This is India

You really come into yourself and find the core of adamant strength inside yourself while facing a true problem that nobody other than yourself can do something about, although there are plenty of people in your backspace all the while. I had lots of money stolen, and though maybe it did lower my level of happiness these past days by an inch, following the one hour of crying when I realised it was gone, and waking up the next morning to realise that it wasn't all a horrible nightmare, I accepted it. At least it was only money. I moved on.

I read up on my insurance (if I got kidnapped or hit by a tsunami, I'd be bloody rich!) asked around and am trying to figure out what to do next. And it's fine. The whole situation has me kind of proud of myself. I'll do as much as I can to sort out what I can, and I am glad to have enough strength in myself to not freak out and just accept the irregularities of life.

It's only money after all.

I sat on my loft today looking out across the bunker loo and the surrounding forest and I was struck by a sense of homeliness. I love being in Auroville and India in particular, but I've thoroughly enjoyed the idea of going home, alhough now as I today cycled away from Solitude farm for the last time, smiling at the bear-hug that wonderful Khaled gave me as we parted, the goodbyes and farewells and the feeling that I will be missed; I realised that I too will miss this. I will miss India. A lot.

Sitting on the loft I could picture myself in a simple house in the forest, farming everyday, leading his life of muddy roads and hectic huge cities. I could stay here. Despite the mosquitos and huge spiders that seem to be cropping up everywhere more and more. Despite the lack of internet and newspapers and good coffee and toilet paper, and the choir of lizards that sing their nocturnal serenda for you just as the first minutes of sleep begin to draw you in. I could. Stay. But I do look forward to going home. And I hope to be able to hold on to a little bit of India. Showering with a bucket I have taken to immensely. I saves so much water I can't stand the idea that I would shower with constantly running water. The mere idea seems stupid and ridiculous.

The bindi feels normal too, I find that my face looks odd without it, but I fear it might give the wrong impression about my character and I despite the prejudice of generalisation.

I needed India in order to come back into myself, face the hysterical cities with cool, get on a train and ride the black torrent of loneliness through to Destination Unknown, lose fear and understand that though the heart of man may seem brittle at times, the soul is strong, and knowing that you possess that strength will get you through anything from bad directions, to wrong trains, to traffic accidents, to long dark lonely streets and the confusing labyrinth of beaurocracy.

And when you have in your backspace the wonderful mix of a wonderful mom, some random guys ready to shove all their money and possessions into your hands without a moment's hesitance, people in every continent of the world that you love and that love you, nothing can truly go wrong in life.

ACCIDENTS and INCIDENTS and just a tiny bit of blood

Written on the 25th and today...

I got a calendar today whilst bustling about in the village with Eleonora on her bike. Seeing January and February laid out so neatly (on 100% organic paper) in front of me made me realise how quickly time has passed, and is passing. Only one week left. Exactly one week from now I'll be stressing to catch my bus in Chennai, and in two weeks from now I will have returned to the frozen lunar landscape that I call home. Crazy how time flies.

Oh. I had my first traffic accident today. More like an incident really. It was not dramatic at all, or really noteworthy, but because I've never really made use of any vehicles other than my bicycle for most of my life, I haven't really experienced any traffic related accidents, as far as I can recall. So anyhow, we're driving towards the village on Elenora's bike and I figure she must have suffered a short-circuit as they may come while driving, and while approaching an exceedingly slow moped driver and a speedbump, instead of slowing down she hit the gas and bumped right into the unsuspecting Aurovillian. It was fine. Eleonora shrieked, I think I said "shit", and the lady drove off with no more than a sigh, a shrug and the somewhat tired comment, "this is India".

We were fine. We didn't even topple over. The front of the moped got a bit dented though. The remainder of the afternoon was spent with an impromptu visit to a salong to get eyebrows threaded, followed by a mouth-watering visit to the Bakery; only to get bread though, and then whooshing out of the village, past the kashmiri vendors and to Eleonora's place on the other side of Auroville. Cigarettes, Lila Down, pictures and puppies.

Elenora in the Chocolate Factory of organicness (not real name...)

I had a very good conversation with her regarding farming and studying in general. Whatever qualms I've had about enrolling the biodynamic training were settled and if I needed, she pretty much convinced me that I am on the right line. In a few years, being able to sustain yourself is all that will matter, having the knowledge of survival and making a sustainable way of living will be worth gold.

Man, I need to start thinking about something else or I will start growing sprouts from my ears. On a random note, my favorite meal of the day is breakfast I have realised, I could eat breakfast for all my three mails of the day.

TODAY, 26th, WORST DAY IN INDIA THUS FAR.

25,000 rupees go missing mysteriously just as I prepare to pay for my brand new, actually really CHEAP mac that Rom Whitaker is bringing tomorrow. I now don't really have enough money left but hey, it's only money. Gah. 25,000 rupees is what I spend in a month in Sweden including rent. I just lost a month worth of living. Double Gah. While returning from in panic smoking 3 cigarettes in a row and crying for about half an hour I discover the biggest spider yet seen in India. It was huge. Huge. I panic, start screaming like a girl, hoping the neighbours will hear and come and rescue me, but they don't, which is too bad for many different reasons. I rush out of the house and try to bully the dogs to eat the spider, but they think I must be tricking them to go into the house where they know they're not allowed, so they just give me confused looks. At this point I discover the spray mosquito repellant, and in my thoughtless panic, grab it and resort to spraying the spider.

The spider freaks out and starts running all over the place, and I simply scream, spray it some more and hop around on the spot. It's obviously getting dazed, but as I for some reason through water on it, it is revived and starts scuttling into my dirty laundry, and this, this totally freaks me out, so I rush into the kitchen, grab the biggest bowl I can find (because I obviously don't want to get near it), manage to capture it, toss it out and watch it try to scuttle away from the house of pain. I think the mosquito repellant subdued it.

Panting, I walk back into the house and conveniently step on some broken glass from the bottle I accidently broke this morning. Just a tiny bit of blood but enough to cause me discomfort. I cry some more in my pathetic state of patheticness and then depart to the café, have loads of coffee and grumble.

Off to grumble at Eleonora's place. Food.

WORST DAY IN INDIA YET. Bloody money. Bloody spiders. Bloody feet.

Meanwhile, enjoy one of the many beautiful photos I took at Solitude Farm today. I never should have left the place, it's so tranquil. The real world hurts sometimes.