When you weekend in Delhi, taking overnight sleeper trains and avoiding markets because of the recent terrorist warnings.
When you openly read a book banned in India for twenty years at a bustling train station/metrostation/street corner IN INDIA. (Thank you Rushdie).
When your two month life plan involves more trains and Varanasi and Nepal and elephants and Hyderabad and LUXURIOUS living and sisterly love.
When you just live through your days because market smells that make your stomach twist and Punjabi suit wearing and butter chapati are just moment markers, just the usual daily grind.
When it's so hot that you substitute juice for food until evening falls.
When your best friend in your village is a 13 year old that carries her poundage in sass.
When, wherever you go, you have an oburoni love fest to go home to.
When signing online makes you lonely because it seems so false, so arbitrary, so far away from raw real living.
When you look back at the past couple months of empty blog posts and realize that you've lived it instead of written it.
You GO BIG.
Add then you go home.
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