Cow is like mother. Inviolable.

Cows walk in wherever they like. If one wants to lie in the middle of the shop, nobody cares. As long as she's not in the way of the costumers.

Cows should have good appearance.

People decorate them with flowers.

Sometimes though, they are getting in the way. Giving cow a slap is acceptable. There's always hope that might change her plans.

Cows eat garbage on regular basis. Most of the times they are getting away with this. Once we have witnessed a scene where unsophisticated menu made one of the cows really sick.

She was Lying in the middle of the street and trembling. Meanwhile, a group of passers-by, tried to give her some relief by talking to her and padding.

After a little fetching up, everything got back to normal.

Hindu people love their cows. They have become a part of natural landscape.

The style promoted in high budget Bollywood productions isn't much different from what we like in Europe. However, lower class preferences are different. Simplicity isn't quite the thing here.

The pictures below show how to dress children to make them more unique among their peers.

When evening comes, we slowly bid Delhi farewell.

We tried to imagine how the whole "getting on the train" process will look like. What we saw was beyond our imagination.

We were lucky to find four square feet of space on the platform (which I consider a success). All we have to do is to wait.

- I'd like to say, the whole rat thing in India isn't just a fairytale. They fly all around.

Train, just like a gigantic tank, slowly rolls onto the platform. Excited passengers are getting ready for attack!

The train stops. I feel turbulence coming.

When the train, huge as a tank, rolled onto the platform, hell broke out...

People who made it to the corridor, tried to grab pieces of luggage handed to them over the heads of those, who swirled around in the inert crowd struggling for a good position by the door.

After a while, squeezed into very narrow corridor, we slowly move towards our car.

Suddenly I feel someone's hand in my back pocket. I try to grab it but it slips away. There's no time for making a scene, so I let it go.

That was the only time someone tried to steal from us. The thief took papers in my pocket for banknotes.

The common opiniona about frequent theft in India is widely exagerrated. As long as you have your head screwed on right and you know the basic rules of safe travel, nothing bad should happen.

We have this opportunity to travel with siblings from Saudi Arabia. The brother is very kind, he keeps treating us with various tidbits. When we buy something, he also watches, if our change is given back correctly. Finally, he invites us to his home.

The sister doesn't speak english, but her skills with using her own language are astonishing.

We meet Aneta - Polish voluntary who works with kids in Kolkata. She shares her experience with us and gives us lots of useful advices.

Luckily, no one except for a couple of cockroaches wants to take our seats.

We lie down on incredibly dirty berths. Meanwhile our Arabian friend seems to control the hustle with five porters who try to leave her luggage anywhere and leave.

Later on, when two clippies ask her about big cartboard box (picture above, on the left) obviously having problem with it, she out-talks them, so when they finally give up and want to go, she doesn't let them, talking even more.

Meanwhile the train service (!) offers us veggie burgers and popular tea with milk (- chayyeeeeeeee!!!), so sweet it makes throat sore.

All the waste that hasn't been chucked out the window, lands on the floor. Passengers walk over it barefoot. No wonder why the berths are so dirty.

When I realized, they also go visit toilets barefoot... I couldn't believe it.

Rural landscape behind the windows... we are arriving to Varanasi.

Dried cow dung mixed with hay makes great fuel.

Huge crowd on Varanasi railway station makes us think of difficulties with departure already.

After a short argument with riksha drivers we find agreement about the fee and go to our hotel.

The owner puts down our data in a big book of visitors. It is hard to get oneself lost here.

We give out our names, surnames, polish address, passport numbers. We tell him where we came from and where are we heading later.

When we clear up teh issues about our room (like no power in powerpoints), we take a long awaited shower and after, go out to the city.

To be continued...