The local Ustad (barber) doesn't just cut hair; he applies pressure points to cure your sinus. The Baniya (corner shop owner) knows your credit limit better than your bank. The vegetable vendor doesn't weigh produce; he judges your character by how you squeeze the tomatoes.

Look inside any auto-rickshaw or car. On the dashboard, you will see a small idol of Ganesh (the remover of obstacles), a crucifix, or a Quranic verse. Before turning the key, the driver taps the idol. You don't need a church or temple; your vehicle is a moving shrine.

The divine in me sees the divine in you. Now, let's go have some chai.

India runs on a calendar of festivals. October might bring the sharp crackle of Dussehra fireworks. November brings the soft glow of Diya (lamps) for Diwali. Then comes the wet splash of Holi . For two weeks in August, Mumbai grinds to a halt for Ganesh Chaturthi , where idols are immersed in the sea with drumbeats loud enough to trigger seismic monitors. Work deadlines bend to the rhythm of Pooja (prayer). The Great Dichotomy: The Modern Indian The most fascinating aspect of the Indian lifestyle today is the "Split Screen" existence.

In the West, life is often lived in private silence. In India, life is a public spectacle. You cannot hide your sadness, because the neighbor will notice your curtains are drawn and bring you Halwa . You cannot hide your joy, because the street will join your dance.