I had plans for my trip to India.  I’d find myself a nice spot every morning to sit with my cup of coffee and muse about the things I’d experienced the day before. Garnish it with a few (well-shot and interesting) pictures. Post online. I packed my cables for the camera and everything.
But of course, it came different. Most days I couldn’t really handle sorting out blotchy wifi connections before breakfast. So I did it the old-fashioned way with pen and pink clothbound notebook (so fitting)

“How was it?” is what people ask me now. And I struggle to say in a few sentences what it was like to share Christmas dinner with a family in a Bombay home, to walk through marble palaces carved for kings, to see a nine-year-old girl preparing roti breads in the dust by the side of the road, to swerve out of the way of motorcyclists in narrow market lanes, to drink cocktails with my friends listening to the surf break on the beach in Goa.
So allow me to elaborate here…