Top on the list is the unyielding heat wave. Blasts of hot air travel up from the concrete and tar, hitting you hard in the face as you zip through on a bicycle/motorbike, and present you the notion of living inside a furnace. I have been mad enough to be driving around for a couple of hundred kilometers in my टोपी helmet, which not only had the reality charring me across the face, but also drew both ridicule and pity from the roadside observer. These days conversations start out with exaggerated mentions of the steam bath that Delhi offers. People are melting.
Head injuries - the major ones: the low ceiling on Deepak's stairway, the window latch in the bus en-route Sangla, the support pole in the bus on the way back, the window latch in that same bus after switching seats, and the metal frame edge of the toy train from Simla-Kalka. I'd be dead had the window latches been sharp - they have been the most lethal thing about trips. My head is a dense sphere of these swellings, the pain persists.
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