2 years, 2 months and 10 days...

When I think about that October 10th morning, in 2006, when I landed in Delhi, it feels like ages ago. The vivid memory of Manav and Pavitra standing there, at the end of the runway, so to speak (if you’ve been to delhi airport you know what I’m talking about…You have to walk this long walkway out of baggage claim, with drivers and on lookers eyeing you with intimidation, before leaving the terminal) seems like forever ago. It wasn’t my first, second or third time to India, it was more like my 13th or 14th – so I wasn’t shocked or intimidated in the slightest by it… In fact, it felt like coming home. The sounds, smells, bustling activity were comforting and immediately invigorating. After picking me up, Manav and his “cool” bro, took me to Defence Colony where we had breakfast at ‘Angels in my Kitchen’. I ordered an Indian style omelet and made sure there were plenty of green chilies mixed in to complete my India induction.

After breakfast and shopping for some basic necessities, they brought me to my hotel. After checking in I settled into my room, noticing the mothballs in the sink and bathroom, I relished again, in the thought of being home. The events that took place those next 3 weeks to 2 years, 2 months and 10 days are too great to write down in a single blog entry – and I think you’d get bored reading through them…but to me they are memories, events, relationships, challenges, successes, joys and pains that have shaped me into who I am today. I don’t know what it means to be from a certain country, culture or place…but I do know that in more ways than I know now, I am Indian…and I fully embrace it, love it and cherish it.

I’m leaving India January 22, 2009 and I don’t know what to do with that reality. In essence, I’ve spent the good part of the last 5 years of my life in India… And if you know me…I hate goodbyes…endings…letting go. This reality for me has been harder than I’ve expected. I feel like something is being torn from me and with all my strength I’m holding on to it…and I feel weak. I don’t know where I’m from…I don’t have a home…and India has been like so many people/families I’ve met through out my life… it’s accepted me as its own and made me feel at home.

I wish I could go back and re-live that October morning all over again. But unfortunately, life demands we live in the present, though my ‘story like’ mind wants to go back and re-live this chapter in my life.

My only hope is that I will be able to give back to this country what it has given me. I look forward to that hope and know that this chapter won’t just be a chapter in my life, but a leading theme that shapes story of my life.