That February, Delhi seemed like a paradise. Olivia and I filled the garden on our roof terraces with palms and lilies and hollyhocks and we wove bougainvillae through the trellising. The plants which seemed to have die during the winter's cold -the snapdragon, the hibiscus and the frangipani -miraculously change: the wood-smoke and the sweet smell of the dung fires gave way to the heady scent of Indian champa and the first bittersweet whiffs of China orange blossom.
That February, Delhi seemed like a paradise. Olivia and I filled the garden on our roof terraces with palms and lilies and hollyhocks and we wove bougainvillae through the trellising. The plants which seemed to have die during the winter's cold -the snapdragon, the hibiscus and the frangipani -miraculously change: the wood-smoke and the sweet smell of the dung fires gave way to the heady scent of Indian champa and the first bittersweet whiffs of China orange blossom.