Something of Myself

Hell, it's great to be ALIVE.

Now that there are not many days left before I leave India, somehow I feel so complete. This trip of mine has been comprehensive in certain ways; opening up new relationships, meeting new people and making new friends. There is a sense of fulfilment when I reflect upon the fact that I reached out to so many people - touched them and felt a sense of mutual respect. These people won't be there after a week but their memories will. Raj, Suvam, Joyeeta, Bui, Purbasha, Bunna and Mithun (Nitin was always there, so he doesn't feature on this list). I met them as a group and I hit it off with them on a personal note. Everyone of them is special to me in unique ways. So thank you guys for making me feel wanted.

This is the bit where I also thank India for initially annoying me with her this-is-India attitude and slowly gripping me by her it-happens-only-in-India motif. The chai wala, the panwadi ka dukan, the driver who is too old to drive, the stranger-boudi who smiled at me at the Park street crossing, the infant child at Nizamuddin who begged for a biscuit, the auto-rickshaw driver who had a BSc degree, the cabbie who taught me that life was worth every second and should be lived like that, the blind old man at Hanuman mandir, the smell of authentic tandoori chicken, the taste of genuine Kingfisher, the smoke at Dublin, the moves at the remixed version of Asha's numbers, the eyes of the woman who looked at me in a strange way, the smell of fresh air, the stink of cow dung, the chemistry of Uttam Kumar and Suchitra Sen, the beauty of Tagore's songs...It is endless - this phenomenon, this idea, this reality, this me in this country, this India.

I will go back and in some ways feel good about being in UK. However, I will miss thee deeply. I have loved thee truly. You have given me what nobody ever has - the pleasure and the pride of being an Indian. So thank you.