Leaving Again
My past few days here have been a haze of business and friends, filled with nostalgic longing for more time in vibrant India. Even as I am eager to see my family and loved ones in the U.S., I am sad to be leaving those I care about here, unsure of when I shall return.
Who could have guessed that India would steal my heart so thoroughly? Not I, and probably no one else because I didn't get lost in this country the way I hear most people do. I never found God, I was not entranced by all the holy things, and I neither lost nor found myself in this land of contradictions.
Granted I was entranced by the color and life that most visitors notice. Everything here is alive, from the garbage on the streets to saris and salwar-kameezes worn by women. There is fullness to the air that satisfies my constantly curious sense of smell. And the cows, people, dogs, horses, and lord only knows what else parading through the streets, combined with the green flowering trees and plants certainly keep the eyes entertained. I observed and came to adore these things as the increasingly familiar pattern of streets in Bangalore, Delhi, and Dharamsala, laid grids in my soul that will call me back until the end of time.
However, while all these things are fabulous, the people I met and the friends I made are the real treasures of time well spent in this maddeningly diverse nation. As well as securing friends all over the U.S., from Maine to California, I came to know Tibetans, Indians, and Arabs from all over the middle east. As I traveled my social circle at times included people from every continent. I am going to miss these perspectives and the people they belong to.
By tomorrow I shall be in Washington DC, struggling to adjust to a new time zone and a different culture. On Sunday I will be joining many others in the struggle to keep women's right to choose in the U.S. as we march in the capital. On Monday I will be returning to Dayton, Ohio and the familiar home of my 92 year-old grandmother.