Finding my feet - Part 1

The last month crashed down and I dint realize when it did. It had tumbled down and I have to say it was a joyous tumble. A tumble the gave way for growth, understanding and self actualization.

I traveled last month. Finally found my feet as they walked where time my companion took me. From sacred grounds on earth to more sacred ones in my soul. Things are definitely not the same in my heart and I definitely have grown immensely in the last one month, regaining authority, choice and understanding of my very being.

Bihar where Laloo sits below a tree spitting paan, where the uncouth people carry guns, a foreground of crime and naxalites, this was the picture the media had painted for me. But from the minute I arrived in Patna, it was the beginning of the end of such baseless accusations. With every second growing I felt the green breeze of warmth, innocent people smiling, amused by a city girl in a villager, the children naked playing ; it was a exorcism of everything the media made me believe Bihar was.

I stepped into Patna unsure and anxious to be embraced into comfort as family by a home I now call mine.

Sitamadi- finding my foot back to home
The memory that I cant shake away of this place is the emerald green lake where the Legendary Godesss Sita was found by her father King Janaka. It was at this spot my eyes stilled with the beauty it held the green serenity of this place I now called home.

We traveled a grueling 8 hours a 4 hour from Patna to Sitamadi delay due to the floods in Bihar. From the window of my car, I witnessed natures gallery of lush green bamboo thickets that stooped to kiss the lake, children with smiles that were still so pure it could warm your eyes, the sound of their laughter as their foot kissed the earth as the ran naked, banyan trees with their tresses swaying in the wind, young mothers with childlike faces battling with love with their crying babies… it was a flickering flashes of beauty.

Men crouching on top of buses, the narrow careening market ways, the roads where cows slept, more images, just more to see.

Strange realizations come to us in unexpected times. It was in the days I spent in Sitamadi I rediscover what I called home. Amidst the green, like a child walking barefoot over wet grass. I understood this is what home means.

My travel took me yet again to the holy city of Beneras. The trade city of everything sacred, the city famous for its saris,the city where ganga speaks and the ghats lead you to she.

I found friends here.

The days I stayed in Beneras this time, made me understand how lovely it is to find and bond with people you meet unexpectedly. Vishal (the sane one) and Siddharth ( the stoned one) have become so close to me that I feel life has its ways of finding the brothers you dint bother to see. In a way, in my constant search for family, I have found brothers of my creed.

It was in this city, in the bustling riot of colours, where paanwalahspunctuated every street and every corner you could see something holy, splashed in the saffron, I fell in chaos. The beauty of madness overtook me, the serenity it gave as we sat by the ghat listening to people sing in a distant corner, watching a lamp flicker across the ganges, smelling the scent of marijuana in the paan stained streets feeling the breeze as it ticked the flower garlands on display, I realized it shall always be with me.

All of it. I shall return I mumbled to myself, when it was time to leave.

I shall return to join the music of the river and find where I can rest free.

To be continued...