To be born again... again, again

In a few short hours, I will be flying back to India.

It's not like I've never been there before, but this is the first time in over a decade that I've been away from India for so long. Almost a year away. To be honest, if you know India, then to be away for so long changes your language, culture, social mores and intestines in a way that shocks you when you return.

I am going to write about that shock. I am going to write about it despite getting too busy to write about it three days from now when making excuses as to why I will not be writing about it, because we aspiring bloggers habitually start and stop blogs mid-thought. But the thing is... I have started.

And the thing is... in two days I will be in the middle of the Ganges, in the middle where three rivers meet at one of the largest gatherings of humanity, the kumbh mela.

Will that be a shock?

As my friend says to me, "Leave it. Arrive and then it will all be clear."

As I said, I've been living in India for over a decade. I'm no newbie. I know that once I arrive that everything that made sense before will forever have a nonsensical edge to it. And when I enter that water, a part of me dies in the dipping.

And that is a good thing.