Livingin Delhi like smokinga packa day. The car lights catch motes of dust that make me want to wear a surgical mask. But wowowowowowow. Old Dehli. Spice market.rickshaw tour. bags and bags of chilis in one corner ofthe market. Everyone hacking and coughing at the chili in the air. We went to the Red Fort and then to old Dehli ona rickshaw tour. Baskets upon baskets of spices and rows of silk saris and so much color and smell and poverty and beautyu. Went to the Jain temple. Part of it, they said was 1000 years old. I cannot begin to describe the cut glass mosaics, the gold detail, the cool marble floors, the sandalwood the monk annoints you with. I know, so touristy to get thrilled when a monk annoints you with sandalwood, but the three of us alone in this old, cool marble space of breathtaking craftmanship. We literally gasped. Trying to decide whether Kashmir is worth the risk for work. Tomorrow we discuss it with the group leader who is keen on it. Me? I am not keen on being a house prisoner over fears of kidnappings. At the restaurant for lunch, there was a man who overheard us talking about kashmir. He spoke to us, but on the way to the washroom, the waiter took one of us aside and said: be careful. He is a dangerous man. Note to self: do not talk politics in public. Gujarat elections tomorrow. congress and bjp are in a tight race. Stomach ok. Sleep is off. Feel hungover and dizzy. But gettign better. They have teeka tikha pizza at Pizza hut. Not that I ate there. Just so you should know. My taxi smelled like pee. There was a monkey in the market, but it was not marauding.