write

But when you write, and especially when you write to no one at all but everyone in the world, you get this amazing, unique chance to express yourself and your thoughts, entirely shed of defense. You get to just talk to whomever will listen and those who listen get to listen invisibly. They get to hear your voice without having to respond right away- or ever. But those words have now pierced their balloon of perceptions. They have skedaddled their way from scattered words on the scrabble board to meaningful epiphanies in the minds of people who matter- and sometimes those who didn’t matter at all.

choo choo

train ride from karnataka to andhra pradesh

ab-solve

But do we always ask for the help that we undoubtedly need but cannot find solutions to? Is it our responsibility as human beings to seek out health and happiness for ourselves? Is it our responsibility to seek it out for others if we deem they are unable to find it on their own? When do morals, respect and pride give way in light of our presumptuous answers to happiness?

comfort

I arrived in Hyderabad on Wednesday October 28th in the dead of the night. The streets were paved and empty, clean as if never been used, silent like the calm before a storm. Through my haze of blurred travel-vision I peered out at my new home and thought, “Well, this seems like an appropriately timed unexpected answer to my question: Where am I going?” I had envisioned dust in the air, fumes from the burnt garbage seeping through the air vents, people tapping on my shoulder selling me unnecessary items like bouncy balls and whistles. I had envisioned the hectic, uncontrollable, absurdly comical and lovable world of India that I had remembered from 3 years past.

india

Which India is the real India? Which India is going to be my India. Which India will I let into my heart, sweep me off my feet, and dance all night with? Which India will choose me, take my hand, guide me through the crowded streets, and force me to get lost in her imperfect perfection?

moth smoke

Although I had no need for the merchandise he offered, I felt as a moth, sucked in to the iridescent flame that encircles the poor, tentatively touching the flame at will and when I felt the burn would leave the deepest impact. This, feeding a child for a day, buying a book that I did not need, was not the impact I was looking to make, but why? Why had I drawn a line and decided that if I were to make impact, it had to be lasting, deep, and empowering? Where had I lost sight of the end-all-be-all game plan to help those in need?

alone

Loneliness is like waking up in the deep, encompassing darkness of a cave. It’s the first moment your eyes tell your mind what blackness is. It’s the millisecond of time you feel your pupils dilate, attempting to adjust to an unfamiliar endless hole of space. It’s the questions that invade your mind in hopes to grab hold of something tangible, comfortable, understandable. It’s the painful, confusing, frustrating noise of nothingness.

soul

I never planned for this. I never saw it coming. I could have gone an infinite number of days, months and years, living in my corner, treating the world as if they were expendable. But what is real, what is honest, is that I’ve lied. I’ve lied to myself to be happy, I’ve lied to my home to be safe, I’ve lied to my world to be free.