i'm homesick
the smell of a shirt. i had to keep on sniffing it, i couldn't get enough of it. then 3 stumps, wickets, and yells of howzzat! yells of "piche nahi": hindi spoken in a park. i started to speak in an indian accent, slipping into it unintentionally, then purposefully, and i realized i'm homesick for india. it's funny to say i'm homesick for a place i don't even live. but i miss it. i even miss bombay with it's continuous smell of burning garbage and open sewers. i miss the throngs of people in the street. i miss the way that i can taste the wind on my tongue when i sit with my feet up against the ledge. the way it just smells right in surat. an indescribable smell, exhaust, vegetation, cooking, sweat, distant sea breeze. i miss the fresh food, the normal sized fruits and vegetables, the lack of processed food; good, decently healthy fast food. the water from matlas, clay pots. the slight earthy taste to the water. the perfect temperature of it, due to the clay. waking up every morning to garam cha, and bisquits, and khakhra, and bhakri, a mid morning taropo break, indian food at every meal, but it's impossible to get tired of it, because each day it's different, each day new vegetables are bought and cooked, all fresh, all delicious. it's freshness is proven by the occasional worms that come out in the cleaning, ir. the distant drone of the motorcyles, the put put of the rikshaws, the whirring of the cars and scooters, and horns of all sorts. at night, the noises stop, save an occasional bike, or car, maybe a few rikshaws, but always the familiar sound of the watchman with his metal stick walking up and down, whack whack. dogs barking, fights late at night, over food, or the lack thereof. sleeping with the windows wide open, a cool breeze wafting through. oh, i miss it. i miss it. i'm getting it in december. i need my fix of india before it's too late, and i forget altogether what it's like.