It's almost been a year since I've blogged.
But, my heart still lays in India. My eyes want to see what my heart yearns.
I want to see mango trees again. Rickshaw drivers. I want to see my friends dance in colorful attire in circles during Navratri. I want to see colored powder thrown in my face for Holi. I want to see kites flown in Surat once more as the sunset bursts in the sky. I want to see Camels on the street again. I want to see the back waters of Kerala. The great Himalayas and live in Dharamsala. I want to see the Taj Mahal and the sun rising in Jailsamer; the golden city.
After all this time. I still miss it. Because here I am, stuck in the conformity of this consumer wasteland that is the American dream. The vicious cycle that everybody, at one point in there life has realized, but have chosen to ignore. Getting into debt at a young age, then going to school, finding a job to pay off that debt, then the mortgage, then the car, then you have kids, and they go through the same thing.
Is it a crime if I want to live?
Break free and fly.
Boundless to find the possibilities that can be my life.
I can almost grace the thin line between my reality and dream. It's tangible.
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