Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Bikash replied matter-of-factly, as though I had just asked him if the sun was yellow.
“Yes, all are like me. They're jolly; they're friendly; they're good. That's why this is the
Land of Happiness.”
I had been traveling the world seeking and finding kindness. But now, I was in its mecca.
In so many ways, I felt like this moment was the pinnacle of my journey. I had found within
this little country a dream I didn't even know I had: to sit by a fire with a laughing stranger,
sharing a cup of a tea on a rainy afternoon in a place that felt like the best of home.
Leaving Bhutan, I knew that maybe it was time to create a new idea of home. Not one
that fit so tightly I felt like I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was by reconnecting to this adven-
ture, that I would always be on it. That night, I scrolled through my address book, through
all the names and numbers and emails I had collected, knowing that no matter where I went
in this world (including the fine city of Los Angeles), those memories, those connections
would always be there.
The next morning, I breathed in the clean mountain air, bracing myself for my return
to the busy and dirty streets of India. I had fallen in love not just with the external
beauty of Bhutan, which was indeed magnificent, but also with the internal beauty of its
people—with their faith, their joy, their deep connection not just to each other, but also
to the knowledge that we are all only here for a brief and blistering moment. We come to
dance and sing and see our hearts get broken over and over again. And then we leave this
body behind, the light that lives within us either being extinguished into nothingness, or
living on in some other form. Either way, we will never be here in the same time, or the
same way, again.
* * *
“Goddamn it!” I yelled, nearly kicking Kindness One in the head, which, for once, wasn't
actually to blame for my frustration. The culture shock of returning to India had hit me
hard. Gone was the serenity of Bhutan—
adios
to happiness and joy.
Just in case you aren't up on your South Asian geography (as I certainly wasn't), Cal-
cutta is a massive detour from Bhutan. But I was a man on a mission, and a man on a mis-
sion cannot be stopped—even by the perilous roads of India.
I had just been driven off the road by a goat herder and a motorbike filled with people.
There must have been at least four adults and two children on that bike. Both Kindness One
and I almost careened into a wall, stopping just before we took out the side of someone's
home.
