I started my way back to England from the beautiful embrace of red earth and Jungle. Misty mornings. Fiery Moons. Mantra air. Enticing hills and whispered breeze.
Soon I was traveling along a now familiar road to Vizag where it turns from country warmth into city melee all in a moment so brief it startles. Like the seam joining two fabrics so different.
A train awaits me and thousands of others. The train stations alone are an experience of the senses. Collage of rituals, emotions, smells, sounds and colors all wrapped around the dark skin and soulful eyes of India.
I was going to spend the next 12 hours or so riding the sleeper train. I find this such an immersion into the lives here and I welcome it. Every uncomfortable moment as well the adventurous spark.
The train ride was smooth except the man trying to cheat me out of a lot of money for a tiny amount of food. I track him down, he smiles and returns my change and I shake hands with him. It was a moment of human connection an apology from us both for the situation life can put us in and the choices we make.
I find a Rikshaw ( 3 wheeler with a motorcycle engine ) and take off for the Chennai Airport at 4 am. My flight is not until 8:45 pm so the day awaits with a long sigh of a hot sun to come. Not a bad thing.
The numerous soldiers guarding the Airport refuse me entry until 6pm.. Thank God for books I think to myself and become engrossed in two and finish them both.
I have some money but a feeling keeps prompting me to hang onto it... so I do.
A protest of some sort erupts and lots of chanting slogans, suddenly animated soldiers and a separation of two large groups ensues.. I just watch from my chosen spot and then return to the pages of print. I feel to doze off and maybe for a moment or two I do but hunger grabs at me and the strong taste of tobacco in my mouth.
6pm comes around and I am allowed inside... now the fun starts. I approach the check-in desks and inquire about my ticket, it has been changed due to me leaving earlier than planned. No charges we were told when the change was made.
At this point I should mention that the journey to England had been booked, the flight change and then my ticket from London Gatwick to Sheffield where my brother Dimitri was going to be waiting. I had just enough money for something to eat, Rikshaw rides to the Train Station and then the Airport. Also $20 to change into English pounds at London so I could get some Breakfast.
Ok, back to the Airport... they insist that I have to pay money for the ticket change. I argue with all the pent up weariness from book reading under the sun and with the dust. They refuse to listen and just continue to stare at me. I don't have enough Rupees to pay. I remember the $20 and go change it.. I have just enough with a little change left over.. at least I have my train ticket waiting for me in London I think to myself... phew.
Then I begin to feel the sensation of being stripped ( no, my clothes were not being removed ).
Hang on.. I see that I am landing at Heathrow airport and not Gatwick.. Shit! It's too late to do anything about it and now I just want to get on the plane and take it from there. I never felt panic, just a surrender to everything.
So the flights go very smooth and now I am touching down in Heathrow.
I find myself staring at a continuous stream of baggage and still mine does not appear.. minutes go by.. 30.. 40 an hour passes and then it appears. All the thoughts melt away about it being lost or taken by mistake.. I had surrendered again but all was well. The stripping sensation continues.
I find a money exchange and hand over my few rupees. The man laughs and tells me it's not worth it. I would be left with 2 pounds English. I ask him to please change it.. that 2 pounds would be all my money and I needed to call Dimitri and tell him I'm stranded at Heathrow.
I call, his number is in the back of my passport which I rest on top of the phone as I dial. I get through and tell him. It will take him about 4 hours to get to me.. damn I wish I had another book to read.
I set off, hungry and tired heading for customs. I feel it immediately. The man's energy rises as I walk by, he clocks me, zeros in and follows.
" Excuse me sir. Where have you come from? Do you live in India?"
The questions continue and I just reply, no nerves, I'm so tired. He lets me go, his energy subsides and feels satisfied that I am not worth hunting anymore.. a prey that could not feed his first instinct, the hunger for an arrest.
As I enter the main terminal I then make the terrible discovery... where the f@*k is my passport?
It is gone.. I get played about by the people working there but finally I get to go back and check the only place I could think of, the phone booth. It's nowhere to be found.
I report it. I go outside. Roll a cigarette, offer some tobacco to the spirits. Then the sensation of being stripped is complete. I am naked. Everything has been taken from me in that final moment and I ask "why?"
When we find ourselves stripped naked, the world seeming to be becoming faint. When everything falls away as we try and reach for it, like crumbling banks to a river we are in the current of.
The presence of that heart enters and they anchor us once more.I pray my heart is such a gift for all who know me. That when enveloped and dragged under or into a drowning spiral, people will know inside that I will give everything to reach in and hold them.
Dimitri walked up to me, looked at his brother and we embraced... such is the gift of someone's love.
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