When I first looked at the expiration date on my visa stamp, I shuttered to think that I might be away from the comforts of my own home for that long. 3 months tops I thought. Fast forward five and here I am, at a cross roads with infinite choices and an endless supply of freedom at my disposal. I can actually visualize that very fast forward too, it plays out like a reel of film in my mind. I see images of places and of people; that is what traveling boils down to after all, the places you've visited and the people you've met. It's memory overload when I think of this past 5 months in India, so many damn memories of places and people that they're fighting for first place in line. Each one wants to give me that wave of euphoria, that rush of excitement and joy that occurs when you recall that very moment and how it made you feel.
I had a rough plan of going to Nepal after India to continue my Himalayan adventures for a few weeks, but it's as if my internal weather alarm is beeping, signalling it's need for Vitamin D and ocean breezes. For the past 31 years every July has been spent on the coast; my body knows nothing else but sunshine, beaches and bike rides this time of year. I know the whole point of traveling is to experience new things -out of the norm adventures that you can't get back home. But dammit I miss the ocean.
Home is a possibility; one more unforgettable summer spent camping, riding my bike, and lounging on restaurant patios with friends I love. Definitely a great choice indeed. But the fact of the matter is that I'm already in Asia, I have no current grown up obligations at home, and I'm not getting any younger. Add to that I don't even think I'm ready to go home yet, it's like the tables have turned and traveling is now easy, going home is what brings anxiety now.
I've decided to extend my journey to the archipelago of Indonesia. I've done the pros and cons of this decision, and as I listed the cons I realized that they don't really exist in my mind. More so they'd exist in the minds of others who'd think a 31 year old should be doing something a little more productive with his life than bumming around Asia with a backpack. But I don't think there's anything wrong with it, and that's all what really matters at this point.
India has left me mesmerised. From the Southern beaches of Kerala to the peaks of the Himalayas, it has everything you could ask for in a destination and some things, that if were jotted down on paper, you wouldn't wish for in your wildest dreams; that is until you come here and give this place a chance. It's hot, filthy at times, loud all the time, and the touts and beggars are relentless. My patience and sanity were tested almost daily, but whenever I went to sleep and pondered the days events I'd just laugh at how trivial the situation was in hindsight. We never went to bed angry at each other -the key to a long lasting relationship. I love everything about it here, including the stuff that at times drove me mad. To take away anything from the Indian experience-good or bad-would just make India less.....Indian.
It was love at first Rickshaw dispute I guess you could say. I know I'll return here in the future, and until that day arrives India will forever be in my day dreams.
A few shots of my time spent in Kolkata, a place that grew on me by the hour. A sprawling city that can get downright nasty during monsoon, and when I arrived it was just that- a torrential downpour causing some pretty grimy flooded streets. The blistering sun did eventually break through the clouds leaving me begging for rain again, but with sight seeing friendly weather at hand I immediately saw the beauty of this 'old school' city. Derelict buildings, human powered rickshaws, old taxi cabs and an antique metro system -India on Vinyl!
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