On the endless plane ride to India…

On the endless plane ride to India I was wondering why I'm subjecting my body to this torture. Arriving in Bombay was nice but I didn't get the rush of bliss I expected....just....well, nice to be here. The lady at immigration commented on my tulsi mala, asking where it was from. I told her Vrindavan and her eyes expanded with appreciation. I noticed her tusli mala and asked if it was from Pandharpur. She was surprised, "How did you know?" We switched to Hindi and she, myself, and the handsome Rajasthani immigration man at the next booth enjoyed a few minutes of laughter and satsang. What other country can give such a welcome?

The taxi hassles and traffic coming from the airport even at 1:30 AM made me question again what I'm doing here. I managed to sleep well somehow. This morning waking up and looking out the window at the dirt and noise of Andheri that feeling of being out of place persisted. Why the fuck would I come here? And yet silence and peace keep popping through my disturbed mind. I recognize the voice of this silence and peace, it is Mother India telling me to give up my imaginations of the past; that is the entry price to the India that I love, the India that is an interdimensional portal where this incarnation dissolves like a raindrop into a vast, still lake of being. I accept the invitation to stop trying to solve all the problems of the universe and let the river take me deeper into Here. Bliss, breath by breath.... Jai Hind