Back at home

Back in NYC, I couldn’t help but feel that some “magic is missing”, as my friend, Anu, put it tersely. Sure it felt good to take regular showers with clean, warm water, drying off and not feeling sticky. The ease of filling up a cup of tap when you're thirsty is convenient to say the least. Basking in the cooled air, watching the tube, and drinking a brew is numbing in a good way sometimes. But, this tame world was missing that wild magic that filled me to the brim with hot emotions everyday in India. The spice was gone. The weather was temperate. People were agreeable. New York City, once a wild and dangerous beast, is now much tamer. I felt a sense of control, a feeling that I could play in this playground and nothing would stop me.

It was obvious that my standards changed while I was away. I remember doing my laundry the day after I got back to New York. Walking to the laundromat, rules were on the fringe on my conscience. Jaywalking seemed like a joke. Sporting a soiled shirt, disheveled hair, and more than a stubble, I walked without a care. I felt rebellious and confident. Before my trip, these things weren't important to me, but they were undeniably a weight in my mind. Now I felt they were laughable, thoughts I could mock and easily ignore. But, I would start caring about them more with time. But those few days as a maverick were odd in a good way.

The permanent effects of India on me are impossible to pinpoint because the answer is not anywhere. But, I can say that I feel firmer for sure. I am fortified and ready for more: more challenges, more exposure, more traveling, more experimenting. Though my skin is thicker, the wall between the world and me is ever thinner. I want to let her readily flow in, challenge my beliefs, and confuse me. She is a great multifarious mystery, a raconteur, a bedazzler. I am her friend, an investigator, a listener, a bright-eyed observer.