Mission complete,India approved by Mr Oshman & Simosa21

Well.
Here I am. Alone in Kolkata. Simi took a bus to the southern part of the city somewhere to
do the Vipassana (silent meditation). Four and a half months of toghether-hood made the hotelroom feel rather empty last night when I watched the HBO 9 o'clock movie by myself.

I hated this country sometimes. Too many people, too much traffic, too much heat. Too much attention as I can not melt into the crowd walking on the street. Simply too much of most things. I felt so vulnerable at times I thaught I'd better just lock myself up in the hotel-room. I guess this comes from not having frames big enough to fit all impressions, challenges, people, smells, sounds. Unconsciously the frames of my box have grown. What it means or how much I can't answer to in this moment.

As Simosa21 was trying to find out what bus to take yesterday I was waiting in the shadow together with her backpack. Coming back she told me about this lady rushing to help her find her bus since she saw Simi was a tourist. Saying that we both smiled and I guess, felt that that's one of those many many small things that makes India so great.
"I love this country" Simi said as we both tried not to cry.
I didn't reply but I was thinking the same.

I found myself humming Swedish songs as I started (for the last time) packing my backpack. Swedish songs that reminded me of home. I think this means I'm ready to go home now, and stay, at least for a little while.

I wanna say thank you.
To India, the land of many small and big things.
To Sadhana forest and to the people we met there.
To the guy who said "welcome to India!" as we were wandering toghether with the pilgrims i Tiruvannamalai.
To the rickshaw driver who let us drive his rickshaw.
To the ladies on the bus in Agra who offered me a seat in a over-crowded bus.
To the Mumbaiboys for our late Mumbai-nights.
To our Kottayam friends that invited us and, who thaught us everything we need to know about south-Indian cooking.
To the guy who let us escape the desertwind with chai and blankets in his small clay-house.
To the crazy jewelleryshop owner in Jaipur and his two boys who gave us pink pearlnecklaces.
To fellow travellers whit whom we shared time and thaughts.
To my balloon-tiger that very unfortunately past away too soon.
To Camilla for daring to join us.
To the hotel-managers in Jodhpur and Jaipur.
To the man on Delhi airport who finally gave Simi our ticket to Bangalore.
To the flower&parfume-men who provided us with those for Simi's birthday.
To the girl screaming out loud when she saw us.
To the three boys on our last trainstation.
To the guard of the strange monument for the dead princesses in the desert.
To the ex-monk novice, and the guy in the green t-shirt who sang hindi songs for us.
To all couchsurfers who helped us out, to all children waving at us, to everyone part of this, most of the time,
happy chaos.

Of course my horse:
Most of all.
Thank you Simi.
We're a good team.
I'll miss you.

So long.
I have some Indian last streets to walk, quite a few  last "no thank you"s to say, one or two last mango-lassis,
some  last people to tell where I come from ("oh England!" "no, FINLAND") and inform them whether I'm married or not, before I have my last ride to the airport.

Hello, whatever and whoever home means and includes these days.
Farewell India. See you, sometime.

Puss.
Nina