India

India doesn’t ease you in - it sweeps you up. In Mumbai, I watched the city breathe through a million windows. Street food sizzled on every corner, Bollywood music spilled from taxis, and absolutely everything was moving. I ate pav bhaji on plastic stools, rode local trains that ran on instinct, and somehow found rhythm in the chaos.

But head south, and it shifts. In Goa, time stretched out with the tides. Mornings came slow, under palm trees and ceiling fans. Fishermen pulled in their nets, markets opened late, and the sea always felt close by. There’s no one version of India. Between North and South, desert and jungle, noise and stillness, it never settles into one story. That’s the beauty of it.

India doesn’t try to be easy. It asks you to pay attention. To surrender a little (also your stomach), and if you do, it gives more than you ever expected.