Janu and I share a bed on our overnight train to Goa. Can't sleep till almost midnight, our jet lag and excitement keeping us playing in the dark. Goa slides into view the next morning, a green snake of welcome after Mumbai's smut. Smiles in relief. I hadn't known what I was missing, but this was it.
Fecund growth, lushness. 'You only have to spit on the ground for something to grow' - a line from a novel I read about Sri Lanka comes back to me.
On the train a man taught us to make a helicopter fan out of strips of paper. Everyone stops to pinch Janu's cheeks (not gentley either!). He tells his name a thousand times, and that he's 3.
(It's adrian who loves taking pictures of janu sleeping!)
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