I find my memory wondering to the time I first touched the soil of India. This was where I ended up fulfilling the old cliché and found myself! (Or perhaps more accurately, listened, re-discovered and took a good look).
This country was unlike anything I had experienced before and yet, I felt as though I had arrived home. My eager and tentative steps came to symbolise all she has to offer; she is a cultural paradox full of diversity and contrast. Beautiful sari’s flutter in the dirty streets, the farting monks text on their mobiles, she forced me to cover my shoulders and expose my heart.
She holds up a dusty mirror to who you are and if you are courageous enough to wipe off the dust and look at the contrast that is you, she will inspire grand change with humbleness and gratitude. And ironically amongst her chaos, she instills balance, wholeness and peace. The only place you can find peace in India is within!
I simultaneously love her and hate her. She will accept you, take you high and make you cry. She can be guaranteed to hand you what you need, although it may not be what you think you need and there is an adventure to be had around every corner.
If you embrace her she will show you how to lift the veil shrouding your heart. And offers you an abundance of tools and experiences to do it. She asks you to accept, to trust, be courageous and guides you on an invigorating journey of ever increasing enlightenment. It can be a challenging and bumpy ride that is best taken with an attitude of curiosity and a huge dose of humour and playfulness. One rickshaw journey will require all of these qualities! I love her.
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