Maybe a childhood home, maybe a café where you have had a lot of difficult conversations or a work place you never want to go back to. What is strange is when the heaviness comes from a place you have never been before.
I have never been to Nepal before. I have seen pictures of the Himalayan ranges and then some of the city in the news during 2015. But as I walked the streets, along with the smells and sounds was a wisp of sadness. Something I couldn’t put my finger on but I could feel in the crack of every broken building, every electric pole with mangled wires and every pothole along the way.
It makes me sound like I am from some developed country where none of these exist. But that is not true. Where I come from, the cracks in the buildings somehow feel like they ooze anger, the mangled wires shock enough to tell that they are live and the potholes, well…they are filled with the curses of those who drive over them.
Maybe it is me who brought that wisp of sadness. Asking questions on why it feels calm when there should be rage. Is what we see contentment or resignation to fate? Was that laughter or was that a sigh? If there are enough prayer flags and wheels does it bring peace? Is it peace or is it apathy? Does seeing grief in someone’s tired eyes, remind me of happiness within reach back home? Shouldn’t there be guilt if someone else’s arduous life makes me feel more than a twinge of gratitude for my own? Why am I constantly scanning faces for some extreme reaction? Am I seeking validation for screams ringing in my ears?
Sometimes just being in a place wipes you out. But most of the times, being in my head does the trick.