india again

more incomplete glimpses that maybe i should have figured how to tie together before i posted them separately, but oh well.

yesterday i hid from delhi.
i stayed inside like some over-entitled wealthy white person paying
$18.50 for air conditioning and luxury when all i really need to get by
is 6 dollars on pahar ganj.
i went out once.
and dust, tuktuk drivers, incessant honking horns, fruit vendors and children poking me in the breast to ask for money
not to mention 120 degree heat
just didn't tickle my fancy.
sorry great mother india.
sometimes my love for you is unbearable
it hurts my heart, it thrills me and makes every cell in my body smile
and i spend all my time trying to figure out when i can get back to you
and your mountains
and all the sun-withered faces
and other times i hate you.
you make me crazy, feel lonelier than ever
even in your sea of beings
and i wanna' ask for all the arms of kali
so i can scream, plug my ears, give you the finger and
stand weapon in hand and say en guard! all at once.

but its always worth it.
the smells-spices incense shit urine
flavors of dust dirt and bodies
and i am always heartbroken and eager to leave
when i board my lonely flight home. 

india

an incomplete glimpse continued.

i forgot how one of my favorite things was being a passenger in an indian taxi
on the breath of chaos that-for once- isn't mine.

and when i sit on the train to chandigarh
lookin' out the window
the sides of the tracks are saturated
with a colorful confetti of garbage
cows, pigs,
and people chatting over their morning shits.
i can see how thick the air is with
smells, pollution, and
heat that at 6:30am hits you like
-well i don't know-
i want to say 'a ton of bricks'
but that just seems hackneyed at this point-
but its true.
its different-humid.
so unlike the fire-prone-desert-meets-mountain-land
that i come from.
here, you might not remember that the sky is blue,
but you hope it is.  

quick update

i forgot how much i love to be in the passenger seat of an indian taxi or any vehicle in india with an indian driver. thrilling.
being gluten free has gotten old really fast what with all the naan and samosas and various biscuits and momos (tibetan dumplings) at my finger tips.
catching a bug in india at 13,000 feet that has me running to the bathroom for 24 hours and violently wretching into the toilet at 4 in the morning and so uncomfortable that i can't lay down is one of the worst feelings in the world-
and totally worth the view and the noises and the himalayan air.
teaching yoga scares the shit out of me- i feel unworthy of it.
waking up and going to sleep with the sun feels really healthy (surprise!).

this has been such a whirlwind and feels a bit like a dream.
i am taking notes
and photos
and am excited to share.
much love.    

for all the times you tucked me in

i remember when you would crawl into the bottom bunk with me some nights
and you would let me talk to you about
my ten year old woes
and how i couldn't say "i love you" enough
and how "i love you" didn't actually seem enough
and how recently i still wanted to crawl into your lap
more than anything.
and how sometimes when erin crawls into mine
it feels similar and safe
the way it did then.

so thank you for winding up all the music boxes
and letting me play hookey
thank you for letting me sleep in your bed when i was sick
and all the ice cream sundaes.
thank you for the elton john evenings
and sundays where we listened to 'breakfast at tiffany's' on repeat and ate dinner together.
thank you for all the musical instruments that i played to no avail
and always just letting me sing.

if i was there right now
i promise i would sing you a lullaby
in hopes it would be better than buzzing lights
and pain in your knee.

and 'i love you' still doesn't feel like enough.
so thank you for teaching me how to smile.

feel better mama.

your watch brought me comfort this week.
when i was lucky enough to lay my head under the sound of the night hawks
and weary tired blood-shot-from-crying-eyes could finally gaze up through the lace of the ponderosa branches.
i could hear it on my wrist.
tick tick tick.
and remembered that there is life outside of this.
there is comfort other than my solitude in the darkness and the duff
comfort of arms and legs intertwined and smiling lips
and kissing lips.
and laughter.
oh right.

thank you for letting me borrow your watch.
it helped me keep track of myself.

so i pull out the opened aging bottle of port in my closet
i uncork it
and i don't bother getting a glass
and the familiar thought swells up in me again
'its time to go'
this oh-so-familiar feeling-sorry-for-myself-side says
nothing ever goes as planned
smiles fade
laughter stops
lets get outta dodge.

and another-less-familiar-side says
it's okay to slow down
and curiosity can go a long way.

not to mention there is always music playing in the background.

bob dylan sings me to sleep tonight
harmonica and all.

and i think about those words:

"strong women will encourage and awaken the potential
inside of you" he said
"make you wanna be a better man-
an intimidating prospect."

and so i giggle as i crawl into my bed and wait.

is that what is happening here?


my dog is the only male i have to get mad at these days.
and masturbation is a proud and honest fool.