We left Bundi by train for Chittorgarh and then took a car from there to Udaipur on a brand new, well-paved, four lane highway - something of a rarity in India. We were cruising along about 100 km/hr when we saw black smoke ahead in the distance.
"What's that?" I asked our driver. "Probably there is being an accident." he replied.
He was right. A local villager had been killed when his motorbike was hit by a truck. His body was still on the road, covered over but with flies already at work. His mangled bike was nearby. There was a burning tire on both sides of the road to stop traffic which was already backed up for miles. A large crowd of men had gathered at the intersection, some of them angry.
"Why is traffic stopped?" I asked.
"They are waiting for someone from the government to come and give the victim's family money."
"How long do you think that'll take?" "Probably hours" he said. "Now you are seeing the real India," he added.
All too real, I thought.
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