Rain

While in the mental hospital, it began raining for the first time since arriving in India.  Beautiful skies and sunshine then out of no where torrential downpour.  I couldn’t help but notice the appropriateness of this gloomy weather to match my current state of mind in Banyan.

As quickly as it started, it was gone.  But its waters still flooded the streets as it tried to soak into the parched Earth.  As we drove, the potholes and crevices were now marked by brown muddy puddles.  Indicators of the bumps ahead, yet their depths unknown.

I thought the rain would cleanse India, wiping it free of its dirt and grime.  This however was not the case.  A quote from a picture inside the hospital popped in my mind.  “Beautiful People. Ugly India.”

I started to find truth in that and I started to hate this country.  How could such horrible and unjust things happen to the most beautiful people like Aryan, Ruth, and Angela?  It was disgusting and I blamed India for turning a blind eye to its people’s struggles.  My mind wandered through the twists and turns of roads and traffic.  Until we came to a brief halt in front of a tall apartment complex.

My eye caught a man standing on his balcony in the middle unit of the middle floor.  He broke up the symmetry of the building with his stark pose, both hands gripping the banister, shoulders hunched forward, a scowl as he glared down at the streets below.  He was a frightening large man, and he began to make me nervous, until I looked closely.

Ever since being in India I have only seen the same breed of mutt dog and mutt dog scavenging through garbage.  But now I was staring at my first dog of some identifiable breed.  There beside this balding man with only hair spilling from his tank top and dhoti, was a St. Bernard, standing and staring in the same manner as his owner.  With his paws on the banister and his haunches pushing him forward, here was the most perfect example of Man’s Best Friend.

I laughed.  And continued to laugh.  Poor Angela probably thought I would soon be joining her back at Banyan.  Beautiful people. Ugly India.  But BEAUTIFUL people.  And in the end, they are what makes India, India.