Reality is Harsh

Leaving Kerala, especially, Varkala, all my senses are assaulted by the harshness that is India. In Kanyakumari I feel like I'm seeing a microcosm of the subcontintent. This town is at the southernmost point of India where the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea meet in the Indian Ocean. Hindus find this of special significance, especially as you can see the sun rise and set over the ocean. There's an important temple here (physically nondescript) dedicated to the Kanya (Virgin) Devi who is believed to have conquered demons and made the land safe again. So Hindus from everywhere, especially the Hindi speaking states come here on pilgrimages to pay homage to this goddess. Some of these devotees are wealthy, staying at top end hotels and others are dirt poor, staying at these godawful places that look utterly unlivable.
Walking through the bazaar area that leads to the temple you come face to face with human existence at its most challenging: beggars sitting cross legged with their palms open, lines of Hindi women (you can tell from the way their saris are draped over their heads) heading to the temple, cripples (probably poio victims) crawling, or dragging themselves on their bottoms, all manner of vendors ready to con you into buying maps and postcards many times the price at stores. Then there are the retailers urging you into the stores and the wealthier people talking on their mobiles or taking photos with their fancy cameras. But the haunting faces of the dirt poor, it's so damn heartrenching. I am so disturbed. I can't stop thinking about it even when I leave the area and have a pineapple juice at a quiet, clean hotel garden restaurant. No, I feel guilty. I can't face the reality of the harsh world and I use my wealth to escape from it.
What can I do? What can I do? I know this is going to change me forever. India isn't discreet. Oh no. It's there, all there.
I chose to go to Kanyakumari because if you look at its location on the map, right at the bottommost point of India, you are certain it's going to be a very scenic place. Wrong! Uncontrolled building makes it impossible to find a scenic walk. There is a beach area (small and crowded) and a viewpoint to see the sunset The place is so built up that in order to see the sunset everyone goes there! At sunrise everyone goes up to the rooftops of their hotels.
Swami Vivekananda, whose Guru was Sri Ramakrishna (both have huge followings among Indians in South Africa), spent his last days here. There's a temple in his honor on a tiny island just off the coast. There's also an enormous statue of a famous Tamil poet on the island.

So I saunter out to a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet and have a masala dosa. A German couple joins me at my table. They are bubbly and get me out of my depressed state.