a happening.

So- I met this person. We met so ordinarily- but we quickly mingled into a harmonious and spirited 6 hour conversation on the bus. Ordinary morphed into auspicious. I was pleased, for lack of a better word, since meeting someone that can see past my skin colour and that I can vigorously talk with in India is, sadly, a rarity (well, that's not necessarily true, but I mean, Hindi is the National language and not English, so, you know...). Reason being language barrier and cultural resonance. You wouldn't think the latter would be of tantamount importance, but laughing about the same moronic or obscure show and discussing standardized health care is a sincere delight when all you've been saying is 'ap ka se o?' and 'tickeh', 'atcha' and 'kya?' for a couple months....

Anyway, I'm homeward bound and he's off to explore. I smile a big dorky smile all the way home. I am enriched by our exchange. We end up meeting again, this time not by accident, and it turns out to be even more fruitful than the first. So far so good... We are beginning to like each other, this is most obvious. He ends up staying longer to hang out with me, and I am, again, pleased, rather pleased! I am now filled with alacrity and wonder alongside my habitual loving-India-and-my-work spirit... life is good.

When we are not in the same city he and I seem to chat online more than regularly, and this brings us closer, too. Okaaaay. 'Cool beans' I am thinking! He is off to the desert for a week, and will be internet free. Before his journey he writes me saying he feels that he and I are destiny, and that perhaps I am even his dream woman.

WEEEELLL--- being the hopeless romantic and sucka for swoon-worthy language, I begin to melt a little and let myself get carried away by a wave that has no end in sight and that is part of smooth infinite waters. I count my lucky stars that the Universe has placed me here, in a foreign country, with many responsibilities, so that I cannot make the same mistake twice and get involved rashly with a man to regret it later (my past marriage is testament to this... hahah! Vacation/Out-of-Canada Bianca lets her guard down easily and permits swooning to occur from the opposite sex a liiittle too readily). I tread lightly, not wanting history to repeat itself, but my single-dom, my ego and my intellect get the better of me, and I let myself feel 100% what is most certainly brewing. He is disarming. He is dangerous, I can sense this right away. I love Danger. And I love the feeling that swooshes around me when I think of him. It's a congruous mixture of peace, excitement, confidence and anticipation. The red flags are no where in sight..... until-

Altercation erupts. Something cracks. A change of plans demands that he leave India sooner than expected. He promises to say goodbye. I remind him of what a huge deal Divali is in this country and that, if at all possible, he should try to stay for this festival. I have a couple days off work and would delight in the prospect of spending just a little longer with him before he must go back to his land of origin. We try to juggle travel plans, in vain. Alas, financially and time wise I cannot afford to follow him. I am disappointed. There is wicked lag in our internet chat and this does not help our current predicament. I feel l have been completely and grossly misunderstood. He states that I can't monopolize his final days in India, I am already too attached to him and that I am oversensitive. I am pressuring him to do as I want, subsequently guilting him and ripping all the excitement of our reunion..... huh? I am at a loss of words. Disbelief and frustration overwhelm me. What in the world just happened? So- the vow of a face to face goodbye falls flat. He backs out. Just. Like. That.

I am at that very instant hurt, angry, disillusioned and disenchanted not only with his choice of vocabulary and sudden icy disposition, but also with myself. Why in the world did I get swept away like this? How could words bring about such feelings? Disarming me, leaving me raw and vulnerable, powerless over my circumstance? The dull ache in my heart makes me miserable,and utterly annoyed with myself. Why why why, I repeat in the mirror? Why am I such a fool for love? Why do I let my emotions dictate my reality? How, at my ripe wise age of 32 could I let this happen to me AGAIN????? I had the rug pulled from under me without more than a glance away from my computer..

So; I cry, I write to my mother, I berate myself with self loathing remarks. But- true to my Indian self- I still do my 25 minutes of breathing... and I calm down, and I breathe... I hear the birds chirping on my balcony. I smell the Indian morning: ghee and chapati. I go over my mothers soothing words, I remember that I have a class to teach that afternoon and a staff meeting that morning. I remember how much I enjoy my work and loooove my students. I remember that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world and that India is about me. Not me finding a life partner, but me clearing the path of my purpose and falling in love with B.

I B R E A T H E . With every inhale I fill with forgiveness and creativity. With every exhale I connect with Destiny. I can only be me. I can only be the naive and trusting person that I am. I am sophisticated and emotional. I love to love.... Do I really want to be anything other than what I am? Oh my God. I feel inspired and peaceful. A few months ago had this happened, I would have chained smoked and cursed the world. Now, because of India's mantra of surrender and patience, I breathed it out and made a conscious choice not to struggle with reality. Ohm Shanti, my beloved blog readers... I am thankful for that boy INDEED!

To be continued......