Smitten by India

I have been charmed by India. The more I research this vast offering of many cultures, religions, and types of people, the more enamored I become. A dazzling feast for the senses, India is so sensual and unrestrained, accepting and wild. Full of contrasts and contradictions. Over 50 centuries of fascinating history, this land rich in resources and people led to the growth of many luxurious palaces, pleasure gardens and massive forts. Also a spiritual land from which the religions of Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, Hinduism grew out of. India seems to speak to a part of me that is finding its way into the light, a part that seeks only passion and unbridled experience.

I had first felt the pull to discover India a few years ago when I read the book Shantaram. And nowadays since I have started practicing yoga in earnest again my fascination is spurred on further. As for the women, I've never had an Indian girl catch my earnest interest until yesterday. Perhaps it has to do with the exposure of my mind to Indian heritage. There have been many many women in Sydney that look quite dazzling but lack the inner radiance and charm. And lately I have been increasingly attuned to an inner quality that is distinctly feminine in its strength and softness. Both in one. It is intoxicating and can be deadly to a male. I have read that men are like fire and women like water. Fire is strong and forceful and urgent but ultimately water in its languid and soothing way ultimately conquers fire. It is rare that I find upon first impression this quality in a woman and much rarer in an Indian girl. But yesterday amongst the oriental women in the Japanese restaurant that I ate at in The Galleria above Town Hall station, stood this simple Indian girl that was at once intelligent in her liquid gaze, vulnerable, authentic, unapologetic to happen to be by herself in a line for a Japanese restaurant and unassuming in her attire - a catching blue tight blouse with a flowing skirt and her long hair pulled back. Her simple appearance did not hide her beauty to me. I was constantly drawn to her movement and her very expressive features, especially her eyes. When I left the restaurant I walked towards her seat and I took her in visually, I knew she sensed my gaze for as I was almost upon she smiled and drew her gaze to meet mine briefly in that coquettish manner only a woman can manage. It was a moment of such honest open expression, my body passed her but it seemed my heart was no longer in it.

After the restaurant I walk into the bookstore and seek out a travel pictorial on India. I have this desire to see more of what India has to offer the traveler. I find a book that is deeply penetrating in its commentary and breathtaking in imagery. There are several pictures of people in the book and I am stunned by the beauty of some of the peasant girls; in my opinion some of these girls are more appealing that anything I've seen from Bollywood. My eyes seem to have been opened, my world has already grown larger and I haven't even set foot on Indian soil yet.

For the rest of the evening I find my thoughts straying to the girl I passed by. It is not often that I find myself preoccupied with another, there is a feeling of regret typical of a missed opportunity. What if the moment called for action? Nay, I declare that I am a creator. I will recreate her then. I make this my background mantra until I sleep.