Delhi - Nov 5, 2009 - Delhi, Delhi, India

Landing in Delhi is like coming home. Perhaps I have in a former life spent more time here than I’ll ever be able to understand. Perhaps it is just that smell. That mix of odors and zests you would never think you’d inhale all at once. The smell of car fumes, cardamom, cow dung, turmeric, garlic, fried oil, marigold, trash piles, incense, masala spices and perfumes. A smell that lingers and soothes in the general cacophony of honking auto drivers, these motorcycle rickshaws that sway dangerously in curves and find their way even through the narrowest of alleyways. The thick traffic with large expensive cars that offer privacy and comfort amidst polluted streets and highways mixing in with rickety trucks arriving from UP and the surrounding states with immense packages overflowing at the back; shady buses and minivans and open trucks with long-distance travelers from agriculture areas with their faces covered to protect themselves from sun and fumes, sleeping peacefully amongst boxes and carts or sitting on the trucks’ roofs, legs crisscrossed, eyes looking somewhere at the distance. The cows munching peacefully in the middle of the road on a grass straw they have found in the dust. The markets and their dairy sellers, cigarette and pan stalls, coffee shop chains, air-conditioned bars and clubs and vegetarian restaurants. Dal Mahkani, paneer tikka, roti and parathas late at night; dosas with coconut chutney and sweat teas and coffees at my friends’ house.

Mother of the house feels like a second mother, my Indian family where I always feel welcome. Through her South Indian cooking, I travel back to a land of secure and delicious taste. The oldest sister is here from the US with her baby, the most beautiful baby boy I have ever lay my eyes on. The warmth emanating from the three sisters, their parents and the baby would make anyone feel privileged to be amongst them. So it is also for me. They remind me of what is important in life. The friends and family members you cherish and love as you ought to because time will pass and change in the general flow of things and one year quickly leaves another one behind.

I am overjoyed to be here. The atmosphere, the climate, the food and the colors are what I love the most and feel the most comfortable with. Everything is inspiration for my next book. But at the same time, my heart aches from being too far away from the man I love, away from family and friends that I have just parted from. India reminds me once again that what you will never get again is the warmth in smiling moments. To appreciate and truly value every gift of true affection and love that is offered because there is enough harshness around.

Tonight it is the wedding reception of an acquaintance of me, a friend of my close friend and her brother. They are having a joint ceremony that promises bright sahris, rustling lenghas, flower garlands and jingling bells and jewelry. I have had two sahris and a lengha made for my good friend’s wedding that will take place in a month’s time here in Delhi but for tonight I will just observe and delight at the general beauty and explosive colors and glitter. I went to my acquaintance’s mehndi party the other day and so my hand at least is intricately decorated with deep red henna ornaments.

Till next time, much love.