As I fly over the deserts of the Middle East on a homeward-bound flight from India, I'm sitting here trying to unravel everything I saw, every flavor I tasted, every sound I heard. My senses have been bathed in stimulation and I'm left feeling almost overwhelmed.
This morning as the day was dawning I was getting dressed with the waves of the Indian Ocean lapping the shoreline just a stone throw away. The salty air filled my senses as birds sang and the tropical sun warmed my skin. My seven-day Indian adventure was coming to an end, but what an adventure it was. These were seven days filled with memories and anecdotes that will be relived and recounted for years to come, I'm sure.
India had long been on the list of places I wanted to see, though the possibility of seeing it seemed as far off as the country itself. But quite unexpectedly the opportunity to visit that far away land came up and in no time, or so it seemed, I was stepping out of an airport into the warm aromatic embrace of this beguiling country.
So today, as the plane took off and propelled us to the suburbs or heaven above the tropical shoreline below, I listened to music on my iPod and quietly watched the land fade into the hazy distance. Before it was out of sight I waved farewell to India, such is my style.
I don't know when or if I'll ever return to that mystical land of diverse wonder with its colors and chaos spilling onto its streets. With its palm-tree clad hills and mountains, with its cheap imitations of western brands and its ancient temples of Eastern Gods, with its warm ocean surf and cold hotel showers, this was my India. Though maybe I should say this was my introduction to India because while this flight is heading home, I don't think the journey that started seven days ago ends here.