India has been described to me as a third-world country, but I’d hesitated to accept that characterization because of the pejorative. However, this is the view from my 3-star hotel room.
A view like this is why good photography skills are useful. There’s an interesting narrative to be shared in the smoggy and foggy morning: figures sifting through a pile of debris, the peeling paint on local flat-tops reminding one of an ancient auntie whose lipstick has bled.
In speaking with a colleague last night, I commented that what I’ve seen in my short journey is that Gurgaon is a blending of the old and new, smack-dab adjacent so the spiffy high rise abuts a decrepit house where the yard is littered with garbage.
And the smell of smoke permeates everything.