I love India. And I hate it. Love the colour, versatility, abundance of history and nature. Respect the ability to take a beating after beating, suffer all adversities known to humanity and still have the clear-eyed hunger to get ahead. Hate the dishonesty, corruption, corruption and corruption of the netas and babus; and the unthinking cruelty demonstrated by masses.

Then there is the devotion that seems deeper than anywhere I've seen before. Poverty that fails to drown those under it. The life in the lines on the faces passing on the dirt roads leading to other dirt roads.

Man at the temple yard, rural Bengaluru

Slumkids in northern Bengaluru

Fisherman sorting the nets in Puducherry, Bay of Bengal

Gentlemen enjoying idle time at Sarjapur Circle

Cauliflower man at Madivala market, Bengaluru

The colours of India are mind-blowing in their variety and splendour.  The sareed women, bindis, freshly painted temple ornaments, market places with their vendor stands. Hand-decorated lorries! Twilight hues, vegetation in the countryside, skies so blue they make you dizzy.

There's much more to love than to dislike. But things you love make you fall silent in wonder. Things you hate make you stand up and shout. So there's going to be some noice, obviously...