The last email from India

Dear Kevin,dear kevin jpg

I was sitting in the common area of B&C when I was sending you this email (another long one from me you must guess). I met Bibesh and Simar a few hours ago and they were shocked to see me again, tattered after my 17-hour bus ride from Manali. It’s unbearably hot here. The heat put me into a lethargic state in which I couldn’t function properly. The sky of Delhi was still blue maybe because of the wishes you keep sending me. I was lucky enough not to see the grey polluted Delhi sky in any day I stayed here (it must be because I didn’t stay here long enough :P).

It’d been already two months since I met you the first time here but it seemed like everything had just happened the day before. Since then I had met more people, been to more places in India and grown quite a lot. Like a tree, I keep absorbing sunlight and water and I keep branching and changing leaves. It’s a beautiful process. I didn’t have to use any tips you and many other friends told me in order to survive in India. The country and its people treated me so well until my last day. I met some of the kindest, nicest, and friendliest people here. I also met the most humble, welcoming, and caring people in this country. I want to tell all of my friends who still doubt about traveling to India that, “hey, just come here, experience it, and make your own stories, don’t listen to other people’s stories”. I feel blessed, grateful, and happy that I’ve been to this place.

And I came back to this city from which I ran away. I didn’t regret the choice at all. I never regret any of my choices. Different choices lead to different paths and each path has its own beauty. I have learned to embrace the choices I have made and myself for making these choices.

That day when we watched my first sunset in Old Delhi (and your second last sunset in India), we talked, we connected. I didn’t remember much of our conversations which took place in an old building in Old Delhi, in Haus Khaz village, in metros, in the kitchen of B&C, and in many more places but I would never forget those moments of being emotionally connected to another human being. They are just very beautiful. It’s so easy to talk to you, Kevin. Today, on my last day in this country, I decided to meet up a friend again, whom I didn’t have so much time to talk to when I met her the first time, or the second time, or the third time. We had a good but short conversation the last time I met her randomly in Dharamsala, and I knew at that moment that she’s someone I had to talk to again, to get in touch with, to get inspired from, and to learn from. And Kevin, I was right. We laughed, we made fun of life and people, we sympathized with each other’s stories, and we were connected. We are two women who never think of ourselves as women but simply as human beings. It frees us from social norms and it gives us bravery and courage to travel alone as a woman. It doesn’t take much time to get to know someone. I’m glad I decided to meet her again. I’m glad we did spend time together until late night. On the way back, I was on a metro full of drunken old men. Some looked happy some look miserable. I was wondering for a second what their lives were like. Bonobo’s music was on replay and my mind was filled with thoughts. I still couldn’t believe I was about to leave this place soon. But I was happy and content.

I notice that I become generous with my words not only to myself but also to the people I’ve met on the road. Here is a part of a conversation I had with that friend tonight:

Me: “So it doesn’t matter if it’s Kevin or Peter or Tom whom I write to. At first I wrote to Kevin as if I wrote to myself because I feel comfortable doing so and because it’s easy to write to someone whom I feel connected with. But then I started to meet more people with whom it’s so easy to share my ideas and thoughts. I write to another friend about my thoughts, those weird philosophical ones, thoughts that I used to keep only for myself because the magic they hold would disappear if I say them out loud, I used to believe. Then I started to realize I became more open to people. I share my thoughts more. I have learned to express those indescribable thoughts into words. I have learned to express my emotions in ways that everyone could understand. I have learned so much about myself through the act of traveling.”

Friend: “It’s fascinating!”

I caught changes in her facial expression. I knew she listened to every single word I said. And she was busy with her thoughts, too. I guessed she related my words to herself. We have parts of our souls that are so similar that help us to sympathize and connect to each other. It amazes me. It fascinates me. People like us, people like me, people like you are everywhere once we venture out to see the world, once we accept who we are,  adopt unknown parts of our selves, and once we are open to other people.

You mentioned “love” in your last email. Yes, I am in love. But not only with that one person had I mentioned in my previous email. I am in love with people: my family, my friends, strangers, and with myself. The feeling called “love” I’m experiencing is indescribable. It controls my heartbeat, my breath, my thoughts, and my senses. It makes me emotional, sensitive, patient, mindful, and wise. I feel “love” even when I am not with people, when I spend time on my own. I am both the lover and the beloved. This love always resides within me. I was searching for it without knowing it’s here, always here. Love. Life. Life is beautiful beyond words.

I’m coming back home! It’s been almost seven months since I left. I told you I’d come back in Nepal after India but because of the recent earthquakes, I think it’s better to go home and see my family first before I venture out again.  The idea of coming home spontaneously came when I was on a bus from Dharamsala to Bir – a famous spot for paragliding (yes, I did fly in the sky!!!). I was nervous, a bit intimidated, but also excited to come back “home” – a place I’ve rarely been for the past five years. It’s weird that I don’t feel like I belong to a place where I was born and grew up. The city keeps expanding while my love for it keeps fading away.

So, I didn’t go to the famous Taj Mahal, or Varanasi. Among all the places you suggested me go I only went to Jaipur. But it doesn’t matter, as I said in my previous email, I’d been to other beautiful places and I’d met a lot of beautiful people there and I’m satisfied. I found myself moving from one small town to another one. Each of them was one paradise of mine. I’d love to come back in India and I hope we could meet here again, when both of us come back to this magical land.

Hugs

An