CHITWAN

 

 

Chitwan is the name of the area I was staying. The village is Patalahara.  This is near the Rapti River. On the other side of the river is the Chitwan National Park. They have Bengai Tigers, elephants, rhinos, monkeys, crocodiles and a lot of animals in the park. I didn’t go there.  I didn’t feel like it, I don’t like looking at animals as they are a show. I hate circuses or zoos.

 

When I was back in the village, everything went on as usual for a while. The women missed the classes to go pick rice, the younger kids cried when the classes were over and the older ones shared their secrets. But day by day it seemed a little bit harder to leave this small village and beautiful people that I cared and loved so much for.  Most of all this peace I found here, leaving it and going into the unknown seemed more and more stupid every day.

 

 

 

 

I was going back to Istanbul yes, but did I still have a house? Did I still belong? Did I have someone I loved? What was I going to do there? I fell asleep with all kinds of questions in my head every night. I fought and cried in my dreams, with me for me...

 

Finally I gave up, I decided I would do whatever seemed right to me the moment I walked out of the airplane in Istanbul.  Whatever my heart desired, whatever felt ok.

 

This time I was going to listen to my heart. My logic got me into all kind of trouble and left me half way.  I was going to give my heart a chance, and go wherever it would take me this time.

 

As days went by, my students kept telling me to stay. I told them I wish it was that easy.  I wished I could just decide to stay.  I still don’t know why I didn’t. But I had things to clear, people to take out of my life. I couldn’t tell them the truth instead I told them I missed my family and promised to come back one day. And I will keep that promise and go back one day.  It would be impossible to not come to a place that welcomed me so honestly and sincere.

They kept saying what will happen? I knew what; they will organize a goodbye party, we will all dance and cry.

That’s what happened.  They made me wear a traditional white Tharu sari with flowers on my head.  We got together in the classroom, everybody talked and then I gave a speech holding my tears in my eyes... I told them how much I loved them, and how much I learned here. I thanked them for their hospitality and kindness. We hugged, took pictures, they made me dance while they sang.

The white sari surrounding me like a cloud  of melancholy, the flowers crown on my head smelling of a dream, I turned and danced taking in all the sadness and trying to feel it deep down. I needed this. I found this. I loved this. I had to leave this.

Their absence will leave a mark in my heart but their existence left a bigger mark in my soul. 

 

 

 

 

I chose to come here, I chose to leave as everything else in my life I chose to find something just to miss it when it was gone.  I created my life brick by brick working hard.  I would have to work a lot more now, not every brick was full of love and hope, some just waited to fall down on you. 

 

I left a piece of my heart there while dancing to a Nepali melody, it fell down and with the help of my tears it sprout right there at that moment, and started beating with the rhythm of the music.

 

It is still beating there.