My "Mumbai or bust" dream...

(that I know is coming out of left field - sorry, I wanted to make sure it actually happened before I started writing about it)...has become a reality. On October 11th, I leave for 6 months of what some might say is my very own version of "Eat Pray Love," the NY Times best selling book by author, Elizabeth Gilbert, and recently released movie starring my all-time favorite, Julia Roberts (who I just heard recently is Hindu).  However, what I am looking to do is very different from and not at all inspired by the book; I actually bought the book after I made my decision when someone said "oh, kinda like EPL?!," but I eventually skipped past the first third of the book (Italy - I promise I did not ruin it for you) and went straight to India.  & the latter part of that is what my personal journey is going to be all about... INDIA and finally giving myself the opportunity to live in the country where I have always felt most "at home"... most like my natural and enlivened self.

Now it's natural to think that that feeling could very well be because I've only gone for short intervals and as a guest of relatives who, although I insisted they not do any of this, would sweetly but relentlessly ask me "agar mujhko kuch khaana peena hain" (if I wanted anything to eat or drink) and not allow me to even bring my own dishes to the sink after doing all that eating and drinking.   As amazing as those trips were, I know that I don't feel how I do in India because I got to live the easy life for a few weeks... unlike my parents who - in spite of spending half their lives there and being surrounded by their entire extended family - were usually  "done" with India after 2 weeks of being there, or my brother who - was born here and raised by the same parents - didn't know what to quite do with himself when our whole family went in '05 and was thrilled at being back, for some reason, India has always had an incredibly special place in my heart and every trip there has never felt like enough...

The "not enough" all started when I was 7....  My brother and I had spent the summer in India without our parents, and when it was time to leave, woah nelly.  I was in hysterics at the thought of leaving my Naaniji (grandmother) so much so that... I revolted against being "forced to leave" making for a very unpleasant long ride to the airport... when we got there, I desperately sat on the floor, engulfed my head in the pleats of my Naani's saree (oh wow, I didn't expect this... I am crying recounting this)... as I gasped for air between sobs, I responded (in Hindi) to her questions, "what about your Mummy-Papa? Your brother? won't you miss them?" by insisting that "I'd forgotten Hindi, so couldn't go back and that they would all just have to visit me!"... Finally, after refusing to follow my brother into security, I was tricked into making my way through with the lure of "Naaniji being over there."  After eagerly making my way across, I asked my brother "where is Naani?" My little girl heart shattered into a million pieces when he pointed and I saw that she was actually over there, and I was no longer allowed to go back.  *Sigh* to my poor parents & what I put them through when I came back...

Although leaving India in following trips was never something that I looked forward to, it was thankfully far less dramatic.  I understand that how I felt at the tender age of 7 was attachment to family that I only got to see every several years, but what I have felt in trips (4 in the past 6 years) during my adulthood, is something that not only tugs at my heart but at my soul.  Speaking of my soul...  after seeing my reactions to movies about India's fight for freedom, like "The Legend of Bhagat Singh," other injustices of the past (that still persist today not due to outsiders, but ignorance) in films like "Water," or even something like the present day frustration of life there which was wonderfully depicted in "Rang De Basanti," my mom has always said that I am an Indian krantikari (revolutionary) reincarnated (uhh... minus the whole-sacrificing-of-my-life-for-my-convictions thing!).

Now I don't know about all that, but I am aware that when in India, I am overcome by a sense of this is where I feel most alive (which is interesting b/c I'm really a pretty lively person as it is).  I also know my heart and how it fills up with everything from delight at non-stop hearing & speaking Hindi, intense emotion seeing something like a baraath (wedding procession) make its way down a crowded street, gratitude at experiencing the most remarkable kindness, pride at everything that is amazing, and grief over everything that is shameful and horrific... and more than anything else, my heart fills up with the possibility that I see India as and the possibility of me that I see in India.

More about that possibility, how it all transpired, & my intentions for India in future posts.

As always, thank you for reading.

Write Soon ~ Smile Moon :)

When you do things from your soul you feel a river moving in you, a joy.  When action comes from another section, the feeling disappears. ~ Jalal ad-Din Rumi