I got to Chennai Egmore train station in good time. The train didn’t. We waited and waited for the platform indicator to appear. A regular user said it’s normally platform four or five. We waited. It was 20 minutes late. Finally, the platform came up. Platform 9. The train was nowhere to be seen.

We all went on the up escalator and across the bridge spanning the tracks. There was another ten minutes wait for the train.
When you buy a ticket, you’re given a train carriage ID and seat number. Sometimes, a screen tells you where your carriage is going to be. Other times there are small electronic indicators along the track, each having the carriage ID. On this occasion, neither was provided. I stood about mid-way along the platform. When the train came, it was very long. My carriage was at one end. I just about got to it to board my carriage.
The carriage had berth-style seating to allow people to sleep. The person opposite me said hello. His wife was sleeping on the upper berth.
Having not slept that much last night, I was looking forward to getting some sleep on the train and possibly reading. The train journey was scheduled to be four hours.
Before I could nod off, we were straight into a conversation. The person had his own business, employing about 120 people. The company was established many years ago. He sold various agricultural products. His best seller is a greenhouse. The company has clients all over the world. More recently, he has diversified into selling green cooling solutions for data centres.
He said his company likes to make quality products. However, it faces competition from lower cost products that are of inferior quality. He told me a story of a client in Germany comparing his company’s greenhouse with a cheaper Chinese equivalent. He advised the German to buy both greenhouses. Then, put them in the same environment. See which one lasted longer. He said he would guarantee his one would last at least three years. Moreover, he was willing to guarantee it for ten years. After ten months, the German ordered ten more greenhouses. After another year, he ordered a hundred. However, the business owner said for every one buyer that’s concerned with quality, there are ninety-nine who aren’t. Therefore, his company offers products in all price bands.
Being quite sleep deprived, I had a nap when I got to the hotel.
I didn’t know too much about Puducherry. Helene had been here a month ago. She’d shared some recommendations.
I went to the French district by the beach, near White Town. This is where most tourists congregate. The French colonial legacy has left its stamp on the architecture, restaurants, food, and street names of the area.
















At one point a friendly Indian squirrel kept running around and returning to the same spot. Usually, they flee when they see you.




There is a famous ashram in the district called Sri Aurobindo Ashram. He is closely linked with someone called The Mother. She set up Auroville, a small town organised around various ecological and spiritual principles.
On the way to the ashram, I went to the ashram’s paper shop. They sold hand-made paper. I got to the shop just before it closed. I bought a card and notebook.

When I got to the ashram, there was a huge queue. I asked one of the people managing the queue why were people queueing. He said it was to visit The Mother’s room, which was open today because it was her birthday! He said if I wanted to visit the ashram only, I could bypass the queue. I asked him what was special about the room, adding, “It’s just a room, yes?” If looks could kill! He was not happy with my question and didn’t answer it. I was not trying to denigrate The Mother.
India is full of sects and cults. Earlier in the week, I met someone who said that the Hinduism of today has little resemblance to the Hinduism of a thousand years ago. This could be said of Christianity too and probably all religions practised today. A religion lasts only if it can adapt to the times.
I took my shoes off to go into the ashram. There were quite a few people meditating. I went around and ended up in the bookshop. There was a book on the philosophy of The Mother taken from conversations over the years. It was interesting and I was tempted to buy it, but it was too big to add to my luggage.
I found a veggie restaurant. One of the waiters said that some items weren’t available until dinner starts at 7pm. But there were lots of other items available, which looked like the sort of things you’d have for dinner!
There was the usual exchange about the ingredients but eventually I found a dish that was vegan. It happened to be their speciality since the restaurant was opened over 70 years ago. I noticed the fried bread (“puri”) were quite small. “Should I order four?”, I asked. The waiter said it would be fine. When the order came, there were two extra large puris!

2 thoughts on “French Puducherry”