debut: 2/16/17
39,682 runs
In reply to JayMor
A Journey Through Untold Beauty India
Each time I set foot in India, I feel a strange, electric anticipation—like I’m about to open a long-forgotten letter addressed to me by time itself. Over the past ten years, my business trips have become more than work; they’ve become a quietly unfolding pilgrimage. I see the country changing with every visit: new roads, new faces, and a new rhythm of life pulsing through ancient streets.
Yet, beneath the surface, something enduring persists.
The north calls to me most insistently. The Himalayas loom in the distance, impossibly vast, their snow-capped peaks touching the sky and stirring something deep within me. Standing among those mountains, surrounded by monasteries that seem to grow out of the stone itself, I feel both humbled and uplifted.
The silence in those heights is unlike anything I’ve known—a silence that lets you hear your own heart and, perhaps, the whispers of those who came before.
I always feel a pang of isolation when I realize how little of the language I understand. In the cities, I move through a world of engineers and software experts, their conversations crisp and efficient, their eyes bright with ambition. I admire their drive, but there’s a part of me that aches to break through the barrier, to truly belong.
Sometimes, when dusk settles over Delhi or as I watch the sunrise over the Himalayas, I catch myself thinking about my family’s history—how my genes trace back to India and two other distant lands. There’s a yearning I can’t quite name, a sense that I’m searching for fragments of myself in the faces of strangers, in the taste of unfamiliar spices, in the music drifting from an open window.
India is at once familiar and utterly foreign—a place that stirs memories I’ve never lived and emotions I can’t explain. With each journey, I gather small treasures: a smile from a street vendor, the warmth of shared tea, the silent reverence of a monastery at dawn. They are pieces of a puzzle I am learning to assemble, slowly, with each return.
Sarge
