Two months in India, with one week from that spent in my mothers village. I loved it. That one week was amazing.
My day would start about 45min before sunrise with a cacophony of azaans (call to prayer) around 06:00 I can't remember exact times. I'd go to the masjid (2min walk) and after fajr prayer I'd come back to the family bungalow. Where my aunty would be reading Quraan on the porch.
She'd then rustle up a two egg omelette and some roti. These were eggs from chickens which roam the yard around the bungalow. Free range is an understatement.
During breakfast my aunty would talk to me and update me who I need to visit in the village that day. It'd been 12 years since I was last here.
And while village life in Gujarate is drastically changed. Some things are are they were when I was a snot nosed youth running feral with the local kids playing add on huge trees.
People smiled, everyone you said salaam to responded with a smile. Old folk who recognised me now at the age of 30 who had last seen me when I was around 12. They still have love for you in the village. Well the old timers anyway.
I returned from that peace, to a whirlwind of weddings (My sister), and a new job which is no walk in the park.
My Diploma in permaculture, well I'm so behind it'll be impossible to be on track with the rest of the group. I'm pretty sure I'll need to complete and document the projects completely independently.
As the days become shorter in the Land of Eng, my mojo is dieing.
I need to just sit down with a huge piece of paper and mind map my thoughts for now.
Maybe a picture to follow