Smells like India.

I am in Delhi...having spent a long night on an eternal flight with a very irritating baby that cried for the 4350 miles between London and Delhi. I have reached- in one piece!!
Am spending the days sitting in the mild sunshine...on the roof, shelling peas and waiting for the cauliflower and turnip, the big red chillies filled with spices pickle and the black carrot in water (kanji) pickle to cook in the sun so I can have some before its time to leave.
Once again I am surrounded by the smells of India. The smells of dust and pollution, of big fat stumps of agarbatti in the shops first thing in the morning. Of fresh flowers being sold on the streets for goddesses and Goddesses. The sound of the kabadiwala as he asks for your newspapers, the far away honking of a truck on the highway. The smell of food on the street, and freshly ironed clothes. The crowing of the birds in the morning. People talking loudly, selling vegetables on push carts, selling hot aloo tikkis in the evening, attracting people by knocking on the pan with the spoon.
Its familiar in an odd way.
Its almost like reacquanting myself with memories which are getting buried deeper and deeper in my mind as I stay away from India for longer periods of time...