Page scanned from a 300 year old book



Vedhshala founder outside the observatory with his son playing in the background.



Reconstruction of one of the two library areas is already underway.

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Shrine to the late founder of Vedhshala


A mourning period indicating the imminent end of our trip has officially commenced.  Not only am I not ready to leave the people and this excitement of travel, I am not ready to embrace ‘life as normal’ upon my return. Being here has allowed optimism to take seed; Suraj and I have been living in the realm of possibility.  Unhindered by the requirements of the daily grind, pipe dreams feel tangible, less wispy than the smoky haze they’re born of.  T...
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The mountains rise up purple-blue, as the sun casts a lavender glow over the landscape.  Smoky, muted colors reflect a reprieve from the glaring heat - an exhausted but welcome haze – even the sun has gotten lazy, worn out from the day’s work.  I can hear the sounds of a people awakening from afternoon naps, eager to get back to the business of domesticity.

Despite the chill morning air, by noon the temperature is relentless.  Between sunrise and midday, it doubles until reaching its peak...
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I am now back in the company of Suraj’s family, turning down offers for second and third helpings of daal, roti, subzi, and all matter of delectable Indian sweets. It feels good to hand my daily needs back over to the care of others, but I miss the independence of being in Delhi.

I loved wandering through its neighborhoods and savoring one of the most precious and difficult to come by American commodities – time.  Here, I have little else but time, which I can choose to fill by practicing...
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