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A Respite
I have no pictures, no daily writing, and very little in the way of material to share from my month-long sojourn in India. Suffice it to say that my purpose was to absorb the familiar and familial. I would find myself at times sitting on a sofa in my cousin’s house and silent for a half-hour just listening to the din around me, pouring my cha from mug to saucer. I felt my two years of solitude deeply, and so I tried to hold tight to the warmth from kith and kin. I rode in rickshaws with my brother, laughed with my sister, listened to my father, and shared chiki with my mother. This mundanity was my nourishment. I felt like a parched man taking a deep draught of cool water.
