My India ...

We were on the road for a little over 3 hours when Soddama, our driver, took an exit to go to Fatehpur Sikri. Fatehpur is the remains of a some king's compounds. Some king a while back decided to move the capital to no-where-30-miles-outside-Agra. Now, this no-where had no easy access to water. Thus, Fatehpur remained the capital for no more than 10 years.

Soddama had lost our trust 20 minutes into the trip when he got lost in Delhi, and almost got into 2-3 accidents, while still in Delhi. It's scary, albeit normal in India.

The detour from the highway to Sikri took us through small villages and towns. Outside the towns are fields of farming -- not really sure what was farmed there as it still seemed a desert to me.

Sodamma was weaving around the tiny streets trying to avoid all kind of potholes, and the ride was getting more uncomfortable and we were getting more anxious.

"Sodamma, can you slow down," we asked anxiously.
mumbles are all we heard back from Sodamma.
"these water buffaloes everywhere, ha ha ha," he then laughing on his own words. We raised our eyebrows.

Since we got out the highway, water buffaloes were everywhere. Just trolling the streets and having a blast. In side the villages or outside them, water buffaloes were just wandering around. All the villages and towns had a remarkable, distinguished scene: the houses' doors were open, people sleeping everywhere there's a shade and an open air, and, of course, water buffaloes having pool parties.

"Small village ... buffaloes ... poor people .. this is my India," Sodamma said, and followed it with a laugh.

We laughed wondering if he is aware of the depth and dimensions of his statement.