On the flight home, I began to realize I was already missing India. On the one hand, I was relieved to be leaving the certain craziness that is Delhi. But I wonder if I was missing that specific quality, that combination of hectic, spiritual, beautiful, spiced and welcoming that is uniquely Indian.

I had grown fond of the constant beeping of the traffic. Indian drivers beep just in case they might need to beep, in constant dialogue with the other cars around them. I was told, and subsequently noticed, that Indian drivers do not use rear view mirrors. It’s as if going forward is all that is important. India is indeed moving forward as a culture, but is also being weighed down by a past that has significant gravitas.

I’m already missing the tastes of Indian cuisine, and how my lips were perpetually chapped because of the hot spices. Like their culture, Indian food is a broad array of experiences that are hard to individuate. India is little bowls of experience that you dip in and out of with your bread and fingers. You can’t exactly explain why you like what you are tasting; but you do.

I miss the chaos of the streets. People walking, bicycles, motorbikes, cows, dogs, autos, carts of all sizes and shapes with all manner and amount of cargo (sometimes piled trepidatiously high) being pulled by men or animals — -all darting around any given road. I miss seeing cows so happy walking in the middle of a street, dogs wandering in and out the chaos with ease. Maybe, strangely, I miss the uncomfortableness the streets made me feel — what is that feeling?

It will take me some time to understand my attraction to India. It helps me to draw what I saw, and here are some of the drawings I did while in India.