I’m in gate 17 at Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi. My forehead is still red from those colors people threw at me during Holi, one of the best celebrations I have ever been to. We danced all afternoon to the sound of dhol and the “Pani sunny” hit, and we were smiling all the time with our teeth full of green and fuchsia powder. But from time to time, I got to think about my last night in India (which is today) and the feeling could erase the smile from my face.
I really don’t feel like traveling for 30 hours, with all the waiting, layovers, flights and boredom to finally reach Medellin. I wish I could change my destination, and take a flight straight to somewhere different, and meet someone in an airport, and feel as great as I did in August last year when everything was magical. But I have to go back to my reality because India is a break from real life. And even if Colombia has amazing things, there are certain memories and details that only live in India now, and they will leave an empty space in my life. Then, I just realized I won’t go to the office in an auto-rickshaws with their yellow and green colors, feeling like if I was on a rollercoaster in the streets of Delhi.
I arrived in India on April 22th, 2013, feeling really scared of everything and with a stupid anxiety that almost led me to take the first plane back to Colombia. Today, after eleven months, that weak person is gone. I became a woman capable of adapting to any situation after living in the craziness of New Delhi. How I love you India, and it hurts me so much to leave you now when I was finally loving you with a full heart and a healthy stomach. When I finally learned to identify and overcome my fears and I was wandering your streets and trains and markets the same way locals do.
How hard it is for us to break up this way, with a terrible pain in our hearts and souls because we have to split temporary, still loving each other despite the oceans and continents that will be between us. And I’m dying of sadness because I can’t live here with you anymore, and you, hurting as well because I won’t be one of your faithful inhabitants who was still amazed of the sequined fabrics of your women and the beautiful souvenirs of the markets. Thank you, India, not just for letting me live here, but for showing me something that was really incredible about you EVERY-SINGLE-TIME I felt like giving up on us.