So I bought a 2009 Royal Enfield near Karol Bagh in Delhi. There is a street with all sorts of motorbikes lined up and ready to test drive. 3 of my most memorable shopping days. Fact.

First day on the Enfield: It took a couple hours to get outside of Delhi. We had planned it perfectly to leave just as rush hour hit, so we road until Panipat. We found a reasonable room which also doubled as a mosquito factory, where we spent most of the night either throwing Allan's shorts at the bastards, or practicing the important skill of towel whipping. I would like to tell you that when we woke their wasn't a single new mozzy bite, I really would. Unfortunately in the morning when I went to get the bike at the 24 hour secured parking lot, I found the bike moved from where I had left it and a few indications of maltreatment. The day had begun on a seemingly bad start, but I didn't feel too bad once I found out it was only 50 rupees to weld the luggage rack back on. I felt much more comfortable with Allan and all the gear the second day of riding to Chandigarh, especially with only a fraction of the traffic experienced the previous day. Chandigarh is the capital of Haryana and Punjab, wealthy, following a grid system (this is new to me), green, and arguably quite clean. Clean for the India I have seen thus far.

Our first tour stop was the Rock Gardens built by some guy with a lot of spare time and a very lonely wife. Being the only ones with white skin seemed to draw a lot of attention. First someone comes to ask for a photo, and once the first person has done it everyone else feels quite comfortable asking. I began to keep track by taking photos of those taking photos of us, and have counted 13 in a span of 1 hour. I had to explain all this for you to understand this photo. It was after a rush of about 8 people asking for family photos. 

I made a deal with his mother, and will visit the child every other weekend.

Like clockwork

Oh Delhi. Here I sit on the floor of a very skinny hallway and not a fan in sight. I wait in this tiny crag because of certain wants not being met. The whole thing is a lot more complicated than I could have imagined. It’s an antique clock I bought on impulse in a shop down south, and I’m not certain as to how hard I should turn the crank or what I can do to make it work without explosion. So what do I do? Out of curiosity one must play with the clock a little bit, test its limits and see what bends which way. It chimes an off key chord, something sounds like it snapped. Well, shit.

Once again I haven’t slept for quite some time; it’s 9 in the morning. Allan and I just got back from a quick stroll after seeing Danielle and Jessica off. It’s really a sad day for me. A couple days earlier Hamid left our presence as well, we may meet up again in a couple of weeks. I have been removed from a comfortable situation and must learn to rid these feelings, one area of life I hope to mature during my trip. I feel like a part of me is missing now, and have begun to plan (which I haven’t done for 3 weeks) what I can do to stay busy. A couple museums, gym, cinema, swimming pool, and long walks will be the first on the list. Most things happen or begin for me whilst walking, so I’m going to do what works. Buying the Enfield (oh and I might buy a motorbike) will open up a lot of opportunities, along the lines of more challenges and more freedom (is more freedom possible?). Is this what I really want to do now, all of these things? Right now I’d rather  my friends came back together, but I must not forget one of the most important lessons vipassanna taught me, anicca: everything is impermanent.

The boys.

I’m now aware of the qualities I find attractive in a woman. In fact, many of the things I thought were important really are the exact opposite. Mannerisms I don’t understand rather than ones I feel comfortable with make me much more curious, much more willing to try if they are practiced genuinely and with good will. A woman lacking confidence is only a girl; when her actions are synonymous with her thoughts and her speech: total sploosh.

No more henna, I promise. Maybe.

Super Flexible

Without truth, what do you really have? Well obviously, a lie. The truth always slips out one way or another. Whether it be through an elaborate ploy to outwit an experienced “fibber” or if the body responds appropriately. Such fine design surely deserves some sort of respect, no? Respect perhaps from the student, who really doesn’t know the effect of learning the trade, or respect from another who has reached a managerial stage with a secondary route. Morally speaking, one could argue quite easily that if the questions were not asked directly, why answer the indirect? Pushing the thoughts of others away from a certain question requires a special trait that allows for the debatable idea of moral flexibility. Taking all this into consideration, one comes up with the point of what is and what isn’t fair. One may feel extreme discomfort if most any creature is poorly treated. PETA plays on these emotions of people well, they realize what power they can have on their donors. Is this fair to play on the hearts of those who clearly miss the point? To be too afraid to speak the truth, because of a cognitive dissonance, or an ulterior motive? I'm beginning to ask such questions, unbiased visions on one’s thoughts and views, friends and family, and many experiences from past, present, and future. What can I do to learn more? Maybe I need to step it up.

Practicing gang signs

To form our new gang, we needed to create an initiation. Of course. We all had henna tattooed on our faces, walked around Varanasi, went to museums, and practiced our "crazy" faces. We didn't have to try hard.