First Stop New Delhi. (India Travel Blog)

Firstly let me introduce myself, I'm Miranda and Kismattu has been created from the places I've been and the experiences I've had. I'm 30 years old and arrived in India when I was 26, the first 3 month was a monumental moment in my life, right before 2020. My Son was born in Kerala 2021 and we now back in the U.K. This will be a monthly blog giving you a background and insight to my life.

Let me take you back to 2019, pre Covid, A time where I was young, free and adventurous. I had the calling, one day something inside me screamed to get on a flight and get to India, like a life force of it's own I had little control over this journey. Looking back on the past 4 years it would be impossible to argue fate, destiny, God.

I landed in New Delhi and it started going wrong from the get go, as it does for the girl who has no clue where she is going or why she is here. Having to rely on the airport staff, never do it, it's a scam, I ended up being ripped off for the taxi and the hotel. I sat on the bed and seriously questioned my life choices. I remember the next day going for a walk down the street and never having seen anything like it, the dust, the smell, the looks on peoples face's, a look I would grow used too, a look that asks what in the world I am doing here. I didn't know but I knew I was there for something.

(First Picture taken in India)

Back at the hotel I quickly decided there was no way in this world I was leaving alone, I soon found a Facebook friend who was arriving in the next couple days so I stayed in that room until then. She finally arrived and I was on my way back to the airport to pick her up, she soon had that same realization of, what have I done.

There was no turning back now we were in the Uber to Agra, Taj Mahal was our first stop, from there we would continue on our journey separately, one would go North, the other South. I had decided Shimla, the foothills of the Himalaya's. So being naïve I got a government bus a good 12 hours North, oblivious to the treacherous roads and Indian style driving. To this day I'm still not sure what the locals were thinking, somewhere between crazy and brave, the horror written over their faces. However in true Indian style everyone helped and assisted me with the never ending 21 questions I made it. It was here I saw the sign for Manali. A place forever in my soul, awaiting the day for my return.

(They call me crazy, baby!)

The thing with India it's just overly intense, it's a sensory overload so its very easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of it all. The ever changing smells from street to street It's even easier to overlook the red flags and to trust the wrong people. Everyone seems so friendly and genuine and some are the kindest and friendliest people you will ever meet, but mostly it's just a front. Scammers and cheaters lurking in plain sight waiting for the opportunity to pull the wool over your eyes and leave you with nothing but the clothes on your back and that's if your lucky. The ever changing two faces of the culture, temple in the morning, cheating for dinner. The beauty of India masks the darkness of a society riddle with generational trauma with no end in sight. I pray for the kids being used to beg, I pray for the children in the factories and slums, the heartache of it all is the trap that lures you in. Empathy with it's ridged double edges.