Lal Dil (Red Heart)

It's more than a month from my "coming back". And it still feels like the first time I've met Me. I hold my hand, I smile to green fields on the way to post office and in between I kind of hate rules that rule this world of ours, called Slovenia, Ljubljana. Walking on the sidewalk, and on the right side. And especially walking on the side. I like walking in the middle. In the middle of the night. On the street. Walking, jumping, smiling, saying "namaste" in the middle of the street. With the street. With the places, surrounded with something. With melos. With heart. "This is India, man. This is India. This is the land of heart. This is where heart is king, man. The fuckin' heart. ... Two hundred fuckin' languages, and a billion people. India is the heart."

I left something there. I surrendered totally. With my body, my soul, my mind and my heart. I probably started living there in the minute I stepped down from the Virgin Atlantic plane. The heat was unbearable, but the experience was invaluable. I had to take 2 layers of clothes off, I melted down in half of a second. It was like an occidentalistic view of what is called love at first sight and falling in love. Sweaty palms, shaking knees, blush on the cheeks and empty mind. There was nothing on my mind. No monkeys/rabbits/elephants jumping/hopping/walking slowly from one branch/bush/step to another, with little clouds of sayings like "what you're gonna do here" enclosed with question marks. No Devil-Angel counterfighting, no black and white. But colors! Everywhere. Hollow muscular organ in chest that keeps blood running started burning lightly, making me carry out the red part of a body part we call heart and enchanting me not to stop.

And I didn't. I'm in love. With everything She does, despite Her internal contradictions, with little steps that I made, voices I heard and missions I succeeded with, India became my heart. So yes, I can say, without hesitaton that I am heartless, ruthless Slovenian looking, feeling, seeing, searching and loving things I discovered in India, in this country.

With (another) sleepless night, ful of pictures from me, my life and my decision to go, I see why it is lovely to breathe. The pictures of my heart that keeps bumping with every second while I'm not able to move role around and whilst music from my mp3 player keeps my ears busy, my mind is totally blind. Oh!, I like sleepless nights. Even if it seems they give no solutions, answers to unxepected questions rise like spring's flowers. Opening up with every shine from the sun and introducing its leaves to water drop. And (if) I wish to fly, I want to do it now. No "Why?"'s, no reasons not to, no holding back and rationalizing things that cannot be rational at all.

Thinking adjusting (back) is an easy thing to do, puts blindfold on everyone's eyes. Ofcourse you "get back on track" slowly, but the only dilemma others - and not you - have to solve is: WHEN are you going back. But the catch is you know you actually never left.