A close friend and my sister asked me how my India trip was,
coming as it did just six months after my previous trip (they didn’t ask this,
I am asking myself). My response is I am glad that I listened to my cousin, who
had gently admonished me when I told her I was planning to go to Turkey with a
friend instead. My heart is full: I managed to spend a lot of time with family,
reconnected with friends I hadn’t seen in more than a decade at my journo
school reunion. As I have written before, it has been a difficult few months,
with the genocide in Gaza and the stress of finding a job, and its always good
to touch home before a big move. Yes, there were quibbles, and it does seem a
bit ridiculous that I have travelled back to the UK from India unwell on the
three of my last four trips, including this one. Life in India requires
adjustment, and I have learnt the ones that I need to make. Be cful where
you eat, eat less and exercise less. I realised that humidity zaps the appetite
and my food intake reduced sharply. Memory is unreliable when it comes to the
weather, but I felt like I struggled less last year when I came in the peak of
summer than I did this time, even though the monsoon was underway. The rain
didn’t seem to provide any cooling relief. I made sure to eat less than my
(heat-reduced) fill, and the only time I had stomach problems was when I didn’t
heed this rule. However, the ‘exercise less’ dictum is a new one. I am heading
back with a sore throat and fever. I did an intensive routine yesterday, even though
my throat was a bit scratchy and I had more or less decided the previous night
to do a relaxing yoga sessions instead. I thought I had avoided the cold that
was doing the rounds of my family home, but I was wrong. In any case, these are
just quibbles, and not visiting India is not an option, especially as my parents
are getting on in years.
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