We had planned for weeks and weeks to get the roommates together to take a trip to this place. Finally our dream came to fruition. I had to meet them there, racing home from work in record time, even turning down a boy to be with them (that's what I call roommate love).
Pungent, foreign, rich, vibrant, smells enveloped me and I knew I had come to the right place.
I seem to be indifferent about Chinese, Thai, or other Asian food, but Indian holds a fond place in my heart. We all had the lunch buffet (which I would definitely recommend if you've never had Indian because you can try a little of everything). I walked up to grab food and I was greeted by a rich array of deep oranges, rich browns, lovely greens, reds, and yellows, together beautiful symphony of color and food.
As I was being wrapped up in the warm delight of naan, chicken tikka marsala and rice, I allowed my mind to wander to a place it hadn't in a while. A place I forgotten I loved to be. A place where I dreamed of being in India. Of traveling and exploring, growing and learning, feeling and becoming. I longed to jump on a plane and be off. But somewhere deep inside whispered that this is not the season for such a journey. But soon. Oh how I hate seasons.
learning to love this season,
M
No comments:
Post a Comment