In the north of India there is a mellow haze. People move slower, it takes longer to get your beer, the tuk tuks still move fast but life is… although hectic on its face, just more relaxed as a whole. Everything huge seems to matter less. The sun sets slower. Your next destination isn’t important and even though as an American your brain wants to tell you to move fast, wants you to accomplish your next goal, something seems to seep up from the red Indian clay beneath your feet that tells you the opposite, to step pleasurably, a little slower, to know the earth, not necessarily to examine and scrutinize it but to just… be.
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