“Words,” Rahmat says every time I squeak with joy or whine in sorrow- “I need words!”

My class in school has 34 people from 18 countries. It is the most diverse environment I have ever been in, and makes for very good staring points for conversation. Chilling out over lunch one of those terribly busy days, I realized from across a table of 7 that every one of us had had a direct experience with a terrorist attack. Each one was either around when it happened, or had a sister who missed the train that was bombed, or was close enough to hear the shots. What does this mean?! Can terrorism be universal? Or shocking still - unifying?

If I thought I had a cumbersome and lonely childhood, God’s making up for it now - BIG time. Thanks mate.

I miss Shilpy. Now that I look back, I realize she was a silent force in my Mumbai life- soaked in all that came in her way, rarely complaining. In times throughout my application madness, mood swings and inability to talk about anything else, she fed me, asked about my progress, and did not complain of the alarm or the light. Not once. How does one sustain that? It takes deep strength of character to get where she is, clean or not. And I feel now that I did not get to thank her for it all – I almost feel ungrateful, insufficient. I’m getting my chance :)

The time has come. I knew it was inevitable – to revisit every opinion, reconsider every direction of thought – to change my mind – in the context of a revised time, location and environment. What is my fundamental character? What am I building on? What ‘Indianness’ must I carry on, or choose to leave behind? Which is a better way, which is more logical? Are we really living in a globalized world? Has the beauty of travel been lost or will it stand its ground? Should I just do what I feel? Feel, and Do? Two very powerful words.