It’s something I cannot explain, but I love it. It is not an easy life, yet I want to live it. I will never be one of them and will always be looked at differently. I will always be treated like a visitor, no matter how local I become. People will always say things in front of me expecting me not to understand. And they will ALWAYS stare no matter what I say, wear, or do. I will not make friends because I am in my thirties and have no children and have a husband that lives ten thousand miles away from me. At the end of the day I go to an empty house and spend the evening alone. All for the love of my job and this country I have fallen in love with; there is still no other place I’d rather be.
It has been a long time coming. Other offers had come and gone in the past, but this was the one to take…I had actually come to the conclusion that moving here was going to just be a fantasy, since year after year I was denied by my other half whenever it came to the final decision to make the move. This time was different. Just when I was about to accept that the life I wanted would never be, it happened…and here I am. A new job in a new country, this new place I now call my home now.
I look forward to the many adventures that are ahead of me. My patience will be tested daily. I will get very little sleep in comparison to what I am used to. It will be uncomfortably hot and dirty. I will not get to race as I once did…the one thing that has always given me life. Hopefully there will be something there to help keep that spark within me.
I am here now. This is my home. Welcome to India.
Writing not what she knows, but what she feels. Life is an adventure.
“When writing a novel a writer should create living people; people, not characters. A character is a caricature.”
“Write while the heat is in you. … The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with.”
—Henry David Thoreau