Feed Me in New Delhi

The best food I’ve ever eaten was in New Delhi. I’m thinking of it now with a twinge of nostalgia. There is something impossibly titillating about discovering new foods that you love, with a person that you love. Is it weird that I find making yummy sounds  with my husband to be one of my favourite pastimes? It makes me so happy. Oh my god you have to try this! 

Of course there is also the other feeling that plagues me now. The feeling of oh my gosh all that food was so good but I don’t remember what any of it was called feeling. Such a tragic loss of words.

I’m definitely getting to a point where I am longing for slower, more immersive travel. I know this is a tall order because unless you travel full time it’s kind of difficult to  pull off immersive travel. For now we go somewhere and experience as much as possible in a short space of time. But I long for the kind of uninhibited experiences where you are just in a place as a temporary citizen of that place. New Delhi especially inspires this longing. I would love to amble through her streets. Observing and meeting her people without the limitations of a tour schedule. Eating food from the streets or in little side street cafes. Visiting temple after temple. I could happily visit them all without ever being bored. Their peace would sustain me.

I wonder if my husband would happily amble through the whole of India for a year. Imagine it: Yoga retreats. Temples. Curries and naan bread galore. So many mangoes! A seemingly endless collection of caves all over the place. Intricate carvings. Beautiful fabrics. Everything that glitters…

I am ready, perhaps, for a different way of life to start, though I remain loyal to this one while it needs me. Children grow up though, and once they have their own lives I cannot help but wonder if it would be unreasonable for me to figure out how to live just about everywhere…

Leave a Reply