Faded pink and burnt orange.
The unique gradient of pale pink seen in the cloth of a turban faded by plenty of sunlight. The dark orange shades of marigolds, but also ground spices piled high in market stall baskets, kept in tins near the kitchen stove, giving earthy warm tones to chutneys and pickles.
The delicate fragrance of jasmine garlands in South India.
The joy of noticing their scent in the air even before reaching a flower market or street stall. Being embraced in a little cloud of simple luxury when wearing them. Their scent mixing with all other smells around, making everything fresher and sweeter.
The combination of a sweet, hot beverage and a savory, deep fried snack.
Introduced to the concept in Tamil Nadu, coffee along with a spicy bite after watching the sun rise has become a favourite treat for me while travelling in India - or a reminder of India anywhere else. (However, the taste I most crave when thinking of Indian food certainly is a podi dosa).
Lots of honking in a stream of colourful traffic in endless motion and along with all those sounds around you while being a part of it - preferably on a bike, entirely immersed in the flow.
Those different styles of beautiful hand weaves, but mostly the soft cotton scarves which cover your head when visiting temples, which shield from burning sunlight, which billow in a breeze, dance around your face and wipe off sweat and dust throughout the day.