evidence: At the next town he accidentally drove into the back of a truck, smashing the entire front windscreen. The men all filtered off the bus to argue and discuss a solution. Heads were nodded, glass was cleared from the floor of the bus and anything remaining of the windscreen, and then we began again, flying through India now missing two significant parts of the bus. Only the frame was left, and that too was rattling dangerously. And yet I arrived at my next destination, Maheshwar, perfectly on time. I later learned a term in Hindi for this madness: jugaad. It means a ‘quick fix’, to make something work even though it technically shouldn’t, to improvise and adapt. Understandably, jugaad is a very fond way to describe India. [...] A porotta torn apart by rough hands, flesh grazed on sand and bleeding, [...] This is what it must feel like to actually travel with someone else, I thought to myself with a small laugh, noting how unusual it felt to me.