New Delhi, India
A break in Brussels was great. I made friends with a Sikh family from Brampton and a young Toronto woman on her way to Vrindavan for a yoga retreat with the Sivananda group.
Back on board to Delhi I retained the same seat as before. So did the little three year old behind me. She and her mom appeared again. The little youngster had learned the hard way not to strike the swami but the warning did not deter her from being inventive. This time she would grab a hold of the back of my seat, shake and rattle it fiercely. The Sivananda woman sitting behind the girl also got the same treatment. Mom woke up and caught her little one red-handed engaged in her shenanigans. Mom really let her have it this time. She raised her voice so that hell could hear. Other passengers looked our way including the family with the twins on their laps. They rolled their eyes with the expression “Isn’t it weird?”
I see it as part of an adventure. As I have told, especially foot travelers giving me company, “There’s always an adventure. It’s God throwing things in front of you. He’s checking the response and giving you something to talk about at the end of the day or the end of the journey. He’s asking ‘Did you weather it? Did you take it as a challenge? Was it with pain that you journeyed? If so why did you allow it to be?’”
When we all disembarked at the Delhi airport I saw the young 3 year old tease-playing with the male flight attendant. She was ‘in fun’ and I hold no grudges against the little one for the former terrorism.
“Wasn’t baby Krishna a little like that?” I thought.
1 Km (inside the Brussels Airport).