Following the Sun

I saw the sun set yesterday evening from the Pudong airport in Shanghai. A largely uninspiring venue for quite a beautiful scene. This morning I watch it rise from a train headed to Jaipur. After a sleepless overnight flight on a budget airline and a heated political discussion with my beau about Narendra Modi which began less than an hour after our reunion at the airport, I am feeling less than charitable towards ‘India’. But as I dunk my biscuit into my tea and watch the sun rise, I feel a familiar sense of appreciation rise inside me. Appreciation for the little things, like complimentary tea and biscuits and bottled water; for the beauty of the sun rising behind a foreground of pigs nosing their ways through mountains of rubbish, and families sleeping rough. I’m back. The vicious weariness and fatigue I was feeling a few hours ago is gone. I’m not sure if it was the two cups of sweet, milky tea I’ve had or simply the excitement and joy of being back in India and seeing my love again that has reinvigorated me. At any rate, I’m happy.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.