Doors of India: Part 1

I stared out the window tirelessly, while bracing myself, on our 5 hour tumultous trek to Agra and then 3 more, on to Farukhabad. Though it would seem monotonous, I was mezmerized and found myself fighting to keep my eyes opened as every time they would suggest anything longer than a blink, voices would jar me alert pointing out some incomprehensible scene or sight. Miles and miles flew by of face after empty face, weary from the struggle to survive. I was in awe of the constant stream of villages, half clothed children, water buffalo, horse carts, auto-rickshaws, TATA trucks, white cows, pigs, and the occassional monkey, camel and elephant that would capture my attention like a trance. Along with the sights were the sounds of endless car, bike, motorcylce, bus, and truck horns screaming to announce their intention to be first in the speedway race that is Indian roadways. If I thought long enough, I would be utterly overwhelmed that MAYBE 10 minutes out of every hour saw a reprieve in dusty, dirty, garbage laden, animal dung-dotted, bustling village streets to allow for some green pasture land and slightly smoother roads. What truly haunted me though, was the blank stares and weathered faces of every person over school age that we passed. I peered into their lives for a split second and all the while, in the back of my mind, I knew where I would lay my head in just 10 more days. I knew what my warm shower and hot coffee would taste like and what I would wear and how I would get to work. I knew I had a job and paycheck at that very moment paying my next months desires. But what about that slum kid at my window holding up American magazines, one with a picture of Cameron Diaz on the cover, as he pointed from the picture to me and back, a prompting grin on his face. I did not buy his magazine. Will he eat tonight?


This is just one of the doors the Lord opened up while in India. There were many more. Stay tuned...