Just read Anand Giridharadas "Once Clear thoughts..." post published in today's NY Times. As always his words resonate with the heart and soul of a country - (surprisingly a democratic country) which has lodged itself forever in my heart and soul. "Why is more culture flowing in than out of India now" Giridharadas asks. My answer - to Anand and others of Indian parentage who have commented on his article - "Because you are too humble to realise that India has it all, has always had it all. And the world needs what it has, more than ever! The rest of us are yearning whether we know it or not, for what India has. The world's most magnificent, most opulent country at every level despite and because of her poverty, disease and, yes, her filth, India is brilliant, sparkling, radiant, grand. From her harsh but colourful northern deserts to the majestic Himalayas, her beautiful coastlines and lush tropical centre, her sacred rivers, from busy villages right to the midst of her teeming, vibrant cities - everything is grand scale. From villages to urban centres one sees 'filth' if that's where one's perception lies - just on the outer fringe of consciousness. Our eyes will see that if they are only observing, not feeling, not engaged, not truly conscious. It's the physical view. And India is so, so much more than that. She infuses every level of one's being - material, emotional, intellectual, spiritual! Most of all India's magnificence is held within her people, who wear their hearts and soul on the outside. They can't help it! No matter how hard they try to fit what they think is some standard 'international' or 'world-class' behaviour, they just are how they feel. Indian people embody all the opulences of her grand history and ancient Vedic culture, yet remain so humble as to think they have nothing to offer the world. I think democracy was always meant to have a soul, like the people it is supposed to serve. Like India. I so hope she doesn't lose that soul but perhaps one day share with us in the West the depth of an ancient civilisation we can only imagine, and her take on today's democracy. In return, western style democracy will not exploit her further, but will repay her by helping lift millions out of poor health, illiteracy and starvation."

Peru: Exploitation of people and resources...will it ever end?

All over the web and especially throughout social media I find sites and pages and followers and friends seeking to bring about a pure world, a conscious world, a world where there is no exploitation of any living beings or of nature itself. There is activity everywhere, there is belief and there is hope. It is inspiring. But the rough reality remains. We are all talking of change and a new, more compassionate world, but perhaps no-one is listening? Or we are all just talking among ourselves, oblivious and ignored. Because there is no true change in how the world works. No change of heart, anyway.

Looking at the situation in Peru this week it seems that global corporates and the world's wealthy nations have ignored the lessons many of us hoped would be by-products of the GFC. Wasn't it all about greed and exploitation of people and resources? So if it's all over for greed in developed nations, and destroying the environment at home is not good for the share price, then it looks like targeting third world nations and their indigenous populations is the new greed. So far the Peru story is not making mainstream news headlines.

If you search Google news - but you need to search - or you follow an environmental group on twitter, you may have caught up with the uprising of indigenous Peruvians and their supporters in the last ten days or so. They are protesting about the exploitation of the Amazon's resources by global corporations and investors. They are protesting because their own rights are being trodden to the ground. All cards are, as usual, in the hands of the first world players. If the Peruvian government tries to protect its people it will cross swords with the big powers who will seek for a ruling on unrestricted free trade (GW Bush!). Foreign investors could have the power to stop the Peruvian government legislating on behalf of its own people, as well as on behalf of its own resources. The latter is the norm in the 3rd world - think Timor Leste! In the meantime, blood is being shed and lives are being lost in clashes between Peruvians - government troops against indigenous groups, students and environmentalists. The usual.

Will there ever be another consciousness? What ever can we do?

This last week in India has felt like another lifetime. Since last post I've been embraced by the land of Lord Siva. Rishikesh, totally vegetarian this home of yoga nestles in the lap of the lower Himalayan foothills where the sacred, powerful Mother Ganges, jade and crystal clear still close to her source, meanders here, surges there, on her journey past the communities of Laxman Jhula north of town and on the East Bank Swarg Ashram (also called Rama Jhula). I'm absorbed by the spirit of this place, the vista of temples, yogis, ashrams, visiting pilgrims. Majestic suspension footbridges span the river carrying cows, women in saris, tourists, saddhus all travelling on foot, boys on bicycles, couples on scooters from the winding mountain road to the colourful, bustling village lanes of the two Jhulas. Rishikesh wears its spirit on the outside. Life is about yoga and meditation, ayurvedic health and massage, astrology, reiki, chanting, offerings, peaceful souls, smiling, greeting, namaste. Gentle, graceful energy radiates everywhere and from everyone. Perched on a partially submerged boulder on the banks of Mother Ganga as she flows serenely past me with the ancient, towering Himalayas behind me, I feel so incredibly blessed.

What a round-the-clock effort to get to the airport on Friday, clearing the desk, packing, it was 5am and the car was outside before I knew it. What a great idea to stop for six hours at Singapore airport - time to catch up on sleep in a comfortable hotel room before heading on to Delhi.

Every city has a smell that greets you even before you leave the plane and intensifies as you get closer. Perhaps the smell is just one part of a unique atmosphere of place. Whatever, smell is the sense that always hits me first. I haven't even started to sift and separate the assault of tastes, sights, sounds, smells, feelings that are Delhi, but if I smelled those smells at home - petrol, ghee, smoke, dust, earth, sewage - they'd offend me. If the sounds and the constant traffic jams and crowds were part of my daily life, I'm sure I'd find it overwhelming. But here in India I love it all and feel myself smiling inside as I reconnect, heart and soul, to India.

We made it from the airport into Delhi around 11.30pm. I always feel as though I've 'made it' in India when I arrive anywhere. Must be to do with the rally conditions you experience driving anywhere...navigating around tuk-tuks, scooters, buses, vans, horse-drawn trailers, cars, sadhus, bicycles with trailers and of course, cows. Constant beeping, blaring of horns. Just a few minutes away from the little downtown hotel, the familiar landmarks, looking forward to arriving the car came to a complete stop. Gridlock. The street, with stalls spilling onto the dusty road, was chock-a-block carnival - alive with light, music and colour. A wedding parade was in full Bollywood. White horse drawn carriage, bejewelled bride, all adorned with shining red and glittering gold ornaments, brass band, uniformed musicians straight from the British raj, hundreds upon hundreds of guests, well-wishers, followers, all pouring, jam-packed together, down our street. Cacophony! Car horns blaring, trumpets blasting, cymbals clashing, dogs barking, people singing and laughing. Sparkling crystal and ruby glass chandeliers held aloft by members of the dancing wedding party, strung one to the next with old electrical cables...surreal spotlights, randomly lit scenes. Pure India, at its brilliant best. For a weird but amusing few minutes I felt what it must be like to be a star and be 'mobbed'. We were surrounded. The hindquarter of a white horse just an inch from my window and at the driver's window squashed red, gold and white uniformed musicians. Bodies came tumbling across the bonnet and boot, pushing between the horse, the car, jostling the band. Past the windscreen hundreds of ecstatic, laughing, soulful eyes, faces pushed up to the glass, banging on the windows to the music, waving, happily.

Of course the parade moved on and we were face to face with a wall of traffic coming the other way. We edged forward, little by little, manouvering through tiny gaps, up and over kerbs, around through the back of a couple of stalls, past scooters, bikes, rickshaws, tuk-tuks and vans - all coming towards us and all, like us manouvering sideways, backwards, forwards.

Then just as suddenly as the parade had stopped us, the road cleared and we were outside the hotel. Delhi. I'm loving it.