India hubbub

We left our hostel at a quarter to 7. Waiting in the madness that is Indian traffic, we grew anxious to reach the station, as our train was due to leave at 7. Stressed and sweaty we ran into the station.Finally reaching the monitor, we were informed our train was delayed 7 hours. having our adrenaline depleted, we sat restless in the nearly vacant train station. For what felt like an eternity we waited, Our souls slowly being sucked from our bodies, as the boredom overtook us. I leaned my zombified body against the railing in search of any sleep. Alas, I found none. in a sudden burst of noise, my soul leapt back into my uninhabited body, as a homeless man yelled to one of my travel partners. A bundle of peacock feathers in hand he spoke in Hindi, asking for what we assumed to be money. Flicking our wrists we signaled him to move along, as we had none. Growing in persistence and noise he began to swat at us with his feathers. 

    For 5 minutes the man persisted to swat, jab, and yell at us. Tired, annoyed, and patience running thin, I was ready to "drop" this guy. In a split second the man lunged his bundle at Jadan’s face, poking her in the eyes. “ow!” she screamed, as he caused her some pain. Nearly “loosing me cool” a group of friendly Indiansshove the man away, yelling at him to stop bothering us. I was so relieved, how could this man be so horrible? As we waited, my fatigue and anger began to simultaneously rise. Finally the train arrived, and we were on our way to our next destination. I had found the sleep I was so desperate to find. Refreshed I awoke with a sense of guilt on my conscience. I mulled over the terrible thoughts that took control of my mind, about the man from the previous night. I was so ready to beat the hell out of him. I had so quickly become accustomed to the immense poverty in this land I forgot to put myself in his shoes. Day after day he lives with less than nothing, seeing “rich” westerners with their nice cloths and cameras marvel at his land while only barely surviving in some of the worst conditions in the world.  After years of living in such conditions, its no wonder how one could snap. This is the heartbreak of the “accident of latitude” He, and most living in poverty, did not ask for the life they were given, they did not make bad decisions putting them in their circumstances, they were simply born into a “lower caste.” Visiting India was a humbling experience, and reminded me how fortunate I am to have been born into a society where I can pursue my dreams, and make the best of my life… Namaste.