It's funny how time and distance change you, the roads you take don't always lead you home.
A few months before arriving in India, we read an article from Post Masculine’s website called “A Dust Over India.” It was terrifying. It talked about the scams, the poverty, and the sometimes unbelievably messed up, inhumane things like forced child beggars that a Western traveler can encounter about the country. The article’s title was a reference to the fact that everywhere you go, a fine, musty brown haze appears to float over the land, obscuring both the horizon line and your sense of reality. We braced ourselves; this place sounded intense. We knew very little else about India. Our only other points of reference were Slumdog Millionaire, the Taj Mahal, and yoga.
No sooner had we landed then we were riding our bikes through the center of Mumbai. Not in our wildest expectations could we have anticipated what was waiting for us…
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