It's the spirit of India that wriggles right under your skin, frolics with your senses and then nestles in there for the long run, refusing to budge. A spirit that is alive, bold, strong, creative, colourful, loving, determined, thankful and living in every single one of India's extraordinary inhabitants, permeating ever aspect of their lives.
From the ceremony of the Ganges to the docile Keralan backwaters, from the rubble of Hampi's lost world to the adventure playgrounds of the Himalayans, I have unlocked and delved into a culture so formidable and incomparable to my own. And yes, at times, it was arduous and frightening and the biggest challenge I have ever faced but mainly it was wonderful and fruitful and meaningful.
I'd like to share my grandfather's final thoughts as he left India, as he was my whole reason for this journey. He wrote:
"I was absorbed and totally fascinated with a subcontinent which seemed to defy the realism of nature. Where millions survived dad by day, often when there was no sign or obvious provision that they should.
"It was clear to me that an important and influential part of my life was now over. I had grown up a great deal during my time in India, having seen and experienced many things I had not previously encountered, nor would I ever have encountered in my own home environment. I knew that I would miss India very much."
With my head giddy with these reflections and memories of my Grandfather's tales of India, I arrived in Sri Lanka: my next travel destination. And there at the airport was the familiar, beaming face of my Dad, who was to join me on the backpacking trail for the next 2 weeks.
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