In the indigo veil of the fleeting dusk, the song of her rainbow bracelets slipped into forgetfull slumber. Her gentle feet had glided on the yellow earth, enveloped by the greenness of the day. The liquid silk of her dress caressed the blushing dust and light sprinkled off its playful edges. Women were goddesses in this land. it has been said that if you are a true worshiper, you will find blooming lotuses in their iris. Seas and wonders. Stars and suns. Their heart is a temple. On the walls of the temple there's an inscription that reads: "The day will come when you are ready to walk in the steps of kings and elephants. When you are burning to breathe in the flames of a journey that has long simmered in the snow of your soul. A day when the quicksands in his eyes will tell you that you are threading on a dangerous path. And yet your heart will rush forward like a wave of wild horses, diving for air. The blue sands of rivers have flown trough you for eternity and the temple of your heart has been deserted; a temple that sheltered countless pilgrims destined for a place worlds away from you. Now kneel, daughter of this yellow earth, push open the heavy gates of your temple and let the song of your bracelets wake up the prayers. They have laid hidden in the corners for far too long! Take his arms, let your heart melt in the whispers of his silence. He is a true worshiper. Yours. Listen! Can you hear the sound of the blooming lotus in your eyes? Seas and wonders. Stars and suns."
Under the indigo veil of the fleeting dusk, her heart rang awaken by the echo of a silence from another time.
This is the story of a journey that hasn't yet been walked. It is a dream that I have started to weave in my mind and by sharing it with you, by dressing it in words, a piece of it is coming true. Three words are very dear to me: intention, attention and manifestation. This is the path to make happen anything you wish for. So, before all of you, legendary travelers, I am hereby officially stating my intention to go to India. For the past two years, many people from India have crossed my path, and each one has helped me discover a piece of my soul. Somehow I can say that I have experienced a tiny fraction of this country through their eyes. It is somethign that cannot really be explained, it's a feeling, intuition, a sensation of a place where you have never been, yet you know exactly how that place feels. There is a place waiting for me in India. A place where I long to go and a great man that I long to see. Yes, this is a love story but not the kind where you fall in love, but where you rise in love. And not the kind between a man and a woman but between a student and a teacher. You know, there are people that walk into your life with featherlight steps of a thousand-pound elephant. They have traversed the dust of roads that grace the face of the land of lotus flowers. They have been carried on the wings of the sithar's song. They have been fed by the newborn light of the violet dawn. Until one day they stop at your door. You look in their eyes and you melt into pieces of light. They speak no words to you because you already know what they have to tell you. You have met them somewhere inside of you. You hold on to them because you know that if you don't, you will whither away like the lotus flower they have put in your hair. And the drops in their eyes will purify your heart because they are born from the sacred river. And the rough skin of their arms will take you away from all harm because it was forged in the temples of hope. And you will know that these footsteps will echo in you until the day they cross your dusty path again.
There is a place in Bangalore, shaded by the lush green of majestic trees, where painted elephants walk side by side with you and cheeky monkeys are your honored entourage on your morning walk. That is the starting point.
