On Inhabiting India
a little something from the ride home: as i struggle to hold my pencil steady while riding the ricketiest of rickety tourist vehicles, i gaze out into the world of maharastra. the many shades of vibrant greens and mountains melt me each time the indian sun peaks out from its hiding spot, deep behind monsoon clouds. because of the trees, i can't stop smiling. today, i am in awe of this dazzling scene and i know that everything is, really, alright. the best keeps on coming, the monsoons are nearly over. i am finally back under the sun, where i belong.