Apocalypse Orange...

This is what I've christened a strange orange glow that appears shortly after sunset, which today was at 6.10 on the nose. The sun sets, the sky - or rather, the light - darkens briefly and then takes on a vivid, hyper-real orangeness for about ten minutes. It's like a film director has lit the street, beach, wherever, ready for a dusk shoot. It was the same in Bombay as it is here in Kerala.
I'm in Varkala, a small temple town with a gorgeous enclave perched on a green cliff overlooking the Arabian sea, which seems to attract both Western and Indian tourists. I've been invited to a Hindu wedding tomorrow. It's not often that happens so I'm going to put my best - only - dress on, wash the salt, sun cream, Deet and dirt from my hair, and generally try to scrub up. I've only been in India since Saturday but already I feel nicely sweaty, grimy, a bit sunburned (ouch!).
And a bit stiff. I had a yoga lesson this afternoon on the roof of a guest house next door, one-on-one it turned out, with a spectacularly cool cucumber called Ani. He marched me up to the roof in his normal clothes: smart slacks (that really is the only word for them. They are like old school Farrahs and every Indian guy wears them) and a smart shirt, and proceeded to do the most impressive yogic feats. I clapped when he did a headstand, and he clapped back when I, embarrassingly, managed a feeble standing pose. I think he was trying to be encouraging. And he made me giggle when he told me to close my eyes, and relax my arms, my abdomen, my tits. Actually, it was more like 'tist' - and he was saying chest.
It reminds me of lady on the phone yesterday, who said 'oh yes, it was a bit shady'. That in turn reminded me of an Indian guy I met in Rishikesh who said we shouldn't walk over that bridge as it looks a bit dicey... People here tend to speak this wonderful Colonial English, lest I should forget we ever Lorded over this fascinating country.