From my earliest adventures in India back in 1955, I arrived with a sense of wide-eyed wonder—a continent bursting with endless colour, mystique, and raw human connection. Travelling by train was an odyssey: every station was a portal to a new world, every encounter rich with spontaneity and unpredictable charm. I still recall the lingering aroma of spices in crowded bazaars, the unspoken warmth of a kindly vendor offering a cup of chai, and the mesmerising chaos of a city that lived, breathed, and pulsed with life. India in those days was a land where mystery was tangible, and every journey promised discovery.
Fast forward to my recent three-month train journey across India while promoting my Racket Boy book, and I found that the magic had dimmed. The vibrant chaos I once cherished has now been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of domestic tourists. In every carriage, groups snapping selfies and families engaged in boisterous chatter replaced the unpredictable charm of my youth. One sun-drenched day on the track, I watched the same bustling markets and busy stations replay with an air of over-familiarity. It felt as though the India I knew had been diluted—its enigmatic spirit masked by a wave of mass tourism.
While glossy brochures and slick ads continue to tout India as a global wonderland, my journeys reveal a far different reality—a chaotic carnival reminiscent of a local village fair. Despite the country’s UNESCO treasures and unrivalled heritage, India’s tourism development index languishes at 39th, tripped up by abysmal health and hygiene standards, misleading star ratings, rampant push-and-shoving on dirty trains, and poor service that borders on cheating. Even as the government slashes its global tourism marketing budget by over 80 per cent in favour of doubling domestic spend—fuelling 2,509 million domestic stays versus a paltry 18.89 million international ones—the promised international allure remains elusive.
Reflecting on these experiences, it’s clear that the genuine, serendipitous moments that once defined my journeys have given way to a more commodified experience. For those of us who grew up on the raw, unedited beauty of this subcontinent, the shift is bittersweet—a reminder that even the most enchanted memories can fade when a place becomes too familiar. The India I once knew—a land of mystique and discovery—has transformed into a village fair masquerading as a world-class destination, where rules are bent, standards are low, and the chaos is as palpable as the heat on the pavement.
