I’ve been day dreaming a bit about the past… not my relationship past but before that. Before all of this. Back when it was just me and the world. Back when wanderlust called and I answered. Every. Time.
Four years ago it was the trip of a lifetime. My first introduction to Asia (and what an introduction!). When I fell in love, head over heels in love with this great world we live in and the beautiful people that inhabit it. Where I had my heart broken and restored every minute of every day by what I saw there. I saw more than I ever could have photographed (and unfortunately I have lost many of my photographs over the years). I felt more emotion than I had ever felt before. It was here that I grew up. It was here that I woke up. It was here that I stood up and began holding myself accountable for this vast world that we live in. It was here that I began to understand and began to truly question.
It was here that I started traveling with bread and rice and bottles of water in my backpack. Always.
Ludhiana/ At the Pakistani border/ Breaking out of the slum. In a village made of handmade bricks/ Visiting the Dalai Lama/ An old mode of transport in the garden of dreams/Learning the trade: Jaipur/ On Safari/ Ranthambore/ In the Great Mosque/ A new friend: Chandigarh/ In a Tibetan refugee school in the mountains.
India is the place I go back to in my dreams. It is the place I yearn for. The dirt and the damp and the despair. The beauty and the simplicity and the chaos all at once.
Love you beautiful India. We shall meet again.
Where do you go when you dream?