Dear India

Dear India,

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. Not ‘puppy love’ or a high school love. Rather I fell head over heels, heart beating fast, butterflies in my stomach kind of love with you. It didn’t happen right away, instead when I first arrived I felt nervous, you piqued my interest, but I was scared to be leaving my comfort zone. I guess I should be more specific though, although I do love India, in particular I fell in love with ‘my city’. It’s maybe not a city that at first glance has obvious good looks but if you’re willing to get to know it, it is more handsome because of its quirks. The slightly crooked nose or the deep set eyes that on their own could be seen as ‘off’ rather makes it to be quite attractive. I have seen a lot of India, not a ton in the grand scheme of its size, but enough to get an idea of what there is to be offered here, and it just further proved how in love I had fallen. I would miss the culture ‘my city’ offered while I was away. I missed the people who have become my ‘home town’. That was something I was scared I would miss living somewhere that had so many people, but have recently realized you have allowed me to create a community all my own. From the ladies who sell flowers outside my apartment, the guards at my apartment, the guards at work, the shop keeper down the street, the staff at our ‘regular’ restaurants, my daily auto driver home, the old lady who is always outside to wave at me when I get home, I have found my own small town. For these small things I have fallen a little bit harder.

Things that once drove me insane, and still push me over the edge on certain days, have me amazed at your ability to stay so unique in a world that is quickly growing smaller and more similar. Your sounds, many types of transportation, food carts, and traditional clothing help me understand you and the culture so much more. It also makes me feel a part of something so much bigger than myself.

Although I am still stared at, for the most part you have opened your arms and welcomed me in a way I never expected. I rarely feel unsafe, rather I feel like I have a whole city looking out for me. The guards at work have been the most tangible example of this, never letting me get my own auto home but rather fighting for me to always only pay meter or a fair price, another way I feel accepted is when I answer a simple question with a yes in Tamil and the driver asks “you speak tamil?” and I answer smiling and laughing “no, sir” and we laugh together. The way you ‘my city’ have opened your arms and made me feel at home, so far away from my home, has made me fall a little deeper in love.

So how is it that my heart can love two places so much, and how do I figure out how to handle what surely will lead to heartbreak in just a few months. I can’t imagine a life where I don’t eat with my hands, where my head movements tell you yes or no, where I have to fight for a fair price to get home, or where even breakfast is spicy. I am trying to stay present as you my love have asked and require to fully enjoy life, but my mind betrays me often. I am nervous to leave you, praying that our love is strong enough to beat the test of time and distance. I know this isn’t my last time in this country or even in this city that has become ‘my city’. I couldn’t be separated from half of my heart for the rest of my life. To you India, you have stolen my heart, and I happy for you to keep it.