I traveled halfway around the world to visit the Taj Mahal and all I got was this lousy head cold.
So I woke up the second morning in India feeling sniffly. On the train ride to Agra I began to feel a bit more sniffly and my throat was scratchy. By the time we were actually at the Taj Mahal, I had a full blown head cold – fever, burning eyeballs, head exploding sinus pain…the whole shebang. Which colors my impressions of the experience a bit but it is still one heck of a building. And so my style – ginormously overblown pure white marble monument to love and loss. I really wish I’d thought of that.
At the train station on the way home, I think I had my first spiritual moment in India. I was so weak and ill I could barely move and my mind seriously started to pretend like it didn’t even know my body. Insert smart sounding comments about nature of consciousness here.
But I survived the trip back to Stef’s house, albeit curled up in a ball moaning about the air-conditioning, where he treated me with a glass of orange juice and a clove of raw garlic in olive oil, and Mary gave me Tylenol nighttime cold pills. How great are they? Stef also confined himself to one teensy comment about how odd it was, since no gets head colds this time of year.
Let’s see…then Mary and I flew from Delhi to Cochin with a layover in Mumbai, and the two descents made me finally realize why babies sometimes scream bloody murder on landing. A stuffed nose plus atmospheric changes equals stabbing knives in ears. Who would’ve known? But that combined with a turbulent flight and general exhaustion led to what Mary later categorized as an “illness crisis.” But more about that later…
ps: I have photos of me blowing my nose in front of the Taj Mahal that I’d like to share with you but I can’t get my card reader to work in this computer. Sorry. Maybe another time.
Tags: Delhi
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