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?
I Saw My Neighbor Faint While Digging in Her Yard — I Gasped as I Looked into the Hole She Dug
When my 67-year-old neighbor, Mrs. Cartwright, collapsed while frantically digging in her yard, I rushed to help. I wasn’t prepared to uncover a buried wooden box that changed everything.
The sun bathed my quiet street in golden light as I folded laundry by the window. Across the way, Mrs. Cartwright, my elderly neighbor, was in her yard.
A woman folding laundry | Source: Freepik
She was a petite woman, always wearing neat cardigans and a kind smile. Even at sixty-seven, she had a certain energy, though I knew her health was touchy.
Today, she wasn’t her usual composed self. She was digging. Hard. Her frail arms jabbed a spade into the dirt, sweat staining her blouse. It didn’t look right.
I opened my window and called, “Mrs. Cartwright! Are you okay?”
A concerned woman looking out of the window | Source: Freepik
She didn’t look up, just kept at it like she didn’t hear me.
“Do you need help?” I tried again, louder.
Still no answer.
I watched her, uneasy. Maybe she was fine? I started to pull the window shut when she suddenly stopped, dropped the spade, and threw up her hands.
An elderly woman and a newly dug hole | Source: Midjourney
“Finally!” she cried out. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, she crumpled to the ground.
“Mrs. Cartwright!” My voice cracked. I bolted out the door, sprinting to her yard.
Her thin body lay sprawled by the hole, one hand resting on the edge. I shook her shoulder gently.
She didn’t move.
An unconscious woman lying on the grass | Source: Midjourney
My heart pounded as I checked her pulse. It was faint but there. Thank God. I leaned in closer, listening for her breath. Slow and shallow, but steady. Relief washed over me.
“Okay, hang on,” I murmured, unsure if she could hear.
While adjusting her head for better airflow, something caught my eye. In the hole she’d been digging, something wooden peeked through the dirt. A box?
A small wooden box | Source: Pexels
I hesitated. Helping her was the priority. But the box glinted faintly, pulling my focus like a magnet.
“What were you looking for?” I whispered, glancing between her and the hole. My curiosity got the better of me. I reached into the dirt and tugged at the box. It came loose with surprising ease.
The wood was weathered but intact, and the lid creaked as I lifted it. Inside were bundles of letters tied with faded twine. Next to them lay yellowed photographs and a sealed envelope.
A wooden box with letters | Source: Midjourney
“What…?” My voice trailed off as I pulled out one of the photographs. It showed a young Mrs. Cartwright, smiling beside a man in uniform. Her husband?
I stared, stunned. The letters looked so old, yet they were preserved remarkably well. What kind of story was hidden here?
As I pieced through the contents, a faint groan startled me.
A woman looking through the contents of the box | Source: Midjourney
“Mrs. Cartwright?” I asked, dropping the photograph. Her eyelids fluttered.
“Mm… where…?” Her voice was raspy.
“You collapsed,” I said softly, kneeling closer. “Just stay still. I’ll call for help.”
“No!” Her hand shot up, gripping my arm with surprising strength. “The box. Is it—” She coughed, struggling to sit up.
An unconscious woman in her backyard | Source: Midjourney
“It’s here,” I said, pointing. “But you need to rest. Please.”
She ignored me, eyes wide as she reached for the box. “Let me see.”
Reluctantly, I passed it to her. She cradled it like something precious, her frail fingers brushing over the wood.
“Sixty years,” she whispered, tears slipping down her wrinkled cheeks.
An elderly woman holding a wooden box | Source: Midjourney
“Sixty years?” I asked, confused.
“My husband,” she began, her voice trembling. “He buried this before he went to war. Said it was… a way to keep his dreams safe. He told me to find it… if he didn’t come back.”
I blinked, unable to speak.
“He didn’t come back,” she continued. “And I looked, oh, how I looked. But I couldn’t find it. I thought it was gone forever.”
A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
Her voice cracked. I stayed quiet, letting her speak.
“But I started dreaming about him again,” she said, her gaze far away. “He told me—’Under the tree, my dove.’ That’s what he called me.” She laughed softly, though tears kept falling. “I didn’t believe it at first. Just a dream, I thought. But something… something told me to dig.”
“And you found it,” I said gently.
Two women talking with letters in their hands | Source: Midjourney
“Because of you,” she replied, meeting my eyes. “I couldn’t have done it alone.”
I didn’t know what to say. There was so much emotion, so much weight in her words.
“What’s in the letters?” I finally asked.
“Everything,” she whispered, her hands trembling. “Everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.”
An elderly woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
She reached for the envelope, her fingers brushing over its seal.
“Help me open it,” she said, looking at me with eyes full of unspoken gratitude.
She pulled out a letter, carefully unfolding the fragile paper. The sunlight streaming through the trees illuminated the delicate handwriting.
“Can I read it?” I asked gently.
A woman holding a letter | Source: Pexels
She nodded, handing it to me.
I cleared my throat and began:
“Dear Family,
If you are reading this, it means my dove has found what I left behind. First, know that I loved you all, even those I never had the chance to meet. This world moves fast, and we forget what matters most. But love—love always stays. Take care of one another. Forgive, even when it’s hard. And don’t let time or distance make you strangers.
A man writing a letter | Source: Pexels
Inside this envelope, I’ve left a locket. Ruthie knows its meaning. Pass it down as a reminder: no matter what life brings, hold on to each other. Love is what lasts.
With all my heart,
Your father and, I hope, grandfather”
A handwritten letter and flowers | Source: Pexels
I lowered the letter and looked at Mrs. Cartwright. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached for the envelope.
Her fingers found a small, intricate locket inside. She opened it, revealing a miniature photo of herself and her husband, smiling as if frozen in a perfect moment. The locket seemed to glow in the sunlight.
A heart-shaped locket | Source: Pexels
“He always said this would outlast us both,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “And now, here it is.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
She turned the locket over in her hands, her face thoughtful. “You should have this.”
My head jerked up. “What? No, Mrs. Cartwright, that’s… this is for your family.”
Two women talking in the garden | Source: Freepik
“You’re part of this story now,” she insisted, her voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “Robert believed in timing. He believed things came to people when they were meant to. I think he’d want you to have it.”
I hesitated, but the sincerity in her eyes was undeniable. Slowly, I reached out and took the locket, its warmth almost surprising in my palm. “I’ll take care of it,” I promised.
Holding a heart-shaped locket | Source: Pexels
She smiled softly. “I know you will.”
In the days that followed, Mrs. Cartwright and I spent hours sorting through the letters. Each one painted a vivid picture of her husband’s love, courage, and hope during the war.
“He wrote about everything,” she told me one evening. “How he missed me, how he dreamed of coming home. But most of all, he wanted our family to stay close, no matter what.”
Two women drinking tea | Source: Freepik
I could see the weight of those words on her face. “Have you thought about sharing these with your family?” I asked.
Her expression faltered. “We haven’t spoken much in years,” she admitted. “After Robert passed, we all drifted apart. There were arguments… regrets.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s too late,” I said gently. “This could be a way to bring them together again.”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Pexels
She didn’t respond right away, but the idea seemed to take root.
Two weeks later, Mrs. Cartwright invited her family to a gathering. With her health, she needed help organizing it, and I was more than happy to pitch in.
On the day of the reunion, her living room was transformed into a warm, welcoming space. The letters were arranged on a table, along with the photographs and the locket.
An elderly woman welcoming her family | Source: Pexels
As her children and grandchildren arrived, there were hesitant smiles and awkward greetings. But once everyone settled in, Mrs. Cartwright stood, her frail frame somehow filled with strength.
“These letters,” she began, her voice trembling but clear, “are from your grandfather. He wrote them during the war and buried them for us to find. They’re his way of reminding us what’s most important.”
An elderly woman laughing at a family gathering | Source: Pexels
Her oldest son picked up a letter and began to read. As his voice filled the room, emotions ran high. Some cried softly; others smiled through tears.
“I remember this story,” one granddaughter said, holding up a photograph. “Grandma told me about this day!”
Mrs. Cartwright beamed, watching as her family connected over the memories. The locket made its way around the room, each person marveling at the tiny photo inside.
A happy woman with her friends | Source: Freepik
“Grandpa wanted us to pass this down,” Mrs. Cartwright said as her youngest great-grandchild held the locket. “To remind us to stay close, no matter what.”
As the evening ended, the once-distant family members lingered, talking and laughing like old friends. Mrs. Cartwright’s eyes glistened with joy as she squeezed my hand.
“You did this,” she said softly.
An elderly woman talking to a young woman | Source: Freepik
“No,” I replied. “Robert did. And you.”
She smiled, but I could see how much the moment meant to her.
That night, as I walked home, I held the locket in my hand. Its weight felt different now, not heavy but significant—a symbol of love and the bond that had been rekindled.
A woman walking home at night | Source: Pexels
What started as an ordinary day had become something extraordinary. I’d learned that even the smallest gestures like helping a neighbor or listening to a story could change lives.
And as I glanced back at Mrs. Cartwright’s house, glowing with light and laughter, I knew that her husband’s message would endure, carried forward by those who loved him.
A happy family | Source: Pexels
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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