4 am when we stumbled to the car. On the horizon, the vaguest recollection of light. Not quite nighttime and not quite dawn: an unreal, liminal time. I only half registered bleary goodbyes, fumbling handshakes, hugs. The bags tumbled into the car boot with quiet thumps. Kibber was silent. Not even a bleating goat. Continue reading “Ways of Escaping: Gap Year Week 41”
Most things in Spiti have reached their peak. They have a sign to prove it. Continue reading “On Top of the World: Gap Year Week 40”
When the last group of students left, we sat and read the reflections we had them write in the last hours, lazy on the grass, waiting for lunch. Continue reading “Communi-tea: Gap Year Week 39”
Note: you might be more confused than usual if you haven’t read last week’s post.
My flips and rotations, all mid-air, reached a complexity far beyond my two months of gymnastics in second grade. Simone Biles would be jealous of the contortions I tried. With the greatest precision, I executed one final twist; breathing hard, I waited for the sound of success. Continue reading “Rosary: Gap Year Week 38”
It was a long road up. Continue reading “The Climb: Gap Year Week 37”
My aunt and uncle and I are eight hours away from the heavy gray blotch where Delhi hides. We’re one thousand and three hundred meters up, high enough to see through the plains, the silver river winding like a question mark through, low enough that thick forests surround our upward drive. Continue reading “Castles in the Air: Gap Year Week 22”
I am learning to look down as well as up lately.