On our way down the mountain yesterday, Mr. Mundra, Lucy, and I listened to a Niswarth playlist. I carefully balanced my way down the muddy mountainside, stepping over stones and finding the best footholds for my tired feet. The steady rhythm of my footing, as well as the background music, didn’t provide much space for me to hold a long conversation.Read More
During our stay at ESI, I would wake up to this quote every morning: “You can give without loving, but you can’t love without giving.” The quote stood over a little nook in the room I shared with Abigail. The bold, brown printed letters always remained for me to read, as it stood above the red cushions lining the wooden surface of the nook. I remember my heart responding immediately upon first sight.Read More
When I opened my eyes, I saw the hands of Mukeshji resting on his knees. He sat crisscrossed in the dappled sunlight, his head supported by a long pillow propped up horizontally against his wooden chair. The creases in his white clothing rippled as a soft breeze swept past my face. I glanced around, momentarily distracted from my first meditation session at ESI.Read More
As I travel to India from the U.S., I leave a few things behind. The first “thing” that comes to mind, a tangible object, is my cello. It is (I hope) standing in its white case in the basement of the music building. While I sit in a cafe on the other side of the world, the calluses on my left-hand fingers seem to grow softer each letter I type into this blog post.Read More
Hidden beneath a clutter of folded papers and plastic water bottles, my phone vibrated against the desk. One buzz followed another, each sharp note never failing to make me catch my breath. I was next to my desk on the floor, comfortably molded into a red bean bag.
“Hey, can you pass me my phone?”Read More