number one.
In India, some people will spoon you
on a bus if you fall asleep next to them,
roll down their windows to chat with
you in a traffic jam, stare unblinkingly at
your non-Indian-ness, help you if you’re
lost, insist you get in their family photos
at historical monuments, invite you in for
tea, burp, fart, and laugh in your face—
it’s totally annoying. And sweet. And
makes me think they clearly know
something important that I’ve long
forgotten (and that I suspect most of the
world has forgotten, too). I didn’t have
to darken the doorway of an ashram or
stick a red dot on my forehead or partake
in any of the other thousands of spiritual