back to basics : ricebag in india

wow.

hello lovers.

been busy busy since my rant against racism ... which i wrote at changi airport on my way out of singapore, leaving bear and brad and sun and shops and even zara - all for an indian odyssey

and now i write to you from delhi. from a conference. with 185 young leaders from 33 of the 50 something commonwealth countires. wow. you never saw so much potential and passion and smarts and desire and ambition in one room. and then there is me.

so made fast friends with my pacific crew and the carribean mobs and alla that and having beers on a sunken rooftop in little kabul with a blasted swimming pool and kingfisher beers ... cool delhi nights and warm delhi days ... its been a time of contrasts and the real part of the trip hasn't even begun yet - tomorrow we all leave each other for other indian rural and urban an distant places and am looking so very forward

for me, it was a bit of a funny feeling. returning. i got back and paharganj found me and how did i feel? i think i was wrong when i said "i am indian" - and please understand this is a tough admission for me to make.

i am not indian. i am ricebag. i am ricebag. i am ricebag. i am ME. i am not the romanticised perfect past of me. i am ME. over here. over there. over everywhere.

so i think i must be maturing. coz i just don't know how i got to be not indian anymore. and to be me instead. when in india. just like when without.

so i am sad. because the indian in me died in its sleep. but i am glad because out of the shadows is coming the person i am when noone else is looking.

love from delhi