Carrying me through each step was the gift that Book Passage gave me, and others: assurance that we are on the right path. That every page written, every risk taken, and every dream believed are actually leading somewhere.
As far as I have found, a love for India isn’t wrapped up in any one city or any one experience. Instead, it’s a thousand little things that have slowly folded into each other, into one overwhelming love for this fascinating country.
“Let’s take you home,” Hannah said, and I swear to you, I could’ve cried. And after an hour of unpacking and setting out knick-knacks, I did cry, just a little, and they were all tears of big, huge, inexpressible joy.
It’s in the covered portion of the market that it hits me, what exactly I find so intoxicating about this place. Yes, the fragrance of jasmine and rose blossoms no doubt has something to do with it, but it’s this, too: These are the colors of India.
Pigeons aren’t supposed to be beautiful, I tell myself. And yet I see it everywhere I look – in the outline of their wings, in their iridescent neck feathers, in the wind brushing my face which isn’t wind at all but the result of a hundred birds moving the air at the same time.
At the end of our visit, my mind still swimming with the smiles of Vijay and Amir, Manisha and Madhu, I am left in awe of this full-circle moment – helping deliver boxes from Operation Christmas Child which I myself once packed.
While I exult in the natural beauty of Pandant Beach, I exult furthermore in the gift Made has given me – the gift of solitude. The gift of space. The gift of an illusion – of being able to imagine I’m the first one here.
On a recent trip, I realized train travel is about slipping into a world that could only happen here – not on a plane – where strangers buy each other tea and hold their children and by the end of the journey, can call themselves friends.
It’s still hard to say what exactly made our day so cool. Maybe it was that “everything is its own reward,” and I couldn’t help thinking about all the little moments that had led us to North Beach, and where all of our paths would lead us after.
The fireworks prove tricky to photograph – especially getting certain things like exposure and focus right. That’s when I decide to turn off my camera’s auto-focus, twist the lens and blur the suckers to a point beyond recognition.