I run past some farm workers tending to lentil crops. Smiling and hospitable, a little curious about these strangers making their way towards the outskirts of Agra, they pause to greet us “Namaste” with a slight bow, palms pressed together. The women, however modest their caste, are always clothed in the traditional ghagra or kanchli in bright oranges, yellows, purples and blues, in stark contrast to the environment. The children run out from the villages and excitedly exchange a few words in English with us, some barefoot, others on bicycles and even Vespa scooters.