There is one thing, and one thing only, that would bring the light back into my eyes, that would cause this world to become enchanting and lovely once more: traveling. I look at photos of myself on my trips, wondering who that shiny-eyed girl was, a girl with passion, fortitude, wits mixed with nonchalance… the heroine of her own tale, the creator of her own destiny. My Nepal! (Mero Nepal!) My Turkey! (Benim Türkiyem!) My heart bleeds for the exaltation of the Himalayas and their breathtaking presence. My heart swells to the memory of Istanbul’s Bosphorus, lined by palaces and mosques, it’s curving alleys leading to Eastern markets and haunted dungeons. I dream of the madness of shopkeepers chasing me through Thamel, the taste of chai in the morning delivered by sari wearing elders in sweet morning voices that wake me with “Chiya bahini! Chiya!” The strict order in the world of air travel, it’s hours of waiting, it’s lines, it’s signs with pointing arrows.
The promise of a new discovery tomorrow. The sun rising over a jungle river, or setting to the call of prayer. White hot springs to splash in and misty forests to walk in. Lands unseen yet… glaciers breaking away from a continent of ice, northern lights in an astonished, frozen sky… the murmur of voices outside in a language I don’t yet understand…
My baby loss doesn’t exist in these worlds. These words are mine, and mine alone. They exist outside of this place, they are fantasies come to life, the sweetness of my life, the reasons for my breath.
I want to GO. I want to more than ever. But I have no money for that. I must abide here in my cages a little longer, and wait.
Mother of All Things 