India
A Beautiful Stain
by Avni Shah
The first expensive purse I purchased was a Marc by Marc Jacobs cream-colored satchel… Read more >>

by Sharon MorrisGripping the steering wheel with one hand, our driver blasted his horn at the bus heading straight for us on the narrow, winding road. While I held my breath, the other bus swerved to the inside, passing so close I could admire the nose ring on an Indian woman staring out the window… Read more >>

by Colleen FinnIn late spring of 2009, I visited India for the first time, eager to explore a country that I had dreamed of visiting for years. When I arrived, it was with all the arrogance of a seasoned traveler… Read more >>

by Sharon L. MorrisLurching up the hill toward Jaipur’s Amber Fort on a brightly painted elephant, I saw my grandchildren grinning back at me from the elephant just ahead. Relaxing my grip on the flimsy wooden platform, I remembered how often we’d enjoyed reading books about Babar the elephant. At that moment, spending August in steamy India didn’t seem like such a crazy idea after all… Read more >>

by Dianne Sharma-WinterWe get into their jeep and take a free ride to the police station. On the way we pass a body lying beside the road, a dead pilgrim from the night… Read more >>

by Satu Susanna RommiAn old, thin and surprisingly strong Italian lady is shouting at a voluptuous Indian woman who is, apparently, trying to queue-jump… Read more >>

by Satu Susanna Rommi“We might die,”, says my boyfriend. “But if we don’t, it’s going to be a great experience.” Ladakh, “the land of high passes,” is India’s sparsely populated northernmost part, surrounded by some of the highest mountains in the world… Read more >>

by Vicki Flier HudsonMy life began in earnest the day I accidentally started a riot in a railway station in Calcutta, India. Sure the prior twenty-three years had their highlights, but I wouldn’t have my own business, or the passion for India that I do had it not been for that little skirmish… Read more >>

by Beth WhitmanI hear the incessant pounding of a drum as we walk around the corner towards our guesthouse. A man steps in front of me, his face is elaborately painted with colored powders. His mouth is wide open. A knife pierces his cheek… Read more >>

by Drake Lucas“You happy?” my driver Satheesh asked with his usual energetic smile. I had met my driver at the Bangalore Airport in India and this had been, and would continue to be, our typical daily conversation… Read more >>

by Shelley SealeIn Mumbai, I flit in and out of the two Indias. One is on the streets, right up front – the beggars, the pavement dwellers, the slums, the street children, the tiny laborers who pick through the litter for recyclables when they should be laughing on a playground. It’s noisy, in your face, assaulting you… Read more >>

by Connie Stambush“Tell the taxi-wallah to cross the Yumana River using Matura Bridge, not any other bridge. After crossing, tell him….” Sujata’s rhythmic right, left, right instructions left me dizzy… Read more >>

by Shelley SealeLurching along the dirt road, I gazed out the window at rural Orissa in northeastern India as the car bounced over potholes, sending plumes of red dust billowing behind it… Read more >>