Journey beyond travel

she is really beautiful. and i mean, in an unbiased way, if that is even possible. her porcelain skin with its pronounced softness, especially around those chubby cheeks...yum. she also has the softness on the inside. she is 9 and a half as I write this blog. and what a joy my daughter is. her keen negotiating skills would leave a herb cohen or prez carter shuffling under the dais. her namesake is a rustic town nestled in the himalayas, cool and soothing- just like her. her name also is a myriad-hued himalayan pheasant- the national bird of nepal- colorful, proud, intriguing and a bit enigmatic just like her. gritty, relentless cartwheeler, sensitive and obstinate all in one. my little boy who holds my heart. he busts all myths i held of raising boys. he cuddles and empathizes. his razor sharp brain is as fast as his lanky legs. he understands easily, perceives fearlessly and loves animals that have quirky names. he has big round eyes full of insatiable curiosity. he is 7 and a half. there is a larger than explainable humanity to him- just like what i think his name means. he is a connector, bring people together easily. around his stories, his conversations, his thoughts and his big ideas. and oh his hearty laughter. it is my honor to have birthed them. and to sculpt them to whoever them might become. this life long journey i savor every minute with no regrets. i am eager to parent. i am eager to squeeze them every minute. i am eager to yell using my indian voice. i am eager to play made up games with them. i have been eager to travel the world with them. travel and learn. travel and give. travel and enjoy. somewhere in my subconscious, i am a 15-year old gypsy girl, traveling in a caravan with constantly-cud-chewing-camels and other whirling dancers like myself moving along a route full of glass bangles, handwoven baskets, jasmine and more sweet smelling nothings. my abode would have flour paintings on the walls and i would laugh and dance and dance and laugh. barefoot of course. always surrounded by people. a lot of people. this is where my soul lives. in a couple of weeks, my manali and manav will be hanging off my elbows as they always do with a backpack each and we will wander off on a 5-week journey. beyond. travel. we will travel to kampala and meet my long-ago-friend sakina. she and her family we will meet for the first time and i already know they will make their own stories that they will tell some day. saku and i spent some time in the warhli villages of maharashtra eating raw mangoes, building roads, riding in trucks that were driven by trusting strangers. the kids and i will hopefully bring some smiles to children in an orphanage and then spend time learning to take care of injured chimpanzees. from uganda, the pearl of africa, we will venture into the serengiti and my children will be ecstatic whether or not they see wildebeest migrating. i hope to see where humankind was birthed. i want to set foot in olduvai gorge that seemed such a far away place when i first read about it in grad school. ngorongoro is not to be missed friends tell me. and the cattle market, the flea market and the clicking tongues of tribes alive and well. zanzibar is next. what can i say? i will celebrate my birthday there, amidst the sands and souks. will i tell the slaves' story to my munchkins? how will i tell the slaves' story to my munchkins? well, i will learn a thing or two from them, as i do when i keep my mind open and mouth shut. we will travel to dubai and onwards to london where when the airport gates open, i will see my mummy and papa tired but smiling, i am sure. they were brave parents. braver than me. they let me set sail along to foreign france when i was all of 11. papa and me climbing the very first escalators we had ever taken in the air india building in nariman point. we got a passport made and some small change at chunibhai patel travels. i still remember mummy's peacock blue sari she wore when she picked my up at the airport on may 20th, 1986 after i spent a month fundraising through dance for enedsa- an organization that dear 'french aunty' started for kids in the slums of mysore. french aunty- i wish i had stayed in touch. she was gone too soon. i digress. mummy and papa deserve to see the world a bit. they have given me the world. we will all then travel to morocco.. a place that i know papa will simply immerse himself in. he, i think, shares my wanderlust. or is it that i share his? after we all ride the london eye and perhaps a camel or two, we will come back to our aum sweet aum. where the love of our lives, toddo will be waiting, rejuvenated and rested as he so so deserves. i have no doubt that our backyard will be a different hue and so will his soft skin behind his neck from working outside when we are all gone. he will hug the kids for a straight 30 minutes until they squeal. he will tell me what a good mom i am and underplay what an open minded and big-hearted partner he is. and then we will all live happily ever after. at least this is my hope. wish us all luck as we take on this epic trip. give us tips, tell us where to find laughter and which camels we should avoid. join our journey beyond travel. you can check our blog out whenever you are bored:)