two years ago I married India

Two years ago i married India. But this was not an arranged marriage. Or arranged by the Gods maybe, far from this bodily life we live. Me and India: the love affair was going on for a while. Probably since I saw your long eyelashes blinking with your dark eyeshades (can't believe there is no kajal on that!) at that bar in Vietnam; probably since I tasted yoga for the first time in that acting movement class; probably when I burned my tongue with madras biriani in that restaurant in Lisboa; probably when I did not dance Navrati at that temple in Maputo; probably when I tried the first kathakali steps washed in my own sweat in Kerala; or when I first tasted idlis (oh idli love!) at master's house, or prasad at snake temple (yes, paysam!!) or probably when I gazed at Amritapuri waters or cried at kali temple after Amma's hug; probably after street chai and greased pakoras in Mumbai; probably since I started wearing a bright red bindi in my forehead, cause I feel so strange without it; probably after dancing meditation in Pune; or after Swiming at sunset in Goa; probably when I received colorful garlands for the first time from your mother in Indore or when I almost fainted facing Indian traffic in the heat... Or... probably since I saw Taj Mahal's image (can you believe I haven't seen it for real yet?!) at one of my mum's oriental art books when I was a child (boy I was fascinated by that book). Or probably since the first time I tasted cardamom, just that way you keep it in your pocket, and you chew it and you forever enchant your words (and your kisses). Of course this was my love affair, this was my passion and my despair, my beauty and my beast. My turn me on and my iceberg. Sometimes lost in the beauty of a little temple of Shiva underneath a tree others not managing to see pass the cow's shit just in front of it. Sometimes delighted with the sound of tabla, others irritated by the high pinch voice that goes with it. So in love with the bright saris, so hating having to wear one. So fascinated by the mysterious rituals, so mad I was lost taking part of them. It was ON and OFF detox and intox of India. Such pleasure in an ayurvedic body oil massage, only matched by the amount of disgust in a glass of ghee to drink at panchakarma. But then I decided to choose, and I choose to accept something I feel like a karmic tie, a beyond time and space connection - and we did, also, called it a marriage. Inside of me i married my fire to yours, and we have, indeed, been burning since. When I say I married India you provably imagine gorgeous henna tattoo all over me, the groom coming riding on a horse and me, covered with a silk red sari, eyes looking down, delicate and reserved, siting in the middle of flower mandalas, in front of a brass dya, waiting for your light. Yes, that sounds amazing, but that is not me. I cannot tell you how many challenges I face when I visit, when I taste, when I cook, when I wear, when I kiss, when I love... India. India is my soulmate, indeed it is. Not the one that gives me forever bliss but the one that brings to the surface every one of my unresolved issues. India is my master, indeed it is. Not the one that uplifts and nourishes my soul with daily inspirational quotes and chants but the one that shakes my beliefs to dust. India is my tantra, indeed it is. Not the one that teaches me Kama sutra but the one that lives in the pleasure I learn to take from all the moments of my time. India is my sadhana, indeed it is. Not (only) the one that daily helps me down my mat for Suryanamaskar, not the one that flows trough my throat chakra speaking my truth and gives life to my kundalini dance moves celebrating my nature but the one that humbles me every step of the way, keeping the ego at bay. India is my spiritual path, indeed... It is... Not one that takes me to live in the mountain, wearing white clothes and forever meditating in a cave... But the one that shows me serenity in the middle of an Asian market; kindness in the aggressive crowd on a bus; calmness during a toddler tantrum; beautiful songs in a sleepless night; grounding in a skyscrapers town; strings of light in a long distance relationship... Two years a go I married India. But the love affair was going on for a while... This is not, as you can see about loving you, but I also do... Happy anniversary... With love, Joana (And now, yoga! ;-))