Even The Dirt in India is Colorful

Even The Dirt in India is Colorful

From an empty rooftop restaurant to an underground dhaba, the food was spot on and the people are colorful in more than just their clothing. On top of Lord Krishna Hotel the view of Delhi’s main bazar was nothing short of breathtaking. It was the quintessential excitement of an Indian city, but there are few things that get the sense heightened like finding yourself in the midst of it. The smells alone were almost overwhelming; everything from fresh Dal Fry to trash, chapati to incense, burning petrol and the mysterious scent that musters from a supersaturation of people in one area. But don’t think the sounds will let the smells stand out. No way. From noon to 9pm there is barely a pause in the relentless beeping of horns, but it suits the driving style, the flow of traffic and it compliments the chatter and occasional yelling of the people. There are the first three photos I took in India.

Delhi Bazar colors
Delhi Bazar rickshaws

Delhi Bazar

As I moseyed through the bazaar at dawn it was a different world, serene and quite, but around 8am it was returning to the chaos it had been. The previous night a friend from Norway had told me that the sure sign of a good local restaurant, or dhaba, was the exclusive use of traditional stainless steel plates & cups so with keen eyes I walked around the bazar and before long there was a packed dhaba with indians eating and drinking from stainless steel. Inside, there was nothing that I would have assumed to be an empty seat but the owner looked at my funny when I asked him if there was room for me. He motioned me in and pointed to a booth made for four with only three sitting at it and looked like it would accommodate two so I took the one open seat. In all the chaos and confusion (the confusion was just on my part) I got the perfect recommendation from the owner Aloo Dosa. Then in what I have come to know as the typical Indian way, the man across from me said Namaste and asked me how long I had been in India. He was Saroop, an electrical engineer, and although he was far from the first friendly and talkative India I had met, he was indeed the first that had not tried to sell me something so we hit it off over some fresh breakfast and lemon tea.


This is Swaroop, I couldn’t understand him when he was telling me his name so he wrote it on his hand.


swaroop plate

The aftermath of the morning rush






  1. Mark Morano · July 6, 2014

    Awesome Vinny

  2. Erica · July 11, 2014

    Beautiful colors, love the first image, its good to see a new post : )

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