As I limped along attempting to make my way up the mountain just in time to catch the sun set over Hampi, her little hand clutched on to mine.
She looked up at me and smiled. Without a word she pulled me along, and I followed to the beat of her jingling anklets. Through every nook and peak, she waited patiently as I slowly twisted and swivelled my injured limbs around.
One hand on her pot of chai, one hand in mine. One eye ahead, one eye behind.
This one is for you.
The sweet little nine year old who stopped on her way up the mountains in Hampi — where she sells garam masala chai everyday to support her family — to help me, a complete stranger, find the strength to go on.
To Rashmi, who stole my heart while Hopping in Hampi.
(sneak peaks from a soon to come food blog – TBC)
ONCE UPON A TIME an unmarried 20 something year old girl ventured off to Jaipur for a weekend of literary bliss with some girlfriends. After spending three days sipping too many sweet masala chai’s and being entrenched in controversial discussions by the likes of Pico Iyer, Shabana and so on, the girl trailed off on her own to go Riding through Romantic Rajasthan for 10 days solo….