One of the world’s great jewels, India is only exotic if you haven’t been here. It is an enormously diverse country, rich with histories and cultures that interweave and break and reconnect in an endless loop of variations. There are stunning natural areas, and most of the larger cities have their share of ancient temples that are wonderful day excursions, and a lively urban scene, demonstrating the sophistication and complexity of the country. There are thousands of good reasons to visit, and even more reasons to return. It is like a reflecting pond that simply gets more complex the more you look into it. India is a fantastic place, and there are many attractions here for visitors of all ages.
There are plenty of magnificent accommodations in India, 5-star hotels being the finest the industry has to offer. When old-world hospitality and the height of new-world convenience and design are the only way to travel, this is a good option for you. You’ll still find yourself enjoying the many variations of the country, and probably fall in love with its baffling complexity. There are many who try to articulate the complexity, and many who succeed in various ways. Indian writers are often more successful at articulating an Indian consciousness rather than a suitable description of the country.
That consciousness might be less elusive than a place is rather telling about the place. The country affects the inner lives very deeply, there is no question about that, but there is perhaps no other place who affects its diaspora in exactly the same way. It is interesting to look at the writings of V.S. Naipaul in this light. The Nobel prize winner was born in Trinidad to indentured servant parents who were from India, and he traveled all over this country as well as the African continent. His writing does reflect this country as much as Trinidad, and sometimes the heart of his work is an attempt to shrug off nationhood altogether, as a way of spiting the pervasive effects of indoctrination.