Going Native

I'm going native. As in I think I'm turning into an Indian. I'm beginning to think in Tamil. "Nan Poyittu Vareanga". There is no word in Tamil for 'good-bye'. Did you know that? SURE you did. Essentially, I just told you that I was going away, but I'll be back soon because you mean so much to me. How's that for just charming as heck?

American made clothing is uncomfortable and hot. I don't want to wear any American clothes anymore. I love the four-hour Bollywood Movies and I actually think it's charming that I can figure out the movie plot within about five minutes, yet I sit through the entire 4-hour movie just happy as a . . . . . .rock. How do you think I'm going to live without rice? I want a Rick SHAW, not a Honda Pilot. I miss abusing and insulting the Indian men. They miss abusing and insulting me.

I miss the simple things of life - like surviving crossing the street to live yet another day. I miss the dogs, the cows, the chickens, the goats, and especially I miss the feeling of being so alive - and that condition could change in an instant. Every day brings a crisis, a problem, a conundrum, a frustration, and a joyful anticipation. Every night is a dreamless, exhausted, sleep. And I awaken with the sure knowledge that somehow, somewhere, someone, and something will be better off because I lived that day.

So, forget it. America, I'm on my way out. Vanhakkam. Aedhavadhu nalla angila padam oduhiradha.

I write this for the benefit of my grandchildren, all too young to read or to even care. Perhaps one day they will remember there is no such word in Tamil for good-bye. Poyittu Vareanga.