You know that feeling of happiness that you sometimes feel inside, but you have no words to describe it? No words to describe why? Well, perhaps it's because you don't really know, only know you absolutely love that feeling.
I'm sitting by the kitchen table with a cup of tea reflecting on that exact feeling; Super excited that I'm back to work, super duper excited about a pillow shaped like a cat in happy colours, amazed that I finally found THE book about International Social Work - with a discount! Hoping I'm not among the 45% of people who have hair loss a month after Dengue. How nice it is to see Dancing Ballet in the living room alone. all the kids at work again. Parades under the balcony. That the regular auto driver that takes me to work, still will after I've been sick for four weeks! How lucky I am to have met such amazing people while in India, hoping they will be lifelong friends. My newfound love; eating Pomegranates, and the two songs I didn't know I had that makes me smile. Yes, those are all things I'm thinking about right now.
Sipping my tea, identifying these wonderful things of life in Delhi I'm trying to block out an episode that taught me a lesson. An episode with an unusual auto driver, yes I say unusual because auto drivers are usually respectful gentlemen. Unfortunately, I was in for a lesson of "don't trust anyone" this weekend.
It was dark, but we travel by auto all the time and perhaps I think I'm tougher than I really am. He dropped my friend first, to then take me home. Approaching my stop, I got a bad feeling and got my pepperspray ready and keys with my whistle on (thanks to my friend who ensured it in my suitcase and the university I attended's Woman's Resource Center for handing them out). I considered getting out at the market close to my place, but changed my mind when men were eying me offensively.
Paying the auto driver he started arguing about the price, which often happens. What was different this time was that instead of driving off , he came out of his auto approaching me while speaking hindi. Staring at me. I walked towards the entrance door, trying to stick in my key, luckily the door was unlocked. I opened the door, it was dark inside, and he came faster towards me. Staying calm, I was able to get the key inside the keyhole on the first try, he took ahold of the door. I held the door harder and locked the door. Seeing the doorknob go up and down, up and down, I ran upstairs and finally reached home. That's when it hit me what had happened, it all happened in what seemed like a slow motion movie. Feeling empowered by the whistle and pepper spray, I'm relieved I reacted to the situation by staying calm. I was lucky.
That feeling of being lucky is part of that special feeling of happiness.
Perhaps I'm tougher than I think I am really.
I'm sitting by the kitchen table with a cup of tea reflecting on that exact feeling; Super excited that I'm back to work, super duper excited about a pillow shaped like a cat in happy colours, amazed that I finally found THE book about International Social Work - with a discount! Hoping I'm not among the 45% of people who have hair loss a month after Dengue. How nice it is to see Dancing Ballet in the living room alone. all the kids at work again. Parades under the balcony. That the regular auto driver that takes me to work, still will after I've been sick for four weeks! How lucky I am to have met such amazing people while in India, hoping they will be lifelong friends. My newfound love; eating Pomegranates, and the two songs I didn't know I had that makes me smile. Yes, those are all things I'm thinking about right now.
Sipping my tea, identifying these wonderful things of life in Delhi I'm trying to block out an episode that taught me a lesson. An episode with an unusual auto driver, yes I say unusual because auto drivers are usually respectful gentlemen. Unfortunately, I was in for a lesson of "don't trust anyone" this weekend.
It was dark, but we travel by auto all the time and perhaps I think I'm tougher than I really am. He dropped my friend first, to then take me home. Approaching my stop, I got a bad feeling and got my pepperspray ready and keys with my whistle on (thanks to my friend who ensured it in my suitcase and the university I attended's Woman's Resource Center for handing them out). I considered getting out at the market close to my place, but changed my mind when men were eying me offensively.
Paying the auto driver he started arguing about the price, which often happens. What was different this time was that instead of driving off , he came out of his auto approaching me while speaking hindi. Staring at me. I walked towards the entrance door, trying to stick in my key, luckily the door was unlocked. I opened the door, it was dark inside, and he came faster towards me. Staying calm, I was able to get the key inside the keyhole on the first try, he took ahold of the door. I held the door harder and locked the door. Seeing the doorknob go up and down, up and down, I ran upstairs and finally reached home. That's when it hit me what had happened, it all happened in what seemed like a slow motion movie. Feeling empowered by the whistle and pepper spray, I'm relieved I reacted to the situation by staying calm. I was lucky.
That feeling of being lucky is part of that special feeling of happiness.
Perhaps I'm tougher than I think I am really.
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