India is possibly the most remarkable country I have ever visited. What is it about it that gets under your skin? It might be the sea of humanity that constantly parades before you, those millions of personal journeys unfolding right before your eyes. Or perhaps the many stallholders beside the road, diligently sweeping a layer of dust from around their patch, the farmers transplanting rice for hours on end, acre upon acre, the gathering under the tree that suffices for the village centre, or the desperate men who illegally mine coal underground and then push their heavily laden bicycles 120 km up hill and down dale only to do it again the next day. Maybe it’s the sea of faces on a bus, or on top of a bus, or those peering out at a world passing by from every window and door on the train. It is this seething mass of humanity that defines India like no other country I have been to, even much more so than China.