PEREGRINATIONS

If the last two weeks are any indication then it is not looking good for my creativity. It has been 13 days since I arrived in India. It is not that the heat, the dust, the noise, the light, the smells kill you; it is just that it saps your energy, your will, your motivation, your zest. It is my firm belief that as the heat and dust and smell and sounds become part of me, as I immerse myself in them, I shall rise again, reborn in my 'Indian' guise, having washed away the western patina. Equipped once again, to live in this part of the world.

Last weekend I took a break from the slow-crawl feel of the move and took a trip to Washington DC. Retracing a trip I took 9 years ago, my first visit to this country, wetting my toes in the ocean of unknown, unfamiliar, the foreign. The beginning of the circle that would close in 11 days when I board that one-way flight to Delhi. I digress. The last time I made this journey down the east-coast it was somewhat different. For one, it was winter outside, snow covered the ground. The coast was beautiful, but in a harsh wintry way.  I had little money in my hands, return flight unconfirmed, under perpetual tension of being in a foreign land, far away from family, from the familiar. Now, I am a more seasoned traveler. Yes, I am still a ‘worrier’ by nature. But the terror of the unfamiliar is gone. But happy to say, not so jaded to not look forward to the Cherry Blossom festival on the Mall and the beautiful symmetry of DC. As I stood on the Mall, crowded with families from all over the ...