Rajasthani treading

For 45 minutes my legs had been raised precariously off the ground balanced uncomfortably on a stool as pudgy rats regularly raced across the train station floor. 
The ladies lounge.
This was not Eat Pray Love. 
It was 11.45PM at a rural Rajasthani train station & our train to Varanasi had just been delayed by 6 hours.   
An inconvenience; oh yes, a thrill; definitely.

Its these moments that make for some of the most memorable stories from travel, and the distraction of these temporary set backs have always eased my issues with anxiety.
 
This uninvited companion rarely travels with me, of course he makes an appearance now and then, like on the over-crowded bus ride through an Agra traffic jam earlier in the evening, where I could start to feel beads of sweat running down my forehead and butterflies dancing across my stomach. I could feel the panic rising as we ground to a halt surrounded by loud trucks and vans for what felt like hours.

My reason for travel; the greatly reduced pangs of anxiety that's been oh so familiar for years, replaced by a different feeling, the uneasiness of an unfamiliar country. Waiting unexpectedly at a train station for 6 hours through the night with new friends, not completely understanding what dish you have ordered at a local Dhaba or smiling at a beautiful Rajasthani women who has her eyes demurely covered behind a multicoloured sari.

These moments will always outweigh any challenges traveling will present to you.

A blurry indian rail day filled with Chai and Parle G’s passes and we reach the streets of Varanasi, its dusk; its intoxicating; the sounds of local music mixed with varying horns and the shrill roar of motorcycles. We look over from our rickshaw and see fellow travelers in parallel harem pants and beaded bracelets, what resonates most is the laughter and elation on their faces from the local traffic scene.
We realize our rickshaws are in some kind of race, bumping and scraping together as our drivers quip at each other in their local language.
We grasp each others arms as make shift seat belts and laugh as we bump over small stones and smell exhaust fumes mixed with sweet street desserts.

For me; its the one month a year of my corporate life that I don't need to remember 30 passwords daily, each containing a number a symbol and a secret handshake.
I can forget that I didn't complete that degree, or don't have perfect relationships and just be myself. The closest feeling in the world to being free.