There's something about India that I can't get out of my head. I can't even pinpoint what it is. It's a feeling I've had for years upon years... in fact, it's been so long that I can't even remember when it started.
Whenever I read about India or see pictures or hear about it, my stomach tightens, my cheeks flush, a smile appears on my lips, my wanderer senses kick up, and I suddenly feel like I'm far away from my home.
For some reason, India is calling me.
The littered, crowded streets, filled with cattle, cars, people, bazaars, spices, cats, rats, disease, dogs, families, happiness, love, everything... have beckoned me forth, called to me, told me to come and walk through them. Come home.
The colors, the culture, the religions... everything about it screams at me. It is the most intriguing place in the world to me. I feel as if I've been lassoed around the waist and it is pulling at my center of gravity, pulling me towards it.
What I would give to go there. To immerse myself in everything that India is. To live there. To escape there. To almost disappear there (not in that creepy human trafficking way).
For some reason, India is calling me.
I'm ready to go.
... this post is a little different than my usual posts... but this feeling inside me has not stopped, has not dimmed. there really is something calling me. i don't know if anyone else has ever felt this way about a place. if i had the chance to go there, to pick up everything i own and go there, i would. i wouldn't hesitate. i would work things out when i got there. if only that time would come soon. for now i'll settle for places closer to home... i suppose.
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