OPEN WINDOWS: Good brakes. Good horn. Good luck.

Finding a perfect copy of The Jungle Book below the Turtle Café was the ideal ending to our week long trek through Northern India. With the taste of lemon cake and coffee still lingering, I also came across this beautiful version of Franny and Zooey. So beautiful that I just didn’t feel right about taking it out of Delhi. One day, somebody in India will read that very same copy that I admired.

I handed the cashier rupees in exchange for my new book, pushed into a fittingly simple paper bag. Catherine, Beth, Alyssa and I walked outside to bargain for a rickshaw ride to the New Delhi National Gallery of Modern Art. Our rushed viewing of the four floors, twenty minutes until closing time, was well worth the security check. The levels were arranged by date, with the very top holding a collection of the most modern pieces. The gallery was open and clean, showcasing the most creative and handsome of Indian paintings. On our way back to the airport, I loitered over the stories of the last six days, hanging on to the feeling of being a twenty-one-year-old exploring India with good friends.

Like the end of our trip, we began the first flight with a cup of coffee and a brownie. Our flight, despite the early hour drive to Mumbai from Pune, was lovely and easy. Two hours after stepping onto the small but accommodating plane, we landed in Udaipur, Rajistan. It is a rarity to be able to use the word quaint to describe India. For its general lack of traffic and congestion, Udaipur was lazy and enjoyable, like the aftertaste of the brownie; the effort of travelling was in the near past, leaving us two days of complete recreation: park, pool, paintings, palaces, puppet shows, temples, and rooftop eateries (all those p-words are a complete coincidence).

Mid-air luxuries

Our hotel in Udaipur

Udaipur. I really loved the paintings throughout the city.

My sustenance in India

Dear Mom and Dad...

My tea cup brings all the turtles to the yard

Fresh lime soda on the rooftop

Overnight sleeper train

On the second morning we walked into town and trekked up six flights of stairs to attend a morning yoga session on the rooftop. I was basically watching all of the other dreadlocked participants the whole time since my head was perpetually stuck somewhere halfway between my shoulders and my knees. “Down, down” the instructor said as he pushed my back towards the floor. “Oh no, broken.” Yes, Mr. Yoga Man. Melissa broken.

Which brings me to my running list of things that I have broken since coming to India (a majority of them on this trip):

Two pairs of shoes. Luckily, we had a Girl Scout in the group. Beth used a piece of gum for the first unfortunate snapping of the sandal, and found a replacement flip-flop lying in a trash pile for the second. Yes, I used a flip-flop from a trash pile to walk back to the hotel. As Catherine reminded me: “It’s either wear it or go to the hospital from cutting your foot on the road rubble.” I hate it when she’s right.

One skirt. Don’t let anyone tell you that you will not gain weight in India. See above brownie, lemon cake.

One water bottle. I refuse to buy another one, so basically, I’m really thirsty.

One treadmill. Don’t even ask.

We spent the following two days exploring Jaipur, the Pink City, and rebelling against the expectations of our driver, Kumar. We may be a little stubborn when it comes to deciding where to eat and shop. Alyssa called us the Bad Tourists. It’s not that far off. We got reprimanded by a few tour guides, too. I can’t help it if Mr. Bossypants’ breakdowns made us giggle.

rooftop of a palace converted into a hotel

that goat stole my t-shirt

My camel was such a lover boy

Agra Fort

Camel herd on the side of the road

Taj entrance

Kumar had a few very proud moments during our four hour car ride to Agra. Waking us from our heat-induced coma, the whack! on the front window reverberated from Beth’s hand. Kumar looked at the dead mosquito and told Beth that she was a murderer. In the un-amused manner that has become unique to her, she replied “well, they keep biting me.” Pause. “They LOVE you! Keeheeheehee.” Kumar loves to laugh. Longer pause. “You killed your LOVER! Keeehheeeheeeehee.” And we love Kumar. A short while later he followed up with “you only need three things to drive in India: good brakes, good horn, good luck.”

Arriving in Agra, we dropped off our things at what was to be our last hotel stay in northern India. We met our tour guide downstairs and slumped into the car for the finale sight-see. Human effort and ability will never cease to overwhelm and amaze me. The Taj Mahal was one of the most awe-inspiring things that I have ever experienced. One day, I hope to be able to bring all of my loved ones to stand in front of the brilliant white marble mosque.