Rediscovering India

“The longest journey is the journey inward.” —Swedish diplomat Dag Hammarskjöld

This summer, I embarked on a journey through India and discovered the truth in this quote. My visits to India in the past have been a flurry of extravagant weddings, chaotic shopping trips, endless visits to distant relatives and culinary over-indulgence, all while attempting to stay out of the suffocating heat. This time, I wanted something different. I wanted to experience the real India that rushes by me in a blur through the window of an air-conditioned car; the romantic India that I devour in novels, the resolute India that fought for independence from colonial rule, the dramatic India that I witness in movies and the humble India about which my mother reminisces.

Aparna and Divya with children from their host families in the Ahmedabad slum

With this burning desire to explore the India that I have seen but never experienced first-hand, I planned a five-week journey to immerse myself in India’s intense and juxtaposed reality. Through a lens of self-exploration, I delved into issues including rural-urban migration, poverty, education, tribal struggles, environment, farming, sustainability and development.

In Ahmedabad, Gujarat, I discovered that those who we dismiss as “poor” have names, faces and beautiful spirits. I learned this from picking through trash with Kankuben, an older woman who makes her living as a ragpicker, to salvage anything that could fetch a value; from walking into rich people’s houses with Champaben, a single mother of two young girls, to clean their floors and from cuddling up at night to swap bedtime stories with Poonam, a beautiful girl who lives in the biggest slum in Gujarat. My blurred view quickly came into focus as I incorporated these people into the family that constitutes my real India.

At the Adharshila Learning Center in Madhya Pradesh, an innovative school for adivasi (indigenous or tribal) children, I learned about the challenges and merits of an alternative education system that places emphasis on retaining tribal language, culture and customs. In Amit and Jayshree Bhatnagar, who founded the school with the purpose of educating Adivasi children about issues facing their community, I found the resolute spirit that motivates not only them but also the students, teachers and volunteers who fight for social justice each day.

At the Brahma Vidhya Mandir, a self-sufficient women’s ashram in Maharasthra, I basked in the presence of the women who have lived there, some for over 50 years, under a vow of celibacy. Even waking up at 4 a.m. for morning prayer did not dampen my desire to experience ashram life, and I departed in awe of their spirit, devotion and sacrifice. I wanted so badly to praise them for what they were doing, but they would not accept or even acknowledge it. It was in these women that I witnessed humility in its purest form.

Amit Bhatnagar teaches students at Adharshila Learning
Center in Madhya Pradesh

InSPIRE participants along the banks of the Yamuna River just outside Delhi

In Delhi, I observed transformation in all forms. I walked through the streets as evening turned to night and watched the city unfold into a maze of sleeping bodies perched dangerously on the median and lining the sidewalks. I followed the Yamuna River from the outskirts of Delhi into the city and watched it turn into a river of black sludge from the sewage, pollution and chemical run-off. I visited a new mall in the burgeoning suburb of Gurgaon to stroll through the concrete, steel and glass structure to which we refer as a sign of “development,” and I wondered how this was more developed than the naturally air-conditioned mud huts with floors made of cow dung. It was in Delhi where I witnessed the dramatic transformations that take place within one single city.

In Kakrana, Madhya Pradesh, I hiked to the top of a hill to watch the sun rise over the once flowing Narmada River. A recent expansion of the Narmada Dam Project turned this part of the river into a stagnant reservoir and will eventually submerge the villagers who have lived on this land for centuries. We took a boat ride down the river to visit an Adivasi family who will not only lose their ancestral land, their home and their livelihood but also aspects of their language, culture and local knowledge. Everything in their house came from the farm, forest or river — from the land on which they lived. From the rope that suspends the water pot and is weaved together to make cots to the bamboo that is hollowed out to make flutes and construct a shelter for their cattle – they know from where everything they use comes. I feel ashamed that I barely know from where anything in my house comes — not the shingles on my roof or the carpet on my floor.

Ankur plays the flute during a sunrise over the once flowing Narmada River

InSPIRE participants get creative

In each place I visited, I found myself questioning the concept of “development” and our desire to shift “underdeveloped” nations to the same trajectory we are on now. I came away with the realization that I do not want to be a walking advertisement for the type of wasteful and exploitative life I lead at home, the type of life that is considered by most of the world to be one of opportunity, progress and prosperity. I am grateful for the life I have been able to lead, but I do not want to be the model of development. Not yet. I have been inspired to make small changes in my life because even at the risk of sounding idealistic, I still believe that change really does begin with me. From reducing my plastic consumption, buying local produce, harvesting kitchen water and composting organic waste, there are endless possibilities and I look forward to implementing them in my life.

Aparna Kothary lives in the Washington D.C. Area and recently returned from India where she was traveling with the InSPIRE (India Summer Program Inspiring Reflective Exploration) program. Visit www.summerinindia.org for more information about InSPIRE. Aparna can be reached at aparnakothary@gmail.com.