India - As I See Her
This essay won a special prize at a competition organized by the Indian Embassy of Hungary for celebrating the 60th anniversary of India’s independence.
India - As I See Her
Pushed aside in the airbus aisle near the toilets, hit on my behind by an unbecoming gentleman from Punjab. I thought, it can only get better than this. Never in my life had I imagined that this trip would take place. What is more, I would have kicked the idea out of my mind as fast as it came. There I was, and not so sure of myself anymore.
The reason I was heading to India was uncommon by anyone’s standards, not one that my family understood or supported – I was going to get married. Furthermore, that too to a man I had never known, except through telephone cables from the „vicinity” of 6700 kilometers; a distance we covered every night for 4 entire months. It seemed an eternity. An eternity it was that I gained from patient waiting and praying.
In India, it is believed that all marriages are arranged by God himself. I would go further: „Everything is arranged by God himself.” So it was my destiny to move to a country that became a lot more than a place to visit. It gave me back my identity.
A travel a million times longer than an 8 hour flight. It was a travel back to eternity.
I have always been a traveller constantly itching to move on to the next place, explore new worlds. Deep inside, like a true Hungarian, I yearned to return home. Eventually, I always have.
I arrived in India with my Bible in my luggage, the book I never left at home. Not by habit or custom, but because I held onto the idea of belonging to a group (I was Baptist at the time), friends and relatives, all of them sharing the same experiences and turning to the same source when life had its turmoils. I was ready to face anything. Except for the above mentioned gentleman and my fellow married passenger who constantly kept begging me to hold his hand, telling me he was into palmistry.
The lights I saw from the window of the plane were enchanting. Delhi was bigger than I imagined or I could possibly understand. Flashy lights, smoke ascending from the city, vibrating heat, all ready for Diwali. Who would not fall for the trick? It was enduring and seductive. On the plane, I promised Delhi that I would love her. And yet again, like a true Hungarian, I did not always keep my word.
It was first the heat, then the smell that turned me into a traitor. The airport was anything but welcoming. It was too large to cover with my tired eyes. I was searching for my fiancé, but there were too many hats and sarees flinging around, hands waving and mouths shouting, women crying and children screaming. My fellow passenger still hot on my heels. I was scared to death but my hands kept pushing the trolley that carried my suitcase - my whole life packed inside. It was heavier than the Himalayas.
There he was, reassuring and supportive, and finally I was safe. He had promised it and that night on our way home from the airport it came true: I saw an elephant. She was floating alongside the road - majestic and peaceful. It may have been the fancy of my imagination, but I am sure she waved back to me. There I was: home in India.
The sweetness and smoothness of that elephant accompanied me in everything I experienced thereafter. Calm and humble have I become since. A woman. A real woman who is treated gently and with respect. An alien yet a family member. I felt I became a creation of God. A real creation that could be formed and shaped, made better and brighter. Diwali was coming. We were waiting for Shree Ram. I wish I had known of him before, I thought. People await him so eagerly, they must know who he is. They must have encountered him before to love him in such an endearing way. „Wait a minute! God comes to town?” I wondered secretly to myself. Never did I want to hurt my fiancé by saying, „It can’t be real! Do you not know God is not material?” With lights of oil lamps glazing in his eyes, my husband and I were standing on the roof waiting. I thought „This is it, we will see Ram first if he comes, because he will, no?”
Shree Ram did come. Slowly but steadily he crawled into my mind and my heart. The devotion of my neighbours, the shopkeepers, children and beggars, and first and foremost that of my husband’s, oscillated me around in the ocean of two faiths. While I was arguing and pointing fingers at the new culture I had become a guest of, people’s silence spoke louder than words. I slowed down. I became colourful. The flowers and sweets, ether and agarbatti, were all alluring. These people had something that I did not. I wanted to possess the wisdom that caused so much happiness, even when someone died. What did they know that I did not, which made them so happy?
The dual nature of life in India has followed me ever since.
“Mera Bharat Mahan”
