So, this is it. I'm about to head out for one of my last adventure in India, for now at least. A couple of nights ago Sonora, our professor, said to all of us, "You don't know it yet, but you'll be back here." Sonora, I'm going to take your word for it. I will be back. You don't even know.

I spent my last day walking along the water of the Gateway of India, strolled down Colaba, walked more along Marine Drive, and had cheese na'an.

As people with huge balloons that look like bats came up to me trying to convince me to buy some I couldn't help but think that I'm going to miss how it would rouse me up enough to get my point across, that I didn't want one. Or how I probably did get cheated buying last minute gifts for friends. Or I'm going to miss the crazy taxi rides that now only occasionally keeps me at the edge of my seat. Or I'm going to miss the glaze of sweat that magically appears as soon as I step outside. Or I'm going to miss the buzz of the city and the kind eyes matched with tired faces, faces that are etched with lines of sad stories but livened spirits.

In so many possible ways, my health has been endangered by reckless or naive adventures but I wouldn't trade those adventures for the world. I'm sure there is more to come in my life and I'm excited for each and every one of them.

Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts
Love wasn't invented in India, but it was perfected here.