I'm watching this movie about a kind hearted cab driver called Amal. He drives customers all over New Delhi in his rickshaw, and never over charges them (a rarity in India). One day he drives a millionaire dressed in rags, who has been searching for the last scrap of moral fiber in society; and someone he can leave his fortune to. Amal's story is laced with humility and unfortunate events that leave the viewer with a sneaky suspicion that rich men aren't necessarily the happiest. I won't spoil it for you, but I enjoyed it.
Amal brought me straight back to India. I mean to say .. I can feel myself there again. Masses of people everywhere, crazy drivers, an underlying sense of chaos and confusion, and a loose sense of public conduct - at least by Western standards. Indian people are reaaall hustlers too. When I was there, I always felt like people were trying to scam me into paying more than was necessary. Everyone's just trying to make a dollar, make a living, and they straight up play the game and don't give a fuck really.
I loved India, and I hated it. In a way it reminded me a lot of Jamaica in the sense that the people are passionate, loud, straight forward and crass - a mix of rich and poor, and little in between. Indian food made me swoon, the candor of the locals made me laugh, and their public bathrooms disgusted me. But that's the beauty of India. It's far from perfect - it's a world where people are REAL. When I get my yoga certification, I'm definitely going to buy myself a ticket and head straight there. I'll just make sure to pack lots of hand sanitizer and source as much fruits and veggies this time around.
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