To India With Love

It must have been a sight to behold. It is not everyday you see a white faced red headed woman zipping by on a moped, at least not in Tenali. The next morning was a Sunday. We had a very nice service and all our friends were there to spend a little time with me. I missed my family and husband and was glad to be going home, but there was a sense of sadness in my heart about leaving them. I did not know for sure if I would ever see them again. The train was leaving at 12:30pm. By noon it was at least 95 degrees and the train was not air conditioned. The train was so crowded I felt like we were jammed in cattle cars, with about the same comforts. We sat on wooden benches for six grueling hours. The only thing that made it bearable was the company and the ever fleeting beautiful scenery. Mountains in the distance and flowers and foliage were just breathtaking, it would inspire just about anyone.

The train station in Hyderabad was a nightmare. You had to go up three levels of stairs to get to the main exit. Poor Jolly was carrying my heaviest suitcase, Jaya had the other and I had my guitar and carry on luggage. I can still see Jolly going up those stairs balancing the huge suitcase on his head, and still managing to smile, he was actually glad to do it. I was feeling sorry for him having to carry that heavy suitcase up those stairs in that heat and yet he looked as happy as one could be. I call him Jolly because that was always his countenance, no matter what. Truly a servants heart.