Beside a bench on the station platform lay the fly-covered corpse of a young man. A few coins thrown on the body as there was no one there to take him to the funeral pyre. As the morning wore on, we waited for the train. No one touched the body, few even looked at it although he was on a station platform. A western couple sat on the bench reading a Lonely Planet guide book, planning their own journey. Just a metre away death avoided their attention. It struck me as odd, how different the attitude to death is in India to the UK. The soul passes on, that much is a given. If it didn’t, then why live or die?