India Changed My Life Forever

I remember the first few hours when I saw India, which seemed to be a long fuse worldwide. I was so tired and overwhelmed that my body felt sick, and my heart beat too hard. The more the plane descended, the more I saw out the window. I saw so many small, brown dots around the airport. They appeared as big, messy heaps of boxes, just thrown there randomly. At first, I thought it was trash. But as we landed, I saw tiny houses where impoverished people lived. My heart twisted; it was not their house seeing that for the first time. When I walked off the aero-hotel, the air was not fresh; it smelled terrible, was hot, and was sticky. I felt shivers down my arms when I walked into the hall where you pick up your bags. So many people instantly came to me, some just grabbing my bags, wanting to carry them. I needed clarification, as letting someone else take my stuff felt weird. It was like reading stories from old ages when one man could order another, and I wouldn't say I liked that.

Moreover, I was scared they would rob me and run. I said I could do it myself, but that did not work. Eventually, I had to allow them, keeping my eyes on my bags and them. They were swift, and I felt lost in the crowd. Everyone was hurrying, knocking each other, and that was wild. Later, I learned that by trying to carry the bags myself, I prevented that person from taking much-needed money for his family. I thought a lot about it.

Then, I had to find a taxi. Everyone who had helped with the bags seemed to know someone who drove a cab. They all screamed and argued about who would take me. I was sweating a lot and feeling sick from the tiredness and all the smells and sounds. It is hard to figure out what to do when too many people are around. And the noise is just too loud. Somehow, I got a taxi after talking too much about the price. I swear, that ride was traumatic! The car pushed us in all directions, and it felt like we would crash every second. And I was breathless almost the whole way.

Nevertheless, I got there and had to get on the train. I was warned to only sit in the first-class car and stay in the compartment for the ladies. The train was packed! People were hanging outside the train, and in some places, animals would sit with people. At every stop, a man would walk through while offering fruits like mangoes, papayas, or bananas and cold drinks, too. After five long hours of sitting on the train, I reached my destination. I grabbed a taxi to the hotel. I didn't sleep for more than a day and a half. The hotel wasn't pleasant. There wasn't any hot water, and I would get shocked every time I touched the water taps. I was just so tired. I was awake but completely exhausted. There were sounds all night. People were sleeping outside. Vendors were screaming about and selling their goods. Some dogs were barking. Sounds came from temples, mosques, cows, and cars honking simultaneously. It was like a gigantic, never-ending song of the city.

The longer I was in India, the less I minded these noisy explosions. The longer I was in India, the more I came to feel those sounds like a part of a big, beautiful song that was now mine, too. After I got here, I found an excellent place to stay near where I wanted to learn more about being calm and quiet inside. I had to change my money at the bottom, which meant going to a secret place behind a shop. So, a while later, I had women coming up to me, wanting to clean my house. And Just like that, I had someone helping me at home. I spent a lot of time learning how to be quiet and calm, sitting and thinking, and singing and dancing joyfully. There were people from all over the world there, and also many people from India. It was easy to include me in their group and feel a part of something special. I learned how to love the little things. People sold beautiful flowers and sticks that smelled sweet outside the gates at night. I learned how to ride a bike only on the left side of the road, to argue for prices in the shop, and to buy bottled water for my toothbrush because the tap water was not safe. I got used to a special kind of soap and lived where the shower shocked me, but at least it was hot. I wore local clothes, did not eat meat, and avoided TV and the computer.

I learned that death is something very much a part of life. There was this river close to where I lived, and the people living there used to have fires every night to say goodbye to the people who died. Sometimes, I could smell it from my window. There was also a graveyard that was close by, and wild animals would mess up the graves, and the children would play with things they found. Then everyone would sing and make music and noise and talk all night. It was their way of telling everyone what they made; they believed in the spirit of the DJ. In almost every street, everywhere during the day and night, you saw holy pictures and smelled sweet smells. And people are begging for help. I remember going far to get this oil that I loved, called the Queen of the Night. I still have and can still get it here, but I found it there. India just became a part of me. My heart was beating with the place, its mess, beauty, challenging things, and all the wisdom, colors, and sweet air. And the people. India is not just a country on the map. It is not just land and history. It is like a song, a form of a "poem-book." You cannot see it but feel it more potent than anything. It is like a tremendous considerable power.

My first trip to India occurred in the early nineties. The country was experiencing rapid changes. Some people had almost nothing, while others had more than they could consume. This experience transformed my life, allowing me to witness and be a part of an entirely new world that differed from what I had seen. India has taught me to find harmony in chaos and to hear the melody in the buzz.