I rushed into the newsagent on Holloway Road North London, I said to the guy working there "Do you think I am Indian?" his eyes glazed over, all misty and romantic. "Madam I would love to see you in a sarai." He headed from behind the counter towards me. I shot out the door. That wasn't the point. I grew up in Birmingham not knowing my Dad. I had convinced myself I was Indian from a very young age. I wanted him to entertain my dilemma.

It has been a long time since I travelled to India but with this miserable winter and the recent exhibition at The Barbican called 'The Imaginary Institution of India' 1975-1998 I thought I'd write a few words.

As a young woman, I travelled all over India hoping to feel a connection. I loved travelling there apart from the one day when a cross-eyed guy with milk bottle glasses popped his head under the toilet cubicle door (well, if you could call it that). I was on the loo. The lenses in his glasses could stop a bullet. (I needed a gun).

I think you will all agree there is something magical about India. The golden temples, the vibrant festivals, tigers, the pretty ladies and the Taj Mahal. My view of India has always been incredibly charmed. The exhibition at the Barbican was equally inspiring. The pieces were created during social upheaval; the works were about friendship, love, desire, family friendship and religion. I was accompanied by a very handsome Indian man. I mean why not?

Here are my top five pieces from 'The Imaginary Institution of India' at The Barbican:

**Gieve Patel- Gonna - View of the Matter 1979**

**Terracotta Heads - Himmat Shah- 2008**

I am a bit annoyed I didn’t take note of the photographer that took this and I have no idea who the lady is, isn’t she beautiful?

Whilst romance is in the air it reminded me that I had my wedding dress made in Kerala. I took a journey in an Ambassador taxi (a fantasy of mine) to meet the dressmaker. I had planned this dreamy, silk-beaded scenario in my mind months before our trip. It was what movies were made of. I stood in my bra and knickers waiting to get measured. My clothier arrived. "Alright our kidda" Raj was from Selly Oak in Birmingham. I'm serious.

India skips between being spiritual, deep and intelligent to being absolutely bonkers, nuts, crazy, flipping mental. Well, I'd be insane, deranged and crackers if I didn't give it a go out with that handsome Indian man that I went to the exhibition with Ravi, if you're listening it's time to ask me out yet again. This time I will say yes. Don't wear your black milk bottle glasses though. Lol.

Much Love

Julesx

PS I did my DNA test a few years ago. I'm 97% Skandi after all.

*Cover photo: Alamo Square - San Fran

The Art of India

STAY INFORMED