18 & 19 March 2025
While I was away from the ashram, a question kept circling in my mind—should I go back there for April? The Holi festivities had come to an end, and with many of the girls returning home, it would be very quiet. The opportunity to teach or contribute further had passed, and I wasn’t exactly thriving in the desert climate. While the heat didn’t bother me too much, the dry air, constant dust, and colorless surroundings had worn me down. Eventually, I decided it was time to move on. Once we arrived after Holi, I packed my things and returned to Madpackers.
In a way, it feels like I’ve been waiting for something since I arrived in February, though I’m still not sure what that something is. With no firm plans for the rest of March and April, I’ve decided to stop overthinking it all. I have about a month and a half before I fly to Malaysia, and I trust the universe will guide me and provide what I need—as long as I keep doing my part. Things always have a way of unfolding.
In the meantime, I’ve decided to focus on what I can do now. I’ll be working on my blog, continuing with my 13-week Reality Creation Process, and starting an online Business Growth training. I’m genuinely excited to learn new skills I can integrate with my current offerings to eventually host paid online sessions.
I’ve also applied for a volunteer position at a yoga center in Rishikesh. I’d love to return there—to see how it’s changed, to reconnect with my teachers from my first trip in 2022. I know my heart will be happier somewhere with more greenery, trees, and mountains. Dryness just doesn’t suit me.
Today, I decided to give my mind a break and head back to the Blue City alone for some gentle exploration. My first stop was the famous Omelette Shop, and it did not disappoint. A creamy cheese masala omelette wrapped around pieces of toast—absolute bliss. Then, Google Maps pointed me toward a little street labeled “Main Photo Lane,” supposedly a stunning photo opportunity. The streets were much quieter than when Lisa and I had explored them, making the walk far more enjoyable.
As I stood admiring the bright blue steps and the colorful flowers draping overhead, a group of kids approached me, beaming and curious. They told me about their “foreign coin collection” and asked if I had any coins to give. I knew it probably wasn’t true—I’ve heard many stories from begging children and adults by now—but a few foreign coins weren’t going to change much. I dug through my wallet and found some South African cents. Their joy was genuine, and they skipped away, proudly showing off their new treasures.
Later, the streets began to crowd, and I headed back to the hostel. In the dorm, I met new friends who raved about a nearby lassi shop. We quickly agreed to go on a little lassi-finding adventure together. Once again, I wasn’t disappointed. The lassi was thick, creamy, and beautifully flavored with cardamom, cashews, and almonds. It was easily one of the best I’ve ever tasted. I made a mental note of the location—we’d definitely be back.
Back at the hostel, two Indian girls were unboxing sweets they had ordered from a famous shop in Jodhpur. Inside were gulab jamuns, warm and syrupy. They shared them with us, and it was the perfect sweet treat to end a beautiful day.
Sometimes, life doesn’t need to be planned to be beautiful. Sometimes, it’s enough to trust the unfolding.
