One thing at a time.
That’s the motto these days! Without my lists, no telling where I’d be right now. I’ve had a hard time even remembering what day of the week it is. . .
But, overall, I really can’t complain. The weather is gorgeous, the coffee is good, and the sleep is everything sleep should be.
“The soul is the same in all living creatures although the body of each is different. ” – Hippocrates
Some days it is strange to think my world looked like this a few weeks ago.
I haven’t stopped for more than a few seconds since I got home, but yesterday at dinner, I finally sat down and looked through a couple of India photos. These stood out to me.
These were taken on a a typical grey, monsoon day down by the burning ghat (Manikarnika ghat) in Varanasi. I stayed at a place near the ghat and went nearly everyday. Even when I was trying to avoid the ghat, I was always drawn back there.
Varanasi in the rain was a strange this time around. Dirtier, weirder and even more magical and alluring than ever.
I’m so glad I went back. I’m glad that I got stuck there and had time to rest and recover fully before doing India this way. . .
[Photos: Manikarnika ghat, Varanasi//Grace Farson]
Train booked.
Traveling by train will be nice. No more buses again (*at least for a while).
Leaving the city of death (aka lovely Varanasi//Banares) the day after tomorrow and heading back to Mumbai.
Plans change, but its all a part of the journey.
“I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking, not listening to the others, keeping the moment precious for all time, because we were peaceful all of us, we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again. Some of us would go away, or suffer, or die, the future stretched away in front of us, unknown, unseen, not perhaps what we wanted, not what we planned. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched. Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all. This was secure, this funny little fragment of time he would never remember, never think about again…For them it was just after lunch, quarter-past-three on a haphazard afternoon, like any hour, like any day. They did not want to hold it close, imprisoned and secure, as I did. They were not afraid.” – Daphne du Maurier
[Photo: Delhi’s trains//Grace Farson]
Here in Varanasi, safe and sound.
And, never have I valued safe and sound more.
The past few days have been a blur. Honestly, it is difficult even coming to terms with all that has happened!
It’s been something like this ->
Packing bags // Moving // two boarder crossings // buses, cycle rickshaws, more buses, auto rickshaws// Trying to sleep // bus crash and only remembering yellow light // three ambulance rides// two hospitals // collapsing//dressing wounds//arriving in Varanasi//relaxing, resting, and recovering.
All that said, we’re okay. All of us. Stitches, whiplash, bruises and all.
These days I’m thankful for okay.
Thankful for prayer and for the power of adrenaline, and healthcare all around the world.
It is by far the strangest welcome back to India I’ve ever had. Day one// trip number four to India, and then all of this. . .
From here on out, I’m traveling by train in this vast country.
[Photo: Varanasi at sunset//Grace Farson]
Nepal, thanks for being good to me!
As always, thanks for moving me and for teaching me so many powerful life lessons. . . including, most important of all, a reminder of what is most important in life.
I’ll see you again in two years. Hopefully, next time I’ll be there to stay!
As I write this, it is so hard for me to believe that two months have already passed.
I’m sad to go and I’ve already cried twice – *leaving three lovelies back in Letang and leaving Kathmandu. . . but, for now, I’ve still got a lot to look forward to.
Starting with India.
Tomorrow, I’m heading back here. To even hotter heat and wilder days!
Peace and love from Chitwan.
[Photo: Durbar Square before a storm, Kathmandu//Grace Farson]
GRACE FARSON 