Being in a shady area of town gave me a Simba-like swagger. Probably not the lesson I was supposed to take away from the Lion King. I liked the reassuring rhythm of my elephant backpack bouncing up and down as Alyssa and I hopped across shoddy roads and ducked in between traffic. About a half of a mile down the road, on a side-street overwhelmed by street vendors and random construction pits, the silver bells around a horse’s neck made pitiful attempts at overcoming the noise of the city. The women on the balconies laughed and the men looked on as we hopped over the delicate ground-floor vegetable stands and ran towards the little boy on the horse. I must ride this horse. After about a mile of attempting to match our little strides for the horses big-bounded walking, we finally caught up to them. “No,” he said. Inadvertently, my head wobbled from side to side. Um, yes. I want to ride your horse. If there is one thing I have learned in India, it’s that everything has a price. In his case, it was 100 rupees. For me, it was priceless. 

Mohos in India!

glass bangle shop

Agakhan Palace- Where Ghandi was imprisoned!

Room where Ghandi's wife died. I want this painting in my bedroom. So sweet.

Some of Ghandi's ashes. At least they aren't in the river.