To come back to Delhi after Rishikesh wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but that sort of immediate nostalgia for the Ganga and the mountains was quickly diminished by a very basic factor. Partying.
You see, my couchsurfer guy and a cool bunch of his housemates and friends were a part of Delhi’s party scene, so I, too, received some privileges by simply having chosen nice people to stay with. Therefore, for a couple of nights I had a chance to do some dancing and to see that not even in India one can escape dubstep. Luckily, it was quality dubstep, so I was more than satisfied with it and those free drinks I got.
Interestingly, I associate New Delhi neither with its Lotus Temple, the India Gate monument, nor its wonderfully cheap markets. For me, Delhi was a place where I met some nice folks, used a refreshingly convenient metro, and – how embarrassing, I almost forgot! – even participated in a Persian New Year celebration! It’s an interesting mental image for any city to have, and, well, it is my image with its not-necessarily-Indian elements.
Before I finish my India series, there is one more thing New Delhi reminds me of. It also relates to my previous post about that fabric in life and certain moments that get stuck in our memory.
If I rewind my last week in Thailand and my whole India trip in my head, this mental tape unavoidably stops at certain points.
There is a late morning in Bangkok, when my couchsurfer friend is playing his guitar and we are both singing ‘High And Dry’ and ‘Falling Slowly’ (this is where I recommend ‘The Swell Season’ to everybody).
There is an afternoon in Rishikesh, where my travel companion and I are lying in our beds, elegantly eating a beautifully divided papaya with spoons while talking about…drugs (if someone filmed and muted our conversation, everything would seem so innocent).
There is a late evening in Delhi, when my newly discovered friend was playing a proper violent video game, sound off, while listening to reggae. Violent games make people violent? What if you balance it with some love-preaching tunes?
Lastly, there is an early morning in Varanasi, where – If I had to guess the age – a nine-year old kid rowed a boat right by me and my hostel mates. The first thought that inevitably crossed my mind and stayed there till this day was this: some of my Thai students are of the same age.
After a devastating nap in New Delhi airport, I finished my stay in South Asia when my plane finally took off. First it was Moscow, then – a quick flight to Riga. I couldn’t believe I was back in the Baltic States, not even when my sandals hit the cold Latvian land. On my bus to a close-by city in Lithuania, I was looking through the window as if I was some kind of a tourist (with my sandals and an obvious lack of a winter jacket, I surely looked like one). While observing the grey yet painfully familiar landscape, many thoughts were spinning in my about-to-get-seriously-jet-lagged head. One of them I do remember. It was simply hoping that the mental tape from my months in Asia was all fine. Coz I will definitely want to rewind it while waiting for some other adventures, albeit in my home continent.