The not-so-secret diary

It is a strange feeling indeed to be an Indian (of sorts) in Southeast Asia. Years ago, in smoke-filled pubs of London, it felt perfectly logical to have the Goodness Gracious Me -inspired argument that only one outcome was acceptable: ‘We did it first in India’. Fortunately, the pubs became smoke-free, and I could spend an evening without needing an instant dry-clean for my coat or a deep-cleansing hair wash after each visit. I digress, as usual. This time, as I traverse around Bangkok, I have been filled a growing realisation that indeed, many ideas, beliefs and practices did emerge first in India. Equal is the wonder at how delicately they got assimilated in the local culture and acquired a uniqueness that can only be described in this trite but useful phrase- same same but different . Lest you await the hackneyed confession ‘I truly found myself’ (and there are many ways of finding oneself in Bangkok!), let me assure you there has been no such miraculous moment of discovery for me....

On a cold January morning, by the foothills of the Himalayas in northern India, I ushered in 2024 with my family. Back in Delhi, the smog showed little sign of receding. Through the smoky and dust-hued sky, we occasionally witnessed shards of sunlight, a reminder that our planet's bright star has not abandoned us just yet. Fortunately for me, a new adventure awaited. Before the month was over, I had landed about 3000 km east of India in Thailand. Upon alighting from the plane, my jacket was promptly stuffed at the bottom of the suitcase. Within 24 hours I was hitting the shops to buy t-shirts. Because, as everyone knows, you can never have enough t-shirts in a hot and humid country. Over the last few months I have been serenading my social circle with a Whats App-based photo journal. It is finally time to do the proper thing, which is to pen down my experiences for immortality (or till robots take over the earth). I had been to Bangkok several times before as a tourist. H...