There are some traditions that have not gotten lost in time and are still respected. Every country and culture is different from one another, and India is a great example of this. People behave, eat, and even dress differently. They have their own traditions and customs, and as tourists, these need to be honored. And this is exactly what we’d like to bring forth in this article.
We at Bright Side have been mesmerized by the uniqueness of Indian culture, so we’d like to share with you a few useful tips to make the most out of your trip.
1. You must not touch books or instruments with your feet.
In India, children are taught from a young age that books are knowledge. They even have a Goddess of Learning, Saraswati. Therefore, touching books with one’s feet or even kicking a school bag full of notebooks or books is considered disrespectful.
Any instrument that is used to develop one’s knowledge is also considered very important and must not be touched by the feet. Even pens and pencils are important, according to Indian culture, and must be respected as such.
2. Don’t be afraid to explore Indian street food.
Exploring foreign cuisine is generally very important when visiting other countries, and sometimes the best food around is the kind made at that small corner vendor. And Indian food is no exception, as it’s one of the richest cuisines out there. It’s a must-try for sure. Just watch out for that extra-spicy food!
As with any street food experience, you must be careful. Seek fresh food, avoid milk products as they can sometimes be spoiled, avoid ice or water that was not heated well (definitely try to avoid tap water), and generally look forward to trying clean (and busy) vendors.
3. Don’t be too polite.
Saying “please” and “thank you” is normal and respectful for us, like at a restaurant or a shop. However, in India, when used too much, you can come across as rude or impolite. Who would’ve thought, right?
When it comes to friends and family, traditional ways of showing appreciation can sometimes create tension or express a level of formality that should not exist. Instead of saying “thank you,” you can try saying “I appreciate it.”
4. Only use your right hand when giving or taking anything.
Many cultures have actually adopted this practice. In many cultures, the right hand is considered pure and even lucky! In India, it is believed that the left hand is impure, as it is used for cleaning shoes, feet, and generally dirty work. So when it comes to food, drinks, and handing objects to other people, we must always use the right hand to show respect.
5. Do not point your finger.
Usually, we use our pointer finger to give directions at a restaurant or generally when referring to something in particular. But this is definitely not the case in India.
Pointing your finger at an object or place is considered rude and impolite. If you wish to give directions or point out something to someone, you must do so by using your whole palm or your thumb. This way, it’s more gentle and polite.
6. Expect to use cash only.
If you’re visiting a small town in India, you should expect to pay with cash most of the time. While in the bigger cities, malls, restaurants, and shops, credit or debit cards may be accepted, they are still rare, and the smaller cities make use of cash. So it would be smart to keep some cash with you, just in case.
7. Not everyone is going to speak English.
Of course, you might be lucky enough to be able to use English inside bigger cities, restaurants, hotels, or certain shops, however, this is not the case for smaller villages. Here, you should expect people to use their native language, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
Spending time among foreign people and hearing their native language might actually do you some good. You can pick up a new language, getting to know a new culture.
8. Learn about and use traditional greetings.
Respect is required everywhere you go in the world, and India is no exception. You can show your respect for the country and its people by learning about their culture and traditional greetings. One such greeting that is used in a general manner is “namaste.” You can put your palms together and bow to show respect while saying namaste, or, if you’d like to be more formal, you can use “namaskar.”
As English has become more globalized, “hello’’ is also used, especially among tourists and foreigners. Just know that “goodbye” is usually not used, as it implies you won’t be seeing each other anymore, or that you are asking for permission to leave.
9. Don’t use public displays of affection.
Public display of affection is generally looked down upon as it is quite a private thing. However, in India, you must not show affection in public. When you visit a new or foreign country, you might want to blend in with other people so as to not get unwanted stares. This is one of those things you must do.
Try and avoid holding hands or using overly affectionate gestures in public, as it is frowned upon. You can even spend time in jail!
10. Know that in small towns, you must wear decent clothes.
One of the most important things to keep in mind when coming to India is the way you present yourself. As a quite conservative country, it’s good to respect its culture and people, and you can start with your clothes. Even if it’s hot outside, try and cover yourself. This way, you can pay your respects to the country, and also make yourself look like a local.
If you’re visiting a particular attraction, it’s important to wrap a scarf around your head to show respect and politeness.
Have you ever traveled to India? Which aspect of Indian culture intrigues you the most?
My Daughter and Son-in-Law Died 2 Years Ago – Then, One Day, My Grandkids Shouted, ‘Grandma, Look, That’s Our Mom and Dad!’
Georgia was at the beach with her grandkids when they suddenly pointed toward a nearby café. Her heart skipped a beat as they shouted the words that would shatter her world. The couple in the café looked exactly like their parents who had died two years ago.
Grief changes you in ways you never expect. Some days, it’s a dull ache in your chest. Other days, it blindsides you like a sucker punch to the heart.
A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney
That summer morning in my kitchen, staring at an anonymous letter, I felt something entirely different. I think it was hope mixed with a little bit of terror.
My hands trembled as I read those five words again, “They’re not really gone.”
The crisp white paper felt like it was burning my fingers. I thought I’d been managing my grief, trying to create a stable life for my grandkids, Andy and Peter, after losing my daughter, Monica, and her husband, Stephen. But this note made me realize how wrong I was.
Two brothers playing with toys | Source: Pexels
They got into an accident two years ago. I still remember how Andy and Peter kept asking me where their parents were and when they’d return.
It took me so many months to make them understand their mom and dad would never return. It broke my heart as I told them they’d have to manage things on their own now, and that I’d be there for them whenever they needed their parents.
After all the hard work I’d put in, I received this anonymous letter that claimed Monica and Stephan were still alive.
An envelope | Source: Pexels
“They’re… not really gone?” I whispered to myself, sinking into my kitchen chair. “What kind of sick game is this?”
I had crumpled the paper and was about to throw it away when my phone buzzed.
It was my credit card company, alerting me to a charge on Monica’s old card. The one I’d kept active just to hold onto a piece of her.
“How is that even possible?” I whispered. “I’ve had this card for two years. How can someone use it when it’s been sitting in the drawer?”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I immediately called the bank’s customer support helpline.
“Hello, this is Billy speaking. How may I help you?” the customer service representative answered.
“Hi. I, uh, wanted to verify this recent transaction on my daughter’s card,” I said.
“Of course. May I have the first six and last four digits of the card number and your relationship to the account holder?” Billy asked.
I gave him the details, explaining, “I’m her mother. She… passed away two years ago, and I’ve been managing her remaining accounts.”
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
There was a pause on the line, and then Billy spoke carefully. “I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am. I don’t see a transaction on this card. The one you’re talking about has been made using a virtual card linked to the account.”
“A virtual card?” I asked, frowning. “But I never linked one to this account. How can a virtual card be active when I have the physical card here?”
“Virtual cards are separate from the physical card, so they can continue to function independently unless deactivated. Would you like me to cancel the virtual card for you?” Billy asked gently.
A customer care representative | Source: Pexels
“No, no,” I managed to speak. I didn’t want to cancel the card thinking Monica must’ve activated it when she was alive. “Please leave it active. Could you tell me when the virtual card was created?”
There was a pause as he checked. “It was activated a week before the date you mentioned your daughter passed.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “Thank you, Billy. That’ll be all for now.”
Then, I called my closest friend Ella. I told her about the strange letter and the transaction on Monica’s card.
An older woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
“That’s impossible,” Ella gasped. “Could it be a mistake?”
“It’s like someone wants me to believe Monica and Stephan are out there somewhere, just hiding. But why would they… why would anyone do that?”
The charge wasn’t large. It was just $23.50 at a local coffee shop. Part of me wanted to visit the shop and find out more about the transaction, but part of me was afraid I’d find out something I wasn’t supposed to know.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I thought I’d look into this matter on the weekend, but what happened on Saturday turned my world upside down.
Andy and Peter wanted to go to the beach on Saturday, so I took them there. Ella had agreed to meet us there to help me look after the kids.
The ocean breeze carried the salt spray as the children splashed in the shallow waves, their laughter echoing across the sand. It was the first time in ages I’d heard them so carefree.
A kid standing near a sand castle | Source: Pexels
Ella lounged on her beach towel beside me, both of us watching the kids play.
I was showing her the anonymous letter when I heard Andy shout.
“Grandma, look!” he grabbed Peter’s hand, pointing toward the beachfront café. “That’s our mom and dad!”
My heart stopped. There, barely thirty feet away, sat a woman with Monica’s dyed hair and graceful posture, leaning toward a man who could easily ihave been Stephan’s twin.
They were sharing a plate of fresh fruit.
A plate of sliced fruits | Source: Pexels
“Please, watch them for a bit,” I said to Ella, urgency making my voice crack. She agreed without question, though concern filled her eyes.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I told the boys. “You can sunbathe here. Stay close to Ella, okay?”
The kids nodded and I turned toward the couple in the café.
My heart skipped a beat as they stood and walked down a narrow path lined with sea oats and wild roses. My feet moved of their own accord, following at a distance.
An older woman’s shoes | Source: Midjourney
They walked close together, whispering, and occasionally laughing. The woman tucked her hair behind her ear exactly like Monica always had. The man had Stephan’s slight limp from his college football injury.
Then I heard them talk.
“It’s risky, but we had no choice, Emily,” the man said.
Emily? I thought. Why is he calling her Emily?
They turned down a shell-lined path toward a cottage covered in flowering grapevines.
“I know,” the woman sighed. “But I miss them… especially the boys.”
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Pexels
I gripped the wooden fence surrounding the cottage, my knuckles white.
It is you, I thought. But why… why would you do this?
Once they went inside the cottage, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher listened patiently as I explained the impossible situation.
I stayed by the fence and listened for more proof. I couldn’t believe what was happening.
Finally, gathering every ounce of courage I possessed, I approached the cottage door and rang the doorbell.
For a moment, there was silence, then footsteps approached.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
The door swung open, and there stood my daughter. Her face drained of color as she recognized me.
“Mom?” she gasped. “What… how did you find us?”
Before I could respond, Stephan appeared behind her. Then, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.
“How could you?” My voice trembled with rage and grief. “How could you leave your own children behind? Do you have any idea what you put us through?”
The police cars pulled up, and two officers approached quickly but cautiously.
A police car | Source: Pexels
“I think we’ll need to ask some questions,” one said, looking between us. “This… this is not something we see every day.”
Monica and Stephan, who had changed their names to Emily and Anthony, spilled out their story in bits and pieces.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Monica said, her voice wavering. “We were… we were drowning, you know? The debts, the loan sharks… they kept coming, demanding more. We tried everything, but it just got worse.”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
Stephan sighed. “They didn’t just want money. They were threatening us, and we didn’t want to drag the kids into the mess we created.”
Monica continued, tears trickling down her cheeks. “We thought if we left, we’d be giving the kids a better, more stable life. We thought they’d be better off without us. Leaving them behind was the hardest thing we ever did.”
They confessed that they had staged the accident to look like they’d fallen off a cliff into the river, hoping the police would soon stop searching and they’d be presumed dead.
A man standing in a house | Source: Midjourney
They explained how they moved to another town to start fresh and had even changed their names.
“But I couldn’t stop thinking about my babies,” Monica admitted. “I needed to see them, so we rented this cottage for a week, just to be close to them.”
My heart broke as I listened to their story, but anger simmered beneath my sympathy. I couldn’t help but believe there had to be a better way to deal with the loan sharks.
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
Once they confessed everything, I texted Ella our location, and soon her car pulled up with Andy and Peter. The children burst out, and their faces lit up with joy as they recognized their parents.
“Mom! Dad!” they shouted, running toward their parents. “You’re here! We knew you’d come back!”
Monica looked at them and tears welled up in her eyes. She was meeting her kids after two years.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my sweet boys… I missed you so much. I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging them.
I watched the scene unfold, whispering to myself, “But at what cost, Monica? What have you done?”
The police allowed the brief reunion before pulling Monica and Stephen aside. The senior officer turned to me with sympathy in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but they could face some serious charges here. They’ve broken a lot of laws.”
“And my grandchildren?” I asked, watching Andy and Peter’s confused faces as their parents were separated from them again. “How do I explain any of this to them? They’re just kids.”
A worried older woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s something you’ll have to decide,” he said gently. “But the truth is bound to come out eventually.”
Later that night, after tucking the children into bed, I sat alone in my living room. The anonymous letter lay on the coffee table before me, its message now holding a different kind of weight.
I picked it up, reading those five words one more time, “They’re not really gone.”
I still didn’t know who had sent it, but they were right.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
Monica and Stephan weren’t gone. They’d chosen to leave. And somehow, that felt worse than knowing they weren’t alive.
“I don’t know if I can protect the kids from the sadness,” I whispered to the quiet room, “but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”
Now, I sometimes feel I shouldn’t have called the cops. Part of me thinks I could’ve let my daughter live the life she wanted, but part of me wanted her to realize what she did was wrong.
Do you think I did the right thing by calling the cops? What would you have done if you were in my place?
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: While Claire is dropping her kids off at summer camp, she gets a devastating phone call. Her 67-year-old mother, an Alzheimer’s patient, is missing. After three days of looking for Edith, police officers bring her home, and only then does the old woman reveal a horrible truth about Claire’s husband.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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