If philosophy is the mind of India, then sensuality is its heart. Indian culture refuses the Cartesian split between body and spirit. The sacred is experienced through taste (the prasadam offered to a deity), through touch (the prostrating before a guru), through scent (the smoke of camphor and sandalwood), and through sound (the resonance of the om or the aarti bell).

Clothing, too, is a text. The sari , a single unstitched length of cloth, is arguably the world’s most elegant garment, draped in over a hundred distinct regional styles. It is simultaneously a symbol of tradition, femininity, and, in the hands of modern designers, radical chic. The kurta-pajama for men and the salwar-kameez for women offer comfort and modesty while allowing for endless expression. The recent surge in pride for handloom textiles—the khadi of Gandhi, the kanjeevaram silks, the bandhani tie-dyes—represents a conscious rejection of fast fashion and a reclamation of artisanal identity.

The most fascinating aspect of contemporary Indian culture is its effortless, often paradoxical, navigation of modernity. A software engineer in Bangalore can wear a bespoke suit while checking his mother’s horoscope on his smartphone before a meeting. A teenage girl in a Delhi college might fast for Karva Chauth (a prayer for her husband’s long life) while simultaneously leading a feminist protest. The same family that worships a cow will aggressively debate stock portfolios.