Towards the end of the program, many of our ACM students have reached the peak of their emotional frustrations about the mishaps they had during both their intellectual pursuits and leisurely travels. And my roommate told me that he would leave India with mixed feelings. There isn’t any doubt that this has been a rewarding experience for them, but I sense that their (or, rather, our) feelings, especially about life in urban India, are as complex as the heterogeneous Indian society itself.
I have to say, however, that I have learned to love India to the extent that I feel like I could survive here happily, and this is something that is surprisingly rare among the American students I have been studying with for the past semester.
Against all odds, I ‘d say that there is something to love in the middle of the unbelievably lethal traffic, among the surly police officers, in-between the piles of stinking trash, and in the heart of pesky beggar kids. Life is hard for those squashed in this swarm of humanity, and yet, life here is tenaciously beautiful.
I could live here and be happy. I’m glad I can say that.
