Among the first questions of names and formalities, we always get this one: “Why Hindu College? Why India?”
Then I delve into a lame explanation about choosing modules and agreements between NUS and Hindu College, which almost immediately turns any Indian classmate (a.k.a. potential friend) interested in me off.
The truth is, I don’t know. And I’m scared to share this fear of uncertainty or risk with people of a different cultural background. I’m already socially awkward – and letting people who hardly know me into the inner workings of my mind might not be such a good idea after all. Either that or I am just a coward when it comes to knowing people. I don’t ask, I would rather not engage, I can’t come up with interesting questions…not yet anyway. I’m trying though, so haha give me some credit for that.
God, I can’t believe that I’m actually here. I can’t believe that this morning I woke up and had eggs, banana, toast and chapati for breakfast. I can’t believe that the dining hall is constantly the assault of persistent houseflies. That the streets are lined with litter, banana peels, all kinds of shit (cow, monkey, bird, dog, and who knows? Maybe human). That there are open manholes that you should watch out for lest you fall into the drains and sewers. I have to pinch myself when I attend a university level class in a secondary school setting. I blink twice at the chalk and blackboard, the fact that sometimes the class size is too big even for sufficient elbow room, and you constantly bump into the neighbour next door.
So why India?
Some part of me still stereotypes this birthplace of Hinduism and Buddhism and the great Indus Civilisation, the Aryan Race (I could keep going on) as THE place to come to “pray” for my spirituality, “find my soul” and all that jazz. The stereotype of India as the home of truth and enlightenment. But most of me knows that spirituality is what you make of it, and can be found anywhere.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I’m looking to get lost, because for some reason I have this mad idea that it is only when I get lost and experience a full assault on my senses outside of home and my comfort zone that I can finally figure out how to define this comfort zone. How to find my way back home and finally conceptualize this meaning of home. How there is this instant broadening of the mind with every time we travel, how we look past culture clashes and differences; how everyone is different and yet everyone has the same human nature. How behind every person you meet is a story, and through each story you seem to get a better understanding of your own. And I’m hoping so hard that the widely accepted pluralism and myriad of different cultures or ways of life or perspectives here help me in this thirst for everything.
… Okay even I have lost myself there.
It seems self-centred even, that yeah even though I want to meet people to know people, it remains ultimately a journey for myself. But that is the way human nature works – self-interest and self-preservation remains #1. It is what you want. Even sacrifice is what you want, if you would gladly sacrifice your own life in order to save a lover in a street robbery – you will die knowing you saved her life, which makes you happy.
Speaking of love.
Love is what I want, in all the cliches that people write about in novels and dream about in movies. I want to experience the highest of highs and the lowest of all lows, the passion, boredom, acceptance, fights, concession, sacrifice, promise, uncertainty, security, faith. I want to feel like when I wake up tomorrow, I have not a mustard seed (hahaha inside joke) of doubt in my mind of the love that I feel. There is no faith without doubt, and no love without faith. I want to believe in it wholly and grab onto it like my life depends on it, because it does. I want to love like every breath I take in is one the one that I share with her, lie with my mind and body bare like an open book waiting with tingling anticipation to be read from cover to cover. I want to believe and hold this faith knowing that I cannot be broken by it, because love never fails and everything else that comes before it are only pale shadows of the real thing. Is that too much to ask?
Even though I created a travel blog I think I’m going to stick with Your Humble Narrator, because I’ve no idea how to divorce these personal thoughts and reflections from whatever I think about when I travel – they’re all connected. Lucky I neh divulge URL siah, so many half-baked thoughts.
Onto lighter things! In our first three days we have:
1. Met a variety of urban wildlife – cows on the pavement, dogs, monkeys, pigeons, crows.
2. Stepped in a lot of shit, and when I say shit, I mean shit literally and shit figuratively. I have officially stopped wearing my expensive red sneakers around Delhi because a) it is SNEAKERS and the weather here is simply too hot for any covered footwear and b) it is too pretty to be destroyed by shit. Fiona has, on the other hand, bought three pairs of shoes. We deal with shit in different ways haha.
3. Explored the university campus: Talked to our classmates, made some friends superficially, I verbal diarrhoea-ed a little. Getting to know what life is like for a kalej me chatra (student in college) and realizing it’s almost exactly the same as back home. Youth is universal
4. Noticed the generosity of Indians. People who hardly know you, almost complete strangers, and who offer to pay for your lunch, bring you shopping, bring you eating, help you navigate the complicated paperwork and administration involved in the simple act of getting a prepaid SIM card et cetera. Amazing.
5. Living conditions are overrated. I could probably live here, in this constant barrage of dust and dirt and smells.