Gujarat — KJP

Roots and history -- it’s what gives our lives meaning. Whenever I go back to India, I’m overwhelmed with the heat (for one) but also the feeling of connectedness. It’s a home away from home. My parents both grew up in Gujarat and were shaped by the environment, people, and values of the area, thus I am indirectly shaped by it too. The trip gave me an understanding about cycles.

The trip was meant to be a goodbye to my grandfather. Unfortunately he passed away right as I was about to leave. He was a man of few words but you felt the love in his eyes. Thirteen days of intense ceremonies followed his passing - these are customary after someone dies in our culture. I didn’t get to attend these so I can’t share much; I left afterwards so I could spend more quality time with my grandma.

I was greeted at the airport (which is 6 hours away from our house) by five members of my family. This group included an adopted ‘uncle’ who I barely remembered but took me around the town. What I came to realize after meeting several people in town is that I am the embodiment of my dad, who everyone holds dearly in their hearts. Everyone commented I have the same subav - or demeanor - as my dad. When they meet me, they experience the spirit of Jayesh. His soul is cycled through my body. Everyone misses him so much.

The light burns low and steady in India. My grandma wakes up at 5 or 6 every morning and begins moving about the house. Everyone else - my uncle, aunt, cousin Haya, dog Maggie, housekeeper - wakes up gradually. By 11:30 everyone has eaten their main meal of the day. Then my grandma can sit on the couch with her legs up and relax. To go out at all is an investment of energy - the heat drains you. We watch movies, read the paper, and just relax in the zones of our air conditioned home.

Everyone has slowly been moving away from our home in India for twenty or thirty years. My great aunt recounted that our house there used to be full of life - my little uncles and aunts running around - and now it is completely empty and silent. It is sad but the reality is that it is just part of a cycle - people migrate to find better lives.

My biggest adventure in India was going to the Shirdi Saibaba temple. It has lines and crowds crazier than Disneyland. A five hour wait to make your way to the front to touch the feet of the idol, or one hour with a “fastpass.” With the pushing and shoving - you would’ve thought that the apocalypse was happening. Despite the craziness, the temple is in great shape and very clean.

The next time I got to India, I hope to venture out into the northern regions near Kashmir and join a “trecking” group. Doing the Rickshaw run is also my dream - if only my mom would allow it. India is still frightening, but also very raw and colorful. And it’s someplace that needs at least a month. Until next time India!