Peace Amongst Chaos

I could feel the hymn of our movements echoing in the sleeping desert. It was the closet to silence that we had come to since arriving in India. My legs dangled outside the train door, just feet above sticks and stones while warm air rushed by as we rushed forward. As the light of the last village we passed disappeared behind us, I closed my eyes and breathed. The air was moist in my throat and tainted with dust; it was freshest that my lungs had been greeted with in a while. The countryside was a welcomed change from the crowded streets and haze of the city.

How did I find myself here? So happy and so content in a place where toilet paper was more uncommon than beef? In the past weeks I had spent traveling through the different states of India, I was blessed with a life that I never dreamt I could have. I found that our routine of buying mangoes from a local vendor and playing cards with Tuk Tuk drivers on the street to be more exciting than any festivals or shows I had ever been to. Amongst the smells of fresh curry wafting with the car engines and cow pies, I inhaled all the scents that the markets had to offer, and appreciated the trips in-between cities when we could stretch out in the clean air.

I had to wonder, why is it that I was bored with my own first world ordinary, but found an underlying peace in the chaos of this third world routine? Was buying coffee as leisure and eating extravagant meals not what I truly wanted? How was it that the dust and and sounds of horns honking and people yelling be what had captured my heart?

I pushed myself up form the dense warm surface of the train floor, my body protesting every little movement. Making my way back to the small cabin where Vince and Derek lay fast asleep, I longed for some rest. The sound of the train making tracks faded into the stillness of the night sky, and I prayed that it would lull me to sleep, even just for a few minutes. The small fans on the ceiling finally kicked back to life, and the beads of sweat on my forehead were slowly blown off my face. The dim light above my head faded as my eyes grew wearier and wearier. I turned onto my side, the plastic bed crinkling as I struggled to find comfort. Slowly, I began to drift off into the dreams of the past few weeks, as the train carried us to Mumbai. I was content, though uncomfortable and hot, because this rickety train was only bringing me closer to more of the peaceful chaos that I had grown to love about India.