There and back again...

Rajastan, India- Maybe it was the sound of the snake charmers or the way the people effortlessly move through the crowded streets without touching or crashing into eachother. Or maybe it was the feel of the deep and icy water of the Ganges river flowing out of the Himalayas, the icy cold water enfolding me during the daily ritual of Puja. Either way it was true: I had fallen in love with Mother India.

As the memories of my trip-around-the-world continue to blend with the present moment I would dearly love to share this with you, my reader. The snake charmers for instance, greeted me, asking for money of course, on a quiet corner of a busy little town in Rajastan. Notice how the man in the middle gently holds the serpent between his toes, and how ornate and traditional the dress and the instrument. We were there to visit a famous Hanuman temple. Very few foreigners ever get to visit such an obscure but significant place. I will try and recall the many sights and sounds from within the extremely ornate, cacaphonus, and crowded temple, with a labryinth of narrow and ornate corridors, and I will try to recall how hard it was to not get lost in the shuffle, the grime, and getting pushed and pointed at, but I will never forget the imprint on the soul. As the memories come I will gently cast them out to you, my reader, like a fishing lure with dazzling colors of Quetzal feathers and a glitter of gold.