The colours, vibrancy, moods and diversity of India makes me love her with passionate obsession of a lover whose very life depends on the fervent expression of his love to his beloved, in many ways, physically, emotionally spiritually. As if he were lost and totally given to the passion burning in his heart and soul, his groins and his brain.
I often wonder, why I choose to be born in India and not in England? Why in
Yet, it gives me pride to say, I am Indian. And my thirst is quenched, when her earth is drenched with the torrential rain of the monsoon. These waters from the sky have another message of love for me. Like gallons of pouring emotions forever falling over parched and hungry body of desire. That is why perhaps they say, it never rains, but it pours.
So let it rain over my longing to have been on this part of the earth. This land of diversity, its peoples and its cultures, its many languages and religions which come together in a medley of all that I can ever want. And so it has been my tryst with life in
Zorba, the Buddha, a better way to mean what I stand for today – deeply entrenched in the many colours, vibrancy, moods and diversity of India and at the same time, totally detached to it too, in a spiritual way.
And now I know why I chose
I love the contrast, the black and white, the colour and the lack of it, the materialistic and the spiritual, the complete opposites, all in one place. It’s so enchanting, so captivating, so engrossing, this, my India.
Like a woman’s bosom, the more you nestle against it, the more she sucks you in.
More pictures: http://picasaweb.google.co.in/juliadutta/NovemberInShimla#