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Out of the City


MUMBAI—I had been too long in Mumbai. I had been too long with only the banyan trees of the city with their long tentacle roots for a taste of nature, the only horizon the Arabian Sea rolling in at the edge of the metropolis. But then one person introduced me to someone who introduced me to another and an organization of good repute needed the kind of work I do. Early one morning I found myself pushing thorough the commuter crowds onto one of the legendary Indian trains. After a time the city became sparser and there were open fields visible through the grime and rain smeared window. Then I found myself in a car and then another car and my spirits lifted as we drove over a rise and the land fell away into hillocks and shining rice paddies as far as I could see. The sky was dark storm grey and the air tasted of rain and I could hardly wait to stretch my legs and walk on an India not covered in concrete.


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