Seduced by the charms of India

THE first time I arrived in India I thought I was going to die. The sun, a blood red orb, was setting behind a post-Armageddon skyline. Fires glowed in the gathering dusk while the pungent smell of the city assaulted the senses.

As my driver hurtled into town he dodged sari-clad women sitting side-saddle on the back of mopeds, sacred cows wandered aimlessly across the road, and all manner of farmyard life pecked and scrapped at the roadside.

Auto-rickshaws buzzed and weaved haphazardly through seemingly impossible gaps in the traffic as a bus dripping with humanity bore down us. I sunk swiftly behind the seat of the driver fearing the end was nigh.

Two years later, I have returned.

Neatly assembled in a room at the Taj Palace Intercontinental were a group of initiates to the India ''experience''.

It was good to note the humour with which their guide gently introduced the delicate subject of ''Delhibelly'' and the possibility of delay while on tour - along with the idiosyncrasies of airline service, and the strange obsession that security has with batteries accompanying passengers into cabins. (Bombay airport has introduced a restaurant service for delayed passengers!) I am sure many have come across old India ''hands'' who corner you at a party and wax lyrical about the people, the palaces, the food and ''oh'' those Indian nights. You won't be able to change India, but there is a strong possibility this seductive place will affect anyone who takes time to appreciate all it has to offer.