Forgive me if I start with the ridiculous. But bear with me: sooner or later I'll get to the sublime (oh, all right, the sub-prime). Our journey will take us from kebabs and call centres to cars and energy costs.
So I'm just back from a short business trip to India, and, as ever, I find myself pleased and surprised by that country. In particular, I was delighted to find Britain's national dish in such plentiful supply. Chicken tikka masala (not fish and chips, of course – do wake up at the back there) is now to be found in many a Mumbai eatery, especially those that aspire to "international" cuisine.
Invented by British-Asian restaurateurs, Indian cooking with an Anglo twist has been re-imported to its place of cultural origin. It's a charming little irony – and a reminder of home – to see seared chicken chunks and sweet sauce offered as a standard item on menus in big hotels.
However banal this observation might seem, it's a culinary indicator of a country that is brimming with confidence. India has long shaken off its colonial past, gladly accepts the English linguistic heritage as an instrument for doing commerce on a world scale, and just gets on with it. The Brits export modified cuisine, and the Indians have the business acumen to realise that there's a market for it, however bastardised food critics might consider that dish to be.
So much for Indian imports. The key export is knowledge and back-office support. The Americans, notably the eastern seaboard states, are in a state of panic about the onrush of well educated Indian folk picking up the phone in Bangalore and dealing with customer care enquiries from consumers in Hoboken, New Jersey. Accounting and payroll are being rapidly outsourced by UK companies such as British Airways. On a personal level, my American Express card queries and insurance matters (I have a household contract with Norwich Union, which has a large Indian back office) involve dealing with polite, smart people on the sub-continent.
So there you have it: the call centre and the curry: twin symbols of globalism.
And Mumbai is packed full of symbols. Amid the thrust and bustle, the remorseless vigour, the endless activity of one of the world's great seaports, the buildings and the boulevards have commercial and historical tales to tell to those prepared to stop and listen.
The Gateway of India, sited on the quayside by the end of Apollo Blunder, was constructed in 1924 to commemorate a state visit by King George V. Strangely familiar from its rendering in hundreds of neon restaurant signs (just how many UK restaurants bear the name 'Gate of India', I wonder) it speaks of a confident future far more than a colonial past.
The Gateway is no longer a political symbol, but a commercial hub. The street market that surrounds it is crammed with mainly Indian tourists looking to buy anything from clothing, jewellery, spices and ice cream to magic tricks and giant balloons. Overlooking the Gateway is arguably Mumbai's finest hotel. The Taj Mahal Hotel was founded by Indian industrialist JN Tata, who decided to build his own place after being refused entry to a British-owned hotel in Mumbai. The Taj inspires a sense of awe in many a guest – as do its accommodation and restaurant bills.
Tata's name is inescapable. It seems to be on every other gaudily painted, heavily garlanded transporter truck in the city. If you take a 10-minute cab ride you will pass a Tata lorry what seems like a hundred times. And then there's the not inconsiderable matter of Tata's acquisition of one of the world's iconic brands. The purchase of Jaguar from Ford has really bolstered the self-belief of an already self-confident nation. What Tata does with the brand, how it invests and develops the Jaguar range on a global scale, will make a fascinating tale.
But with the Indian boom come the inevitable problems. Inflation is rising at its fastest rate for seven years. The latest figures show wholesale price inflation up a whopping 8.75 per cent in the 12 months to May 31, and the overall inflation rate is now at its highest since February 2001. Oil prices are a major issue in India – energy costs make up 14.2 per cent of the inflation index… A relatively small hike in diesel prices can result in substantially higher food and transport prices.
The Indian stock market has been booming in recent years, although it's well off its highs of 2007. Investors who got in early enough have plenty of profits to count. But for all India's confident modernity, the international, outward-looking feel that the country has is relatively new. Getting an investment foothold was difficult to do for UK investors. I know because I am a long-term optimist for India's economic prospects, and have been following the country closely for years. It was tough to find a financial medium to express my enthusiasm, though. I had to fight hard with an independent financial adviser in 1996 to get into what was then the only investment trust available to UK investors (now called JP Morgan India IT, incidentally). But after an orgy of self-certification and disclaimer-signing, I managed it.
When I looked out over the quayside and saw the Mumbai Gateway I surveyed the marriage of the old and the new. I saw the old-style commerce of the street market, and behind it the Indian obsession with new technology combined with an undiminished work ethic.
The contagion of the sub-prime crisis is really not felt in India. Although inflation is a worry, I'm still sitting pretty on those investments made over a decade ago. High oil, the demands of the international business community to impose its standards of employee welfare, and the possibility that India's own high-tech bubble might burst one day are all concerns. But overall, I'm still very glad to be an Indian investor.
Martin Baker is a journalist, author and commentator on international business affairs.