Work in progress

I've been trying for a week to write an update for friends on my life in Delhi. Six months ago when I landed, Indira Gandhi International Airport was shrouded in a thick mist, and now my thoughts are afflicted by the same. The things I know are these:

1)Living in India is deeply humbling. I feel small amidst its people and culture. That which I've learned before coming here feels abstract and foreign. I've crossed over to another world and my old one will never be the same.

2)There is a teeming energy everywhere that defies description, in peoples conversations, in the traffic, in the air. Life is in perpetual motion here, nothing is still.

3)Ancient India and modern India are inseparable. They pull away from eachother but one is nothing without the other - where they meet is a faultline. New forms of creativity are emerging as the ancient morphs into the modern. But there's baggage too.

4)This is a ruthless place, and life is tough for so many. But people don't complain. They just get on with living. I don't want to become immune to the reality of people's lives. I don't want to glorify their struggle either, just admire it, and be thankful for what I have been given.

5)The expat bubble is an occasional comfort, but equally a curse. It must be escaped.

6)There is nowhere I'd rather be right now than India. I feel like I've just begun.