the marble floors                                                          and Harun looking and wondering

                                  
                                                                   entrance view strikingly  balanced

        
                Arabic inscriptions on the entrance                                          finest white marble not withered in 300 years

   In the Mogul Empire rose outstanding poets. Emperors and princes were deeply concerned with metaphysic, ( e.g. who am I?).
   Shah Jahan fame rests  in the creation of Taj Mahal in memory of his queen which had died giving birth to his 14th child.

.       
    Here he rests alongside his beloved wife. The lamp of eternity shines over them        Would she have looked like one of them?

   Shah Jahan spend his last years in jail. Imprisoned by one of his sons Aurangzeh, who killed his brothers, locked away Shah Jahan.
   His father,sitting years in the fort prison gazing at Taj Mahal. The former king a prisoner by his own son who killed
   all brothers? Another ruthless family drama on the stage of history.
   The complex is enclosed by high walls and several mosques. As you may know the Shahs family were Muslim.
           
                           High walls surrounding the area of Taj Mahal and monkeys searching for a meal

       
              One of the  adjacent Mosques                                            Close up of the main axis through the mosque towards Mecca

   We, wandering between all these splendid monuments of love and devotion, of glory and power, directed our way slowly back among
   thousands of Indians which came to see the monuments too. To feel great, having forefathers who could achieve such beautiful
   monuments. And all that for a woman!.
   They came from a separate entrance wandering bar feet and light, no entrance charges for them. We walked light too. Why?
   It was the entrance fee which cleaned us of our cash reserves. US$ 5.- entrance fee, that is 200.- rupees alright. But then the taxes!
   The town slaps another 250.- as cultural tax and  additional 300.- Indian rupees as rip-off, sorry, we mean "foreigners have plenty  
   money" tax. That was 3 times the price of our hotel room! ia kah!
   Our visit we ended with a ride in a tricycle back to our hotel. He, pushing us up the road, became symbol for the hardship and
   endurance of the Indian common man.

     Friday 14-3-08

   What you say now? Yesterday we vowed "never Delhi again" and Sunday we return. It is the visa. "Yes, we got the Myanmar transit
   letter from the Ministry of Foreign affairs" confirmed by the e-mail from our Embassy in Yangon, and The Myanmar second secretary in
   Delhi, Ms Khin called up too. "Now we need flowers" said Harun as he promised her to bring a bunch, should we get a visa. we called
   up and will get it on Monday morning.
   The day was filled with web page writing and a bit of relaxing. Taj Mahal is closed on Fridays.

   Saturday 15-3-08

   Early morning JAMBO with us on board headed west towards Rajasthan and the city of Jaipur or "victory". It was easy driving as after
   about 50 km  a new highway is under construction bypassing all villages, usually bottlenecks in distance and time.
   What a relive cruising it was and the clean air again! Thank you, all of you who build this road. A few sheep did not matter.
   Suddenly, India out here is not too bad after all.

             

   Along the road was a stretch close to mountains were the quarry red marble. We stopped at a factory, that is a shed and 10 men
   working with hand tools. Just as 1300 years ago.

   Artists forming in marble the facade of a temple.

     

            
                             scenes out of the world of deities                                   finest marble work by chisel hammer and skilled hand

                                
                                                 with his skill in he could make  good living  the west    

   A narrow road leads into town, on both sides hills and remains of a former palace. Jaipur was founded in 1728. it has seven entrance
   gates, still in use today.

         
              Looking at it, one can imagine the time when those buildings were inhabited and full of life.

           
                   It was in Jaipur  where JAMBO met JUMBO                                         and I found a strong rischka driver

               
                where nomads make their home along the road                                            and some girls dress sexy, but cover the face

                     
                            where the Ironing business exists on the roadside                 and pressing a dress cost 10 cents Brunei

   A wonder some world is India indeed, this country of 1.2 billion where around 340 million live below the poverty line, and less than
   75 million households only are of middle class including the much praise IT (700.000 ) and service industry. Where the overall literacy
   is by 75 %, but only every second woman know to read and write, and here in Rajasthan only every 5th you meet on the road.
   Where since the early 90ties, foreigner may own 51% of a corporation, having the say, and the rupee was made free convertible.
   Where foreign consumer goods of the middle class do not come from hard work but rather from credit.
   Housing loans increased threefold, car loans doubled and personal loans tripled. The money has to come from somewhere. Eager   
   financiers are standby  (World bank, IMF ,Wall street  (here again?) and "city of London's" private bankers among others)

   India's  fiscal dept runs at 10% of the GDP, and eats up all valuable remittances from abroad. Therefore the Indian working outside,   
   including Brunei, pays for the interest of money, borrowed by his government.
   See the system? "lend  money out, collect interest ,people of the country pay for it. Accumulate and use the interest on loan (the
   peoples tax money) now to build skyscrapers  and estates, rent them out again or, but only if profitable, construct factories, The
   foreign banker own these. Not the countries people. Work hard and  cheap, otherwise he might  closes them.
   The banker get richer by the minute as long as the loan remains outstanding.

   Where according to the UN less than 50% have access to essential drugs and there is  chronic shortage  of health facilities. 44 beds
   for 100.000 people! The country has one of the lowest spending on health, only every third Indian has access to adequate sanitation  
   (that is why the stink along the road near villages) and 47 % of children under the age of 5, suffer from malnutrition.
   Education goes down the drain too. Only 50% of kids between 6 and 14 years are enrolled in school. And these are still many. It is  
   hard to imagine, where the jobs for the literate workforce will come from. What about the illiterate? (Inside Guide India).
   "Thank you Allah we were born in Brunei!"

   Sunday 16-3-08

   It was RTB day again, at 6:45 am in the morning in Jaipur. The electric wires hung there as always, the elegant institute (what is that?)
   will be finished one day soon, in the  corner a footstall open early. Youngsters made Semosa out of chili and potatoes, not that clean
   though, and the cook fried Chelaby,  cringles mixed with sugar syrup.

              
                                Sunday morning in Jaipur                                         calling Rampi Pagi from the roadside at 9:40 in Brunei

    The towns resemble very much the Philippines, lots of old dark shops, where on the light bulb is saved, and in-between sporadic
    new fashion shops brightly lit up and, next a fast food restaurant, fairly clean.

    The old city is entered through one of the gates by all traffic including an elephant lady, which as we can see is looking for a husband.
    why else would she be beautified?

   The facade 5 story high, is the HAWA MAHAL in the city palace. There was this poet king Sawai Pratrap Sing. He was a lover of lyric,
   poetry, of beauty in architecture but foremost of many women to please his eyes and desires. The pleasure of flesh was high in the
   daily menu. And let's face it dear reader which has not yet passed the age of repentance, if you are king with all the cuisine at hand,
   would you eat every day the same meal? Like fried rice? A few days maybe, but soon the rice does not taste. Or what is the spicy    
   chicken  worth after a while?  Which you have turned and checked out from the neck to the legs before you "consumed" it?  Even
   prepared with different spices it will be one day a complain: "again this hen?". Man longs by nature for new experiences, even as a
   married king. These days back, morality was not, as we know it anyhow. What wonders that the king soon long for a difference,
   perhaps and preferable a fresh "green"   veggie ? But even she would no extinguish such flame of desires and a whole bunch of fresh
   selected, unplugged little roses picked by luring men out of "country's ever blooming  gardens" were brought to the palace to serve the
   king, in silk garment or without. Such a  king, almost a god for his people, was jealous.

                            
                                              the "Peep house"                                                                       The bazaar under

   What he had  touched must not be seen for life by a dirty commoner! On the other hand, palace life was boring  for the ladies, so they
   begged long enough and he build high enough, a house for the "Peep show". No, not what you may think now. The peep house was
   made for the  ladies to look down the puzzling bazaar, and the strong young men carrying the market loads up and down the road.
   They, in bodies formed by hard work were aware of them and the one or other was brave enough to wave up as by mistake, and surely
   a few heartbeats increase on the windows followed by regret to be up here and not in his arms somewhere in a dark and cozy corner.
   The  kings fire, which made so much steam in his youth, was by now a little, flickering flame, he himself while still trying to be a long
   traveling train, was only going a few meters, as his locomotive had only a "pfaff" for a few minutes. That disappoint the female
   passenger longing for a distant journey.
   The "peep house", the place of unfulfilled erotic desires stands on the main bazaar.
 
                                   
                                     How many dreams have been dreamed behind glass; before the king called again?

   In the afternoon we drove back to Delhi for our visa tomorrow.

     Monday 17-3-08

   Miss Khin the second counselor of the Myanmar Embassy  flushed like a tomato when Harun gave her the Lilies with a "We love 
   you".   The promised flowers we purchased on the way earlier, her face was all a smile. A cute  lady, she was in charge of our visas.
   We got them by 2 pm with a letter to the border authorities. Promising an E mail, we left a happy someone behind.

   In the last weeks and month, we had entirely forgotten that with us is still  US$ 350.- from Wolfgang and Eva, to give wherever we
   think it is needed. Andreas reminded us, who wrote yesterday and asked how he can send money for the poor. The memory came
   as a shock! Gosh we forgot! Sorry Eva and Wolfgang. It must be the stress or Alzheimer?  In the middle of hunger we forgot the bowl
   of rice from you. We did go back to the slums. It was a moving experience and money well spend.

              
                          80kg rice 40 kg dall  (linsen)                                                for some unfortunate people of this slum

          
                               two packets each                                                                a picture of desperation

        
                               holding his head                                                                   "Mum look what I got"

                            
                                                   That was something                              Our Embassy driver helped with the distribution
 
                     At noon we went home for a good shower and then to the tower named QUTB -MINAR

                                    
   The world famous tower was build by one Qutbuddjn Aibak of the Mamluk Dynasty in the 12th century, and  only completed 50 year
    later. In 1368 a lightning hit the upper part,  200 years  passed until it was replaced. After another 200 years, the "thunder god"
   struck again. But with little damage this time. The tower is 72 m high and has at the base a diameter of 14m. The top can be reached 
   inside in 379 steps. Decorative ornaments and inscriptions on the facade make the tower an example of Islamic geometrical
   architecture.           

     Astonishing details, note the door above; the tower has stairs inside to reach the top. Close ups expose fine ornamental details 

   below is the supposed translation of the writings on the metal pillar. The fact is this iron pillar is 1700 years old. Why it does not
   corrode? UFOlogist speculate the metal composition is of some secret mix of visitors from outer space. But to believe it, that is left
   to you.

      

   The unfinished MINAR  is named after Ala-ud Din Khaji who in the turn of the 13th century wanted to outdo the adjacent QUTB-MINAR,
   and since he made an enlarged mosque to size it accordingly. Before completion he died, the construction stopped. It was to become
   a giant of over 100 m height

          
                              The uncompleted ALAI MINAR has still a function. Nesting place for a parrot couple

                                                     The Islamic ALAI DARWAZA complex

                   
                                  arcades in the complex                                                       former entrance door to the mosque

             
                             another view of the covered arcade                                         detail of a pillar, not the figures

   At 4 pm, we left Delhi towards Lucknow a city 500 km east.

   We met him at a junction. It must have been polio which deformed him that much. The left, thin arm was loose, swinging in the elbow
   like a pendulum, he had to hold it. The left eye was completely closed, with the other he could look but he had to bend his head. I was
   not sure if he recognized me. With  pain in the heart we gave a little relieve. Has he ever felt happiness?
   He is young, and has a life before him. Does he have he right  to die early ending his suffering? In Buddhism his sickness is Karma
   in the cycle of rebirth. What you sow you shall reap! Has his karma of a previous life made him like he is now? Is he paying for sins
   and crimes done before? Was he send by the Almighty to try us? Who knows the answer. 

   The tricycle taxi  is as all, overloaded. Next to the driver are three more people, he steers his "kalescha" from the side reaching out for
   his pedals. "All is under control" in Indian style.
   A school class under the tree, no class rooms for the kids, but better than nothing.

         
      The men are of TOYOTA stormed out, when they saw our JAMBO, 

   The right picture is a story by itself. It is a railway crossing in which everyone has to wait. The authorities aware of the rascal driving
   made already a concrete separator, that drivers do not overtake. But as seen it does not help. They still drive front on the wrong side
   and when the barrier open, squeeze in, by the "power of dents" in their, and your car. No, we do not complain, we just tell you.
   It was 9:00 pm when we finally curved into the yard after 135 km. In five hours. Checking into a roadside hotel.
   When looking at the toilet,  the former occupant left his stomach contain in the wash basin and no one cleaned up. We choose to
   sleep in "Hotel de la Jambo."

          
                                                                                                    INDIA 
     Tuesday 18-3-08                                                       

   It was this Indian morning, driving towards the east. Smoke and haze are your companions like the never-ending traffic confusion.
   Completely fed up with the traffic, we turned in Bareily North trying to enter Western Nepal at Tanakpur. It was the right decision! After
   two hours and slowly decreasing smoke  we crossed the lake on the dam to the bush border between India and Nepal. I took a deep
   breath. The air was clean, birds sung their melodies in the trees, life was good again with us. With much better spirit we completed
   the simple border formalities, no one checked the car and we entered Nepal the land of many Gods and Mysteries.

        
     Crossing the lake and dam wall. Ahead is Nepal. You could see a mile again              Yes, we are here

     If you like dear reader, then click NEPAL where our journey continues.