A Peek Into My World: Journaling My Departure

Journal entry from Wednesday, July 19, 2006:

In one week, I will be leaving Bhavnagar permanently. I am anxious to leave, yet the part of me that has grown comfortable is feeling strange. I grow very attached to all the places in my life that bloom with memories, whether good or bad. I wish I could capture it all - the feelings, the conversations, the smells, the simple humanity. The tinkling of the bell on my bicycle as I round the corner. The smell of the bridge in Kumbharwada, from garbage steeped in the creek. The taste of the ingenious combination of sing and revadi (peanuts and sesame candy) as I share it with members of the team as "timepass" on an afternoon. The almost daily silent exchange with the man who owns the shop on the corner as I buy a Rs 4 bag of refreshing, delicious Amul chaas to accompany dinner. Sitting at a table in the office with itchy feet, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I’m being bitten by red ants. Having the cough-syrup tasting cold drink grossly misnamed “Re-Sip” with some teenage girls on Nari Road, who don’t want to do anything related to the vocational training but insist I come to their homes to shoot the breeze.

Trying to suppress laughter in the morning as cute Jini Baa, so appropriately named, hums to herself and says “ha, baa,” and “saru, baa” after everything. Discussing life and being made a fool by down-to-earth Appubhai, the only person who really seems to understand why I have come and why I am frustrated. Being called “my dear little sister” by Nishitbhai after exchanging morning greetings, the only English phrase I may hear all day from the staff. Nilamben tickling me at the most inopportune times so I embarrass myself. The overwhelming feelings and confusion as I sit on the hard dirt-packed floor in a Moti Talav home, with a girl telling me that she has no dreams and desires because there’s no point in having them, while her mother nods in agreement as she makes dough for rotis. The rush of an unexpected smile on my face when I run into a Bal Sena (children’s collective) member on the street and they yell out, “De tali, ben!” (high five, sister!). Even that feeling of pointlessness and helplessness when trying to wrestle with my project.

Not all are experiences or feelings that are warm or rosy, but they make up small bits of how my NGO and Bhavnagar are constructed in my world. Not at all what I expected or even wanted, but the fact is that it’s there and it happened. The jumble of thoughts are not full of epiphanies, just simply... life. And that’s about as real as it gets.

Shital Shah
Indicorps Fellow 2005-2006